The Controversy: Death for Food

Some San Diego meat eaters were going to kill animals for food. A vegan activist lawyer staged an international campaign to stop them. That’s how Death for Food became one of the most controversial food events the city has seen in years. It made national news, and resulted in this cover story in San Diego CityBeat.

I’m highly biased in this debate. Months ago, I agreed to collaborate with Death for Food creator Jaime Fritsch because I believe in the educational philosophy driving his project. You can read why here, and read my initial reaction to Pease’s campaign here.

Basically, Death for Food invites omnivores to humanely kill their own dinner. Not for alpha-species thrill or Ted Nugent-esque blood sport. The idea is to reconnect meat-eaters to the life behind their meat, and let the emotions of that process guide their food decisions from that point on. It’s a movement against how meat is currently produced in America: anonymously and industrially.

Vegan activist Bryan Pease started an international Change.org campaign to stop the event, set to be held at one of the city’s most progressive and ethical food compounds, Suzie’s Farm. Without contacting the farm or organizers to see what the event was truly about, Pease made his best guess and portrayed the event very negatively, including the term “torture animals.” The hate mail and hate phone calls flooded into the farm and Death for Food creator, Jaime Fritsch. It caused financial harm to both. Since the protest, Fritsch has been accused of some pretty vile things. Animal abuse. Damaging children (a father brought his son to participate). Profiteering off animal slaughter. Insanity.

What’s been missing in the press coverage of the event is in-depth insight from Fritsch himself. The basic questions: Why invite people to a farm to kill their own dinner? Is that a progressive way to educate omnivores and promote responsible meat consumption? Or is it just sick in the head?

Here is Fritsch speaking about Death for Food, in his own words:

Why are you doing this?

I really don’t like answering this question. When you tell people what your purpose is, you pre-ordain their experience. It defeats the entire concept of Death for Food. Which is—by immersing yourself in the process, you fully experience it and integrate it, instead of having a preacher at a pulpit telling you how to feel. Now I feel I have no choice. My hope for the participants is that they integrate the process of meat back into their lives. That includes knowing about the life the animal lived, smelling the fresh air and the sunshine it gets, knowing it was a living, breathing, sentient being—and then understanding the magnitude of killing it. In my experience, afterward many people will slow down a lot, even just how they physically eat meat. They’ll chew it more, taste it more, think about where it comes from. By doing that, they’ll actually assimilate the food and nutrients more efficiently.

Sounds like some hippy dippy bullshit.

That’s science. When you think about food and concentrate on what you’re eating, you start to salivate and activate your digestive system. And what happens if you’re assimilating your food more efficiently? You need less. I’m not saying people should eat less meat. I do believe that—but I don’t preach that. After experiencing Death for Food, they tend to eat less meat. But not because I or anyone else told them to. Because they experienced killing first hand and felt the magnitude of it. Integration.

Can’t I just intellectualize it? Is it necessary to kill the animal myself?

I feel direct experience is the only way to experience that magnitude. It’s contagious, too—taking that brave step of looking at things and experiencing things in a real way. This is about self-trust. I’m going to jump in and I’m going to figure it out myself. We live in a world where things like the food pyramid tells us what to eat and what not to eat. Religion tells us that humans are innately greedy and bad and sinful and that we can’t be trusted. Science tells us that our bodies are not amazing and regenerative, but unreliable and in need of medicine and technology to regulate and improve them. A big part of what I’m saying is—you can be trusted. If you’re like me and feel a need to eat animals, you can trust yourself to eat them. You don’t need some professional to endorse your decision.

What made you start doing this?

For years I ate only humanely raised, very high quality meat—the best I could possibly find. But it would still come just wrapped up cold. And I started wondering if chicken was ever actually a chicken. If pork was actually ever a pig. I realized there’s a big disconnect between the life of the animal and the meat in the grocery store. One of the most shocking things about Death for Food is when you kill something and you remove the fur or the feathers. It starts to look like meat again. But there’s one key difference. It’s warm. The body temperature is warm. I needed that.

Why is that so important?

All meat we touch in a typical American kitchen is cold. When you touch it as you’re eviscerating just after killing it though, it’s warm. There’s still energy—actual caloric heat energy. It just had a heart that was pumping blood. It’s a shattering moment. It looks like meat, but it feels like life. It’s this in-between state. That’s when you associate meat with the live sentient being that it was.

Does the experience end there? Are there repercussions?

I think people come to Death for Food for an initial experience to get them started. We provide participants with resources for procuring locally raised, whole animals and help them meet local farmers and ranchers doing good things. We’re also starting a meat collective in San Diego where people can continue to take classes on slaughter, butchery, charcuterie, etc. It’s not a one-time “Get your Death for Food shot, and you’re good for life!” It’s a highly rewarding path to continue along after the event—to reconnect with the process of your food. On a very basic level, what participants have said about the way they think about and eat meat afterward: More thought, more responsibility, less meat.

Did you expect a protest like the one from Bryan Pease?

No. When I was in Portland, I had significant dialogue with hardcore animal rights activists—guys who have broken into places to set animals free, set fires to places doing animal research. And they were down with Death for Food. They said, ‘If you’re going to eat animals, please take a look. Please be honest with yourselves.’ I actually thought that was what we were going to get. I thought we’d get some heat from people who didn’t understand it, but I could talk to them and explain it.

Did it make you angry? Sad? Vengeful? 

I see Death For Food as a question, not an answer. The Change.org campaign denied people the means to ask that question. I was shocked, because while I know it wasn’t a perfect scenario for animal rights activists—they’d prefer we just don’t kill animals for food at all—my experience has been that it’s a step in the right direction for them. Even though Bryan Pease fundamentally disagrees with what I’m doing on the basic level of killing animals for food, I think he knows I’m not the real enemy. Hopefully someday he will launch a campaign against factory farming and I’ll have his back in that fight. I respect his position that animals have unique personalities and feelings and we should not kill them. I’m not asking him to pat me on the back or anything. Our feelings on fighting animal cruelty overlap in many places but, like he has said, you have to draw a line somewhere. He does, and I respect that.

What sort of people are objecting to the event?

Objections are coming from hardline animal rights activists who believe humans shouldn’t kill animals for food, period. Honestly, I can respect where they’re coming from because I’ve entertained that sentiment myself and still wrestle with it sometimes. One guy told me he signed the petition because he felt like it should be held at a ranch, not a vegetable farm. And you know what? In retrospect, he was right. Suzie’s was not the right venue for Death For Food. From what I can gather, hardline animal rights activists also take the stance that “humane ranching” advocates like myself are even worse than industrialized ranchers because we raise these animals with the same care as pets and then betray their trust when we eat them.

Is this worse?

You really have to ask me that?

Yes.

I don’t think anything could be worse than a factory farm system. It’s hell on earth. The fact remains, though, that I want meat and I want it on what seems like an almost cellular level. I understand the desire to not hurt animals. That’s how this entire project began. For me, the abstinence solution just didn’t work. Treating animals well during their lives—and giving them a quick, as-painless-as-possible death—does work.

What about the more extreme objections to Death For Food? That meat eating is a fundamentally bad thing—both environmentally and health-wise?

Those arguments are based off the factory meat system, with good reason. Death For Food that promotes local, holistic farms that mimic nature and utilize plants and animals to restore functioning, food producing ecosystems. That’s dangerous for vegan activists because it undermines the core arguments of vegan activism. We advocate a deeper connection with food in order to find a resonant system of eating for yourself. Daeth for Food usually results in people eating far less meat, and far healthier meat. We require humane treatment of animals in life and in death both within the project and beyond, when we use our dollar power to purchase ethically produced food. By eating a more reasonable amount of meat and taking part in the process ourselves by sourcing whole animals from local farms, we make healthy meat affordable to all.

And you think activists are threatened by this?

I hope not, because logistically I think a network of local, omnivorous food systems is the only thing that’s going to feed Earth’s population without completely destroying its ecology. I don’t want to hinder any implementation of that by further inflaming the current vegan vs. omnivore fight. This planet evolved over four billion years around local, omnivorous food systems. That’s just what works for us, environmentally speaking. But removing factory farms from the discussion seems to dismantle every pragmatic argument for a wholesale, global conversion to veganism. I can see how that alone could be a catalyst for a whole new round of arguments. The bummer of it all for me is that I’m 95-percent vegetarian. Ironically, it’s this tiny bit of meat I’m fighting about eating.

It didn’t seem like there was a “tiny bit of meat” set to be served at Death for Food. It seemed like a feast.

Right. It was a family-style meal with many different types of local and seasonal produce, fish and meat. But the idea was you could eat as little or as much as you wanted as an exercise in learning to be your own barometer with what you need in your diet. I tried not to talk about that too much because, again, I didn’t want people to come in feeling like they had to take a half a bite of everything and pretend like they were being “good, responsible omnivores.”

Some vegans have argued that no sane person would willingly kill an animal.

With Death for Food, sane citizens experienced responsible animal slaughter and reported that it was challenging but worthwhile. Most of them also decided to continue eating meat, but do so with more responsible parameters. Is that the action of an insane person? Or are certain parts of life merely challenging, and Death for Food attendees are people willing to face that challenge head on.

You say animals are humanely killed at Death for Food. How so?

We use a process where we blood-let very close to the jawline and position the animal so that the first blood that comes is from their brain. We use a razor sharp knife. They lose consciousness in two to six seconds. I’d compare it to when you’re cut with a scalpel and you don’t even know until you see the blood. When done by a professional, the animal doesn’t even realize what happened.

How do you know that’s the best way, for, say, the lamb that you were going to kill at Suzie’s?

That’s advice from holistic ranchers. The other way is to shoot the lamb in the head. But they have such small brains you can easily miss, causing needless pain to the animal. You also destroy the head, which is a lot of food. Stun guns are also controversial. It mostly works, but it can also just hurt the animal and not render them unconscious. I’ve seen the killing process at holistic, small farms and ranches from Washington to Mexico—and the most ideal method I’ve seen is a professional wielding a sharp knife and going for the bloodline close to the brain.

But you’re having regular people kill their own dinner. Not professionals.

We have a very good support staff with a lot of experience. I’m there with you. That’s to keep you and the bird from injuring yourselves. That said, there is potential for it going wrong. I can’t insulate people from that. Life is messy. Even the best, most humane ranchers I’ve ever met will admit it’s not always a perfect process and that occasionally a humane kill goes badly. In America we’ve taken this sort of hyper-sterile, ultra-safety path to everything. I actually see that as part of a larger problem—the refusal to engage with anything dangerous. The process at Death for Food is not only dangerous for the animal—it’s dangerous for the participants. One of those turkeys could easily break your nose with its wing. It could take an eye out with a claw. Death for Food is a larger idea of going headfirst into life and embracing the challenging parts along with the good parts. Typically when we say ‘embrace life,’ we mean hug your neighbor. Well, part of embracing life is embracing the challenging parts, too. Like holding your loved ones’ hands as they die. Not as they ‘pass on.’ As they die. Or spending time with the terminally ill. Whatever you want to do. Embracing life fully means embracing death. Conversely, denying death means denying life.

People have complained about the cost. They’ve said it’s astronomical and accuse you of profiteering.

The max possible sales for the event was $12,900. There were only going to be 75 attendees. And there were only a handful of higher-cost tickets–$200-$300, where people were able to take the morning class to kill their own chickens and turkeys, and take them home for Thanksgiving. Let’s break it down with our projected costs: venue fee ($1,000); food service staff ($2,000); tables/chairs/linens/wares ($2,200); food ($2,500); beverages ($2,500); harvest chickens ($500); harvest turkeys ($1,000); decor ($200); cooking equipment ($750); kitchen staff ($480); lighting ($250); A/V and sound ($200); harvest station construction ($2,000); photo exhibition ($1,000); wood for fires ($150); contributor flight/hotel ($500); menu printing ($200). That’s $17,230 and we hadn’t even yet budgeted security because I wasn’t thinking we’d need it until things got crazy. It’s also worth noting none of the chefs, speakers, or my event coordinator were receiving a cent. They were all doing this for free.

So you would’ve lost over $4,000.

I don’t think so. People support this project. Donations come in, vendors politely refuse payment or give me a big discount to show support. I bet in the end I would have at least come close to breaking even. I guess I just trust life like that.

If this is about education and not profit, couldn’t you silence critics by becoming a nonprofit?

It doesn’t matter to me if Death for Food is labeled a nonprofit. It’s a negative profit. It hemorrhages money.

There were accusations that you weren’t using USDA-approved meat, and that’s partly why the event was canceled because that would be illegal.

My top priority is using the most humane, best meat possible. I wouldn’t put on an illegal event. If there were questions of the legality, I would have properly addressed them.

Have you heard from people who attended the first event and how it affected them?

Dozens. People tell me it changed their lives.

The Controversy: Death for Food

by Jaime Fritsch

Around the world, people prize wine from hyper-specific regions. We know that grinding whole coffee beans results in a richer cup than using preground beans. So why do so many of us rely on preground spices to flavor our food?

Dharti Jadav wants us to change that perception of spices, using her own childhood memories from growing up in Ahmedabad, a city in western India in the state of Gujarat. She’s lived in the United States for 20 years, but never had to settle for substandard, stale spices from an old spice rack in a random grocery store. Her mother, who visited every year, would always bring along as many spices from India as she would need until the next year.

That changed with the pandemic. “I’m used to a certain freshness level in the spice,” she explains. When the world went into lockdown, she resigned herself to shopping at a large grocer to refill her shelves. 

It didn’t go well. 

The cumin tasted like cardboard—nothing like the piquant, aromatic herb her grandfather grew in India. “It literally felt like somebody was taking away my memories,” she says. She couldn’t let that happen. So she decided to launch Koshna to present spices in a way that actually showcases their depth. 

Sharing a variety of fresh spices for people to fully experience their vibrancy is one thing. But Jadav’s business plan ensures all Koshna products are also sourced individually from small-scale farmers in India, who harvest and deliver the same year to ensure full potency. For comparison, mass-market spice brands can take two years or more to hit shelves, and every day in storage diminishes its vitality and flavor. 

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Plus, most spices aren’t just one flavor from one place, she explains. “There are varieties of specific turmeric that have their own nuances and grow in a specific region,” she says. But if you look at 99.9 percent of turmeric bottles on mass market shelves, the label will just say “turmeric.” We don’t simplify wines into just “white” or “red.” So why don’t spices, the commodity that literally launched global trade routes we still use today, get the same specificity, in stores or in restaurants?

“All these restaurants, they’re all about farm-to-table,” says Jadav. The menu often says where the local lettuce was grown or where the fish was caught. “I have yet to find a restaurant that says ‘my spice comes from this farm.’” Most people don’t even know where black pepper originated from. (Hint: it’s also from India.) 

Jadav sells Koshna spices online, various farmers markets in San Diego, seasonal pop-up events, and small shops like Home Ec, Bica, and Fox Point Farms. Currently, her product line features spices like Lakadong turmeric (from Umnari in the Meghalaya region), Chambal coriander (named for the Chambal River flowing through the Khera Rudhda in Rajasthan), Aaji fennel (named for the Aaji River flowing through the Ramod in Gujarat), Resham Patto chilli (from Ramod, Gujarat), and of course, the spice that started it all—Banas cumin (named after the Banas River flowing through Dungala, Gujarat).

She knows it can feel intimidating to go from a shaker of flavor to having to grind your own. But it’s worth it, she promises. “Just play with it,” she laughs. “Cooking, it’s like the simplest thing. Nothing wrong can come out of it.”

San Diego Restaurant News & Food Events

Beth’s Bites

• Bocktoberfest is coming! German-inspired South Park beer bar Bock is hosting a three-weekend shindig with different “tents” each weekend. Things kick off with Paulaner, followed by Seek Beer and Enegren Brewing, and culminating with Hacker-Pschorr. Come thirsty, ready to hold a stein for longer than you would think (!), and hungry for classic Bavarian bratwurst. 
• I’m biased in that I believe every season is cider season, but fall is when the juice really starts to flow. In San Diego, Newtopia Cyder is gearing up for the season and beyond, recently inking a distribution deal that will bring their ciders to nine states in the east and southeast, with more on the way. Part of their expanded lineup includes the flagship Venom Imperial Cyder, a collaboration with Wu-Tang Clan’s U-God, with rollout that coincides with the upcoming Wu-Tang tour. San Diego cider ain’t nuthing ta f’ wit. 
• U-God isn’t the only celeb tapping into San Diego food and drink. NBA superstar LeBron James just joined Mike’s Red Tacos as an investor, helping the Southern California birria brand keep up its rapid nationwide expansion. King James and birria? Now that’s a slam dunk.

Listen Now: The Latest in San Diego’s Food and Drink Scene

Have breaking news, exciting scoops, or great stories about new San Diego restaurants or the city’s food scene? Send your pitches to [email protected].

At Del Mar Wine & Food Festival’s Grand Tasting, everyone has their own goals for the day. One friend wants oysters and Champagne. Another heard there’s line dancing. Someone disappeared into Taco Alley. The food person is making a beeline for every chef demo, the golf friend has found the simulator, and someone else is already settled into a beach chair with a mezcal cocktail and has announced they’re “never leaving.”

Consider yourself zoned in.

This year, the Grand Tasting turns the Del Mar Polo Fields into a full-blown foodie wonderland, with chef showdowns, wellness escapes, art installations, lawn games, music, and plenty of magazine-worthy plates. But the zones are where everyone gets to play their own way. You might sip your way through the SLO Zone, accidentally spend the afternoon behind the DJ booth in Plant Paradise, or live out your best beach day in The Beach Zone.

With 100-plus chefs and restaurants, 150-plus wineries, breweries, distilleries, and drink makers, plus a whole lot more happening in between, there’s no shortage of ways to spend the weekend. And with the Grand Tasting taking place October 3 and 4, there’s actually time to explore.

Because the problem with bringing your favorite people to an adult playground is that everyone wants to play differently. Luckily, you get two days to figure it out. Here’s where to start:

The Beef Experience

The Beef Experience, presented by Brandt Beef – One World Beef, is for the people who believe a food festival is a perfectly reasonable excuse to build an entire afternoon around meat. Brandt Beef brings its signature fare to the Polo Fields alongside a seriously stacked lineup of local favorites, from Tanner’s Prime Burgers and Ranch 45 to Jimmy’s Famous American Tavern, Order Fire Barbecue, Flying Pig Pub & Kitchen, The Pit BBQ, Aloha Rib Shack, and more.

And then there’s the tent you might almost miss.

Tucked into Brandt Beef Alley, Bebemos Tequila has set up what looks, from the outside, like a fairly unassuming tent. Walk inside, though, and you’ll find a full little speakeasy lounge, complete with a bar and one very dramatic tequila trick. The team lights the shots right in front of you before pouring them straight into guests’ mouths. Candlelight, fire, tequila, barbecue. Suddenly, your casual afternoon tasting has taken a turn.

Grab a plate of Brandt Beef tallow fries, chase it with a pour from Bebemos Tequila or Tap Truck San Diego, and maybe browse Nortte Hats while you recover. The rules are simple: follow the smoke, trust the grill, and maybe don’t make dinner plans afterward.

The Beach Zone

For the friend who thinks every good afternoon should involve a little sunshine, a cold drink, and nowhere to be, there’s The Beach Zone. Presented by Reef Lifestyle, this laid-back corner brings the San Diego summer fantasy to the Polo Fields, complete with coastal bites, beach-inspired brands, and plenty of reasons to stay awhile.

Grab bites from Duke’s La Jolla, Jake’s Del Mar, Lofty Coffee Co., Dang Brother Pizza Co., and Coral Del Mar, then cool off with Summer Club, Volley, Surfside Iced Tea and Lemonade + Vodka, Tito’s Handmade Vodka, Mezo Mezoritas, Roseade Wine Spritzer, Pinkys, and more. Hemlock Hat Co., Coola, Sambazon, Playavole, Shibumi Shade, Spritz del Conte, and Out of the Woods add a little retail therapy to the mix, because the Grand Tasting obviously needs shopping, too.

And yes, there’s a photo op. Find the teal VW bus from A Timeless Day, gather your favorite people, and pretend you’ve spent the afternoon cruising the California coast instead of wandering around a wine and food festival.

It’s an area filled with surf-inspired games, your next favorite beach accessory, and a drink in hand. Basically, San Diego summer, condensed into one very convenient patch of grass.

Pride Zone

Neon boas, glitter-filled drinks, and enough food to make choosing a single dinner impossible. The Pride Zone presented by San Diego Pride is bringing the energy, gathering some of San Diego’s favorite restaurants, bars, breweries, and sweet spots in one very colorful corner of the Polo Fields. Expect bites and beverages from Cary Q Wines, Gossip Grill, Rootdown & Es Okay, T’Maro Brands, and more.

Plant Paradise

Plant Paradise is your green oasis, but don’t expect it to be particularly peaceful. DJ Tenax returns with house, techno, UKG, and the kind of set that can turn a quick stop into an hour on the open-air dance floor. As Green Air Botanicals sets the mood, grab a cocktail from Mission Craft Cocktails, Makku, or San Hagen Tequila, and a bite from the sprawling lineup of plant-based bites and snacks from some of San Diego’s vegan favorites.

Kindred, Nourish Eats, The Plot, Maya’s Cookies and more. There’s also a full lineup of brands to snack your way through, including Aficio 22, Bücha Hard Kombucha, Nichols Farms, Nuts For Cheese.

Not all monsters have to be scary. In fact, entrepreneur Pinyada “Ada” Primpray’s is delightful.  Sea Monster, a small cafe that will serve poke bowls, fresh spring rolls, and matcha, will open in Mission Valley by the end of the year. 

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“The concept is a Hawaiian- and Japanese-style cafe,” Primpray  explains. She calls it Sea Monster in homage to her friend’s popular restaurant Big Monster Sushi & Thai in Hawaii, but “the idea really started to take shape after I came back from a solo trip to Italy,” she says. The experience inspired her to start her own concept that mixed her culture, experience, and passion for food.

Sea Monster will be her first restaurant as an owner, but Primpray has worked in restaurants for 15 years in places like Kauai, Chicago, New York, and San Diego. She realized a similar health-conscious, seafood-forward, quick-service restaurant could work here, especially in that corner of Mission Valley where pizza and burgers reign. Plus, she points to the massive development plans for the area—between Riverwalk bringing thousands of new homes to the area and even more coming from San Diego State University, there are lots of new locals looming on the horizon.

She brought on Head Chef Wasu Gibb Palipote from Sushisamba in Los Angeles to develop the menu and signature sauces, like ink wasabi and a larb sauce. “Every couple of months, we plan to introduce a new signature sauce created exclusively for Sea Monster by [Chef Palipote],” she says. All the sauces will be homemade, including a basil creamy sauce and sesame vinegar.

Sea Monster’s menu centers around fresh poke bowls—mostly locally-caught bluefin tuna and hamachi as well as salmon, served California-style rather than Hawaiian-style (the sauces are added to order rather than marinating on the fish, which can overpower its flavor). Toppings will range from the usual, like edamame and green onion, to upscale, like uni (sea urchin). She’ll also serve fresh salad rolls, a popular light snack in Vietnam and her native Thailand, with vegetables and seafood like salmon, shrimp, and imitation crab. Everything will be served to-go, although there will be very limited seating for people who want to dive in right away. 

The matcha program will start small, with six iterations planned for opening and potentially more in the future. “I really want to have mango sticky rice,” she adds. Beyond adding items to the menu, Primpray says she hopes Sea Monster will be more than a restaurant. “I want it to grow into a lifestyle brand with its own little world,” she says, pointing to the restaurant’s mascot, Smoo. A monster with aspirations of growing bigger and bigger until it takes over? Yeah, sounds about right. 

Sea Monster will open daily for lunch and dinner in late 2026 at 6110 Friars Road in Mission Valley.

San Diego Restaurant News & Food Events

Beth’s Bites

• Oktoberfest season is closing in fast, and one of the first dirndl-laced events of the year kicks off at AleSmith Brewing Company this weekend. AleSchmidt Oktoberfest runs every Saturday from September 12 through 26, and the family-friendly event is chock-a-block with German food vendors, live oom-pah bands, stein holding, and a whole lot more. The free event starts at 11 a.m. each Saturday, and from personal experience, I recommend posting up on the early side to snag a seat.
• Japanese fine dining restaurant Shio soft opened in August, bringing elegant plates and sunset views to La Jolla. (The area was hardly hurting for either, but I think we could always use some more sushi in our lives.) Has anyone checked it out yet? Let me know what I should order by dropping me a line at [email protected].
• Restaurateur brothers Danny and Dante Romero have been on a tear the past few years, consulting at places like Una Mas and taking over The Lion’s Share last summer. It’s understandable to see they recently decided to pause their recurring pop-up concept Two Ducks to recalibrate and figure out its future in a permanent location, but it’s still a bit bittersweet. If it’s “see you later” and not “goodbye,” I can live with that (for now).

Listen Now: The Latest in San Diego’s Food and Drink Scene

Have breaking news, exciting scoops, or great stories about new San Diego restaurants or the city’s food scene? Send your pitches to [email protected].

“A sharp knife is a safe knife,” says Joshua “Jhun” de Andres, owner of Kuya Sharpens. It only takes a light touch to guide a properly-sharpened knife, while dull knives require much more force to cut through an object, increasing the likelihood and severity of an injury. “If you slip, that’s a lot of force that is now going into your finger, your hand, and that’s where it becomes extremely dangerous.” 

De Andres started sharpening knives as a meditative practice during a time of personal grief, a way to zone in on a task with a useful and satisfying outcome. “[It was a] reminder to myself that you can fix something that’s broken and give it purpose again.” Once he ran through his own collection of knives, he started asking friends and family if he could sharpen theirs. When he’d sharpened everyone’s knives he could think of, he started posting videos on TikTok, where his first professional chef customer found him: Chef Tanner Stanich, chef de cuisine at Michelin-recognized Bib Gourmand Mabel’s Gone Fishing.

“That’s when things really started to take off,” he laughs. He uses whetstones rather than motorized belt sanders to sharpen, which gives him the ability to make microadjustments during the process for a more customized and controlled result. Whetstones also preserve steel more efficiently than other mechanical processes, which are faster, but take off more of the knife’s edge in exchange, reducing the lifespan of the knife. 

Learning how to master whetstones takes a lot of time and practice, and while de Andres specializes in sharpening Japanese knives, he’ll sharpen a knife from anywhere. “Every knife deserves to be sharp,” he says. 

Japanese kitchen knives are designed for extremely specific purposes: there’s a knife to break down a fish (deba), cut through boneless raw fish for sushi and sashimi (yanagiba), slice vegetables (nakiri), carve meat (sujihiki), debone poultry (honesuki), and even knives only the executive chef can use (kiritsuke). Few other culinary cultures utilize such ultra-specialized tools, and Japanese steel is prized for its extreme hardness and ability to maintain a razor-thin edge for decades when properly cared for. 

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De Andres is still figuring out different ways to expand his business: hosting workshops at Home Ec on Adams Avenue, creating knife restoration tutorials, and launching private lessons, all while continuing to sharpen knives people bring to him or even send from across the country. And he knows that for both home cooks and professional chefs, sharpening a knife that may have cost hundreds of dollars on a whetstone can feel overwhelming. Will I ruin it? Will I break it?

“You’re most likely not going to break it,” he promises. “But you are going to make it yours, and you have to kind of be okay with that.” Knives age and change just like humans do. Sharpening is an essential part of maintenance, and shaving away the dull edges to restore a shine takes care. And de Andres cares a lot.

“It’s just been really life-giving to me,” he says. “I know it seems really silly that taking a knife and putting it on a whetstone can change your perspective on how you view the world, but for me, it came to me at a time when I needed it most.”

San Diego Restaurant News & Food Events

Beth’s Bites

• Mesa Agricola, a tiny taqueria in Escondido, made this year’s New York Times 50 best restaurants in the US list. If you’ve had the privilege of eating the guisado delicacies from chef Juan González and Megan Strom, you’ll understand why. Congrats on the recognition—and happy first birthday!
• Kids Free San Diego is about to kick off, and if you haven’t already taken a look at all the month-long deals on food, activities, and hotels, you have two more weeks to make a game plan. Between kids eating free at places like Crab Hut and the Waffle Spot, staycation deals at places like San Diego Mission Bay Resort, Belmont Park discounts, free fishing, whale watching, and more, I know that my dance card for the month is pretty much full. 
• Ranchito Milkyway, a farmstand in Bonita, also has plenty of events to pencil into your calendar, starting with an Indian cuisine-inspired farm-to-table dinner on September 19 with chef Kanta from Sattvik to an Italian cooking class on October 17 with chef Elisa from Balsamico Italian Kitchen. If you’re chock-full of things to do over the next few weeks, there’s always the option to snag one of their CSA boxes for an abundance of winter greens, vegetables, and herbs for home cooking.

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