I lived here for two years. I believe it was 1999–2000, or it could’ve been 1968. The town isn’t anti-progress in dumb ways; it’s just against dumb or needless progress. That’s why you’ll see many streets willfully without sidewalks, and a lack of giant, ugly planned communities along Pacific Coast Highway. Trailer homes, albeit elaborately designed like an HGTV special, are perfectly acceptable beachside living spaces.

Peace Pies is tucked in a tiny storefront off Pacific Coast Highway. Their original location is, actually, in OB. There’s enough room in the dirt next to the fence for two cars. The rest of you will have to find street parking. From the outside it looks like a charming shanty. A place where, inside, highly ethical people talk about single-use plastics, grids, and how to live off of them.

But that patio is something special. Real secret-garden stuff, with high, seclusionary wooden fences making a sort of alfresco hippie getaway, a trellis of ivy and lights and umbrellas forming a canopy above diners. Succulents are everywhere because flowers need water, and this place doesn’t dabble in the waste of precious resources. I could live here. Or set up a mud bath in the corner and stay for a couple days. At most places, that would scare people off, but here I imagine people would join me.

The Contender: Peace Pies

We’re here for their “Bliss Burger.” Peace Pies is raw vegan food. That means uncooked. The burger arrives looking like a salad between crackers. It looks beautiful, vibrant, popping with the colors of highly nutritional, organic vegetables and seeds. For that same reason, it also looks awful. Instead of a bun, there are two thin, flat , grayish crackers made of flax seeds and sunflower seeds. Sprouts stick out this way and that, and in the middle is a patty made of sun-dried tomatoes and walnuts.

I don’t want to bite this thing. I have flashbacks of the post-hippie ’80s, when neighborhood moms thought they could cook meatless and they were terribly wrong. They’d force us to eat a cuisine best suited for finches and waifish dogs.

The “Bliss Burger” instantaneously proves me wrong. It is delicious. The patty tastes of traditional meat spices, and it holds together, topped with a slice of yellow cashew cheese. The flax-sunflower bun actually works perfectly with the ingredients, and holds together as well. There’s a delicious side of cashew ranch. Being uncooked and having birdseed instead of a big, glorious bun, it’s a pretty far stretch from what most people think of as “a burger.”

But it is a veggie burger nonetheless. And, even as still-devout carnivores, we find it to be one of the best we’ve tasted on our citywide search for the best. If I lived in the area, I would camp on their patio and read Whole Earth or talk to strangers about Ken Kesey, and what he’s doing now. They’d respond, “Ken’s dead.” And I’d say, “but is he, really?”

Peace Pies, 133 Daphne Street, Leucadia; 4230 Voltaire Street, Ocean Beach

The Contender: Peace Pies

The Contender: Peace Pies

The post The Contender: Peace Pies appeared first on San Diego Magazine.

It raises the question that someone like Lukasiewicz would likely ask: With truly great food, is that intense desire you feel an impulse to eat what’s in front of you—or, you know…?

Greg is an artist. He’s intense. “Manic,” he clarifies, in a productive way. If he gets an idea, he’s physically unable to ignore it until it manifests in real life. His Bull Taco truck—a post-apocalyptic militia machine that likely smells of chorizo and smoke from Lukasiewicz’s brain—was such an idea.

So was Bull Taco itself.

Eighteen years ago, Lukasiewicz learned to be creative with food before he could cook it well. At his Monrovia restaurant Devon, he was messing with foams and foie gras ice cream and blue cheese foams right along with El Bulli. Then every chef got a centrifuge and a sous vide machine for Christmas, so he ditched that and started foraging for his own food.

He dislikes when ideas become trends. That’s usually his cue to move on.

At his first Bull Taco—a glorified Little League snack stand attached to the ranger station at San Elijo surf campgrounds—he served foie gras tacos. His dining chairs were those white, plastic one-piece deals, the leotard of the patio furniture industry. It had all the ambiance of a no-star joint where you’d expect the finest defrosted hot dogs and 94 ounces of soda that makes your fat cells copulate.

This was 2009, long before the trend of food trucks or eating meals in small, inglorious places of dubious sanitation. Yelp ate it up. The line of people looked like they were selling something more illicit.

I’m here to check out the new Bull Taco Leucadia with David Boylan, who hosts food radio show “Lick the Plate.” Two polite teenage girls work behind the counter. Their hair is akimbo and they, too, wear t-shirts. They’re young and cute enough to pull off this fashion statement. If aged 30 or above, their intentional mussiness might be mistaken for emotional distress or a large herd of unwashed cats waiting for them at home. Skateboarders would love to date them. Pro skater Bucky Lasek is a partner in Bull Taco Leucadia.

“Pickled watermelon radish with ghost pepper sea salt,” he says, handing us raw, round slices of the vegetable, which looks like a watermelon on acid. It’s nice, simple, with a signature Bull Taco extreme twist—one of the world’s hottest chile peppers infused into the little cubic zarconian salt crystals.

Lukasiewicz tells us a theory about Apocalypse Now, which he’s seen 50 times. “Those bodies hanging in that scene? Real bodies,” he says. “I know a guy who knows this.”

He tells the story of how he once hired a Japanese noise artist—a musician who literally plays interminable noise that molests human ears—to fly over from Japan to play at an Orange County nightclub he owned. The noise artist proceeded to give a 30-second assault—physically abusive to everyone in the room—and then run out of the club. His encore was to return and shove concertgoers until they chased him into the basement, where he threw furniture at them.

Lukasiewicz has stories.

“Beef tongue with truffle oil,” he says, dropping four brown beef tongues on a paper plate, topped with salsa verde. They’re nice, if a little under-salted. I don’t hate truffle oil like some snobs do. I also think granulated cheese is better on elbow macaroni than béchamel and gruyere, which may suggest a deeper fault line in my culinary pedigree.

Three men in their late-20s hang near the end of the bar in hoodies and trucker hats. They’ve obviously just surfed. Their facial hair has been given full permission to discover its own destiny. When did looking like a 1970s drifter become such a crucial way to live?

“Chicken hearts,” says Lukasiewicz, dropping what appear to be six unwrapped and glistening Cadbury eggs. Alone on a paper plate, the chicken hearts look nearly fecal. Presentation here is of the yeah-whatever-it-tastes-good variety. Dinnerware just adds dollars to this whole exchange, which neither Lukasiewicz nor his customers want.

The chicken hearts are chewy, with that damp-chalk texture every cooked animal organ has. I realize that sounds like a pretty awful texture for a mouth to experience, but I like it. It feels like the time you experimented with eating Play-Doh. Only the chicken hearts are absolutely delicious, while Play-Doh tasted like carpet lint and dirty kid hands.

“Any booze?” I ask.

“We’re going to get beer in two months. I messed up on the license,” he says with a shrug.

Ouch. In the restaurant industry, food is like the irresponsible roommate who never pays his fair share of the rent. Booze is the good-natured enabler that covers food’s ass.

“Gonna have a wall of craft beers over there you can pour yourself,” he says. He’s pointing to the one-half of the impossibly long, thin restaurant (like a diner without pie or meth teeth). The wallpaper is a room-sized photograph of a lush, green moss jungle—jarringly interrupted by a stark, red door. It’s a beautiful contrast, and reminds me how the jungle in the TV show Lost always had the stupidest, modern crap in it.

“Chicken feet tacos,” he says as a paper plate drops.

“Duck liver tacos,” he says as another flops. These tacos are so good I want to lay with them.

Next comes a whole fried catfish, eyeballs and all. If it seems like Lukasiewicz is a white guy running a Japanese yakitori masquerading as a taco shop, that’s not entirely off base.

“You used to have to search out the cutting edge,” he says. “Now with the internet, any cook can see what they’re doing across the world. Which makes it hard for anyone to be more cutting edge than anyone else.”

This all seems like an art project rather than a business. That’s what his wife is for, Lukasiewicz says. She listens to his manic idea flow, measures the real cost versus the opportunity cost, and chooses whether she should encourage or thwart him.

But Bull Taco now has four locations—San Elijo, Oceanside, San Clemente and now Leucadia. They just signed a lease for a fourth above Prepkitchen in Del Mar, and are scouting a few other spots. They have a farm in south San Diego where they’re experimenting with the world’s hottest chile peppers.

That means Lukasiewicz’s creativity works. Today it looks like surf rat taco-yakitori. Tomorrow, it’ll look different.

HELLO, THERE: Bull Taco Leucadia

Sam Wells

The post HELLO, THERE: Bull Taco Leucadia appeared first on San Diego Magazine.

It raises the question that someone like Lukasiewicz would likely ask: With truly great food, is that intense desire you feel an impulse to eat what’s in front of you—or, you know…?

Greg is an artist. He’s intense. “Manic,” he clarifies, in a productive way. If he gets an idea, he’s physically unable to ignore it until it manifests in real life. His Bull Taco truck—a post-apocalyptic militia machine that likely smells of chorizo and smoke from Lukasiewicz’s brain—was such an idea.

So was Bull Taco itself.

Eighteen years ago, Lukasiewicz learned to be creative with food before he could cook it well. At his Monrovia restaurant Devon, he was messing with foams and foie gras ice cream and blue cheese foams right along with El Bulli. Then every chef got a centrifuge and a sous vide machine for Christmas, so he ditched that and started foraging for his own food.

He dislikes when ideas become trends. That’s usually his cue to move on.

At his first Bull Taco—a glorified Little League snack stand attached to the ranger station at San Elijo surf campgrounds—he served foie gras tacos. His dining chairs were those white, plastic one-piece deals, the leotard of the patio furniture industry. It had all the ambiance of a no-star joint where you’d expect the finest defrosted hot dogs and 94 ounces of soda that makes your fat cells copulate.

This was 2009, long before the trend of food trucks or eating meals in small, inglorious places of dubious sanitation. Yelp ate it up. The line of people looked like they were selling something more illicit.

I’m here to check out the new Bull Taco Leucadia with David Boylan, who hosts food radio show “Lick the Plate.” Two polite teenage girls work behind the counter. Their hair is akimbo and they, too, wear t-shirts. They’re young and cute enough to pull off this fashion statement. If aged 30 or above, their intentional mussiness might be mistaken for emotional distress or a large herd of unwashed cats waiting for them at home. Skateboarders would love to date them. Pro skater Bucky Lasek is a partner in Bull Taco Leucadia.

“Pickled watermelon radish with ghost pepper sea salt,” he says, handing us raw, round slices of the vegetable, which looks like a watermelon on acid. It’s nice, simple, with a signature Bull Taco extreme twist—one of the world’s hottest chile peppers infused into the little cubic zarconian salt crystals.

Lukasiewicz tells us a theory about Apocalypse Now, which he’s seen 50 times. “Those bodies hanging in that scene? Real bodies,” he says. “I know a guy who knows this.”

He tells the story of how he once hired a Japanese noise artist—a musician who literally plays interminable noise that molests human ears—to fly over from Japan to play at an Orange County nightclub he owned. The noise artist proceeded to give a 30-second assault—physically abusive to everyone in the room—and then run out of the club. His encore was to return and shove concertgoers until they chased him into the basement, where he threw furniture at them.

Lukasiewicz has stories.

“Beef tongue with truffle oil,” he says, dropping four brown beef tongues on a paper plate, topped with salsa verde. They’re nice, if a little under-salted. I don’t hate truffle oil like some snobs do. I also think granulated cheese is better on elbow macaroni than béchamel and gruyere, which may suggest a deeper fault line in my culinary pedigree.

Three men in their late-20s hang near the end of the bar in hoodies and trucker hats. They’ve obviously just surfed. Their facial hair has been given full permission to discover its own destiny. When did looking like a 1970s drifter become such a crucial way to live?

“Chicken hearts,” says Lukasiewicz, dropping what appear to be six unwrapped and glistening Cadbury eggs. Alone on a paper plate, the chicken hearts look nearly fecal. Presentation here is of the yeah-whatever-it-tastes-good variety. Dinnerware just adds dollars to this whole exchange, which neither Lukasiewicz nor his customers want.

The chicken hearts are chewy, with that damp-chalk texture every cooked animal organ has. I realize that sounds like a pretty awful texture for a mouth to experience, but I like it. It feels like the time you experimented with eating Play-Doh. Only the chicken hearts are absolutely delicious, while Play-Doh tasted like carpet lint and dirty kid hands.

“Any booze?” I ask.

“We’re going to get beer in two months. I messed up on the license,” he says with a shrug.

Ouch. In the restaurant industry, food is like the irresponsible roommate who never pays his fair share of the rent. Booze is the good-natured enabler that covers food’s ass.

“Gonna have a wall of craft beers over there you can pour yourself,” he says. He’s pointing to the one-half of the impossibly long, thin restaurant (like a diner without pie or meth teeth). The wallpaper is a room-sized photograph of a lush, green moss jungle—jarringly interrupted by a stark, red door. It’s a beautiful contrast, and reminds me how the jungle in the TV show Lost always had the stupidest, modern crap in it.

“Chicken feet tacos,” he says as a paper plate drops.

“Duck liver tacos,” he says as another flops. These tacos are so good I want to lay with them.

Next comes a whole fried catfish, eyeballs and all. If it seems like Lukasiewicz is a white guy running a Japanese yakitori masquerading as a taco shop, that’s not entirely off base.

“You used to have to search out the cutting edge,” he says. “Now with the internet, any cook can see what they’re doing across the world. Which makes it hard for anyone to be more cutting edge than anyone else.”

This all seems like an art project rather than a business. That’s what his wife is for, Lukasiewicz says. She listens to his manic idea flow, measures the real cost versus the opportunity cost, and chooses whether she should encourage or thwart him.

But Bull Taco now has four locations—San Elijo, Oceanside, San Clemente and now Leucadia. They just signed a lease for a fourth above Prepkitchen in Del Mar, and are scouting a few other spots. They have a farm in south San Diego where they’re experimenting with the world’s hottest chile peppers.

That means Lukasiewicz’s creativity works. Today it looks like surf rat taco-yakitori. Tomorrow, it’ll look different.

HELLO, THERE: Bull Taco Leucadia

Sam Wells

The post HELLO, THERE: Bull Taco Leucadia appeared first on San Diego Magazine.

Bull Taco

Bull Taco is back. San Diego’s surf-punk taco shop—where culinary school-style tacos meet paper plates and zero pretension—is ready to unveil their newest location on 101 N. Coast Hwy in Leucadia (the former Jamroc 101 spot, next to Encinitas Surfboards). We’ve got the first photos below.

And, breaking news: Yesterday, they signed a deal to move into the unit above Prepkitchen in Del Mar.

Bull Taco’s a bit of a local icon, so why are they “back”? Because, noticed or not, they haven’t been doing hyper-creative tacos for quite some time. In 2009, Greg Lukasiewicz and his brother started Bull in the tiny snack bar at the San Elijo Campgrounds. With some plastic chairs on a patio overlooking the surf, they cranked out foie gras tacos, lobster tacos, uni and curry tacos. They tinkered with ghost pepper, then the hottest chili pepper in the world. Before they knew it, the line for their tiny taco stand was 20-deep. To meet the demand, they had to cut back on the creativity.

“When we got into the volume game, it got too hard to control,” says Lukasiewicz. “Now we’re definitely going back to the exotic stuff. Now the locations can handle it.”

Exotic and experimental is Lukasiewicz’ game. He opened his first restaurant—the French bistro Devon, in Monrovia—in 1996 (he’s owned 11 altogether). His approach was to hire top sous chefs, including one from Thomas Keller, and get creative. They tinkered with molecular gastronomy and foraged for their own produce long before it was a thing. After 17 years, Lukasiewicz plans to turn Devon into a Bull Taco later this year.

Sounds like Bull is set for rapid expansion. For each new location, Lucasiewicz wil partner with a top surfer or skater (surfers Jay Adams and Nathan Fletcher are partners at the Oceanside and San Clemente locations, respectively). At Encinitas, it’s pro skater Bucky Lasek. There’ll be tiles made from recycled skateboards, a wall of self-serve craft beer, ostrich tacos, and top-notch sashimi similar to their popular Oceanside joint, Wrench & Rodent.

“Like Wrench & Rodent, but on a much smaller scale,” he says. “On that long counter, there’ll be a person doing ceviche. Maybe throwing a French or Italian accent—ahi with truffle vinaigrette. A buerre blanc. White wine reductions. One grilled lambchop on a plate. I don’t want to say tapas, but we’ll have steamed mussels and clams, maybe just a single bite of grilled lobster.”

Diners will even be encouraged to cook at the restaurant, a sort of coup de Bull. The group also now has their own farm in Bonsall where they’re growing the Trinidad Scorpion—the hottest chili pepper in the world. At their Oceanside location, they’ve built a garden in the back (one of the few food gardens in San Diego with a skate ramp in it) with some of the hottest, rarest chile peppers in the world.

So, yeah, Bull Taco is back.

“I was going to call the Leucadia location Bull Tacobertos,” jokes Lukasiewicz. “I like change. I like experimentation. Maybe we’ll do a super high-end menu one day or just invite high-end chefs to take over our kitchen for specials once a week.”

Without further ado, the FIRST LOOK at Bull Taco Encinitas. Opens hopefully in the next week (permits permitting):

The post FIRST LOOK: Bull Taco Leucadia appeared first on San Diego Magazine.

Bull Taco

Bull Taco is back. San Diego’s surf-punk taco shop—where culinary school-style tacos meet paper plates and zero pretension—is ready to unveil their newest location on 101 N. Coast Hwy in Leucadia (the former Jamroc 101 spot, next to Encinitas Surfboards). We’ve got the first photos below.

And, breaking news: Yesterday, they signed a deal to move into the unit above Prepkitchen in Del Mar.

Bull Taco’s a bit of a local icon, so why are they “back”? Because, noticed or not, they haven’t been doing hyper-creative tacos for quite some time. In 2009, Greg Lukasiewicz and his brother started Bull in the tiny snack bar at the San Elijo Campgrounds. With some plastic chairs on a patio overlooking the surf, they cranked out foie gras tacos, lobster tacos, uni and curry tacos. They tinkered with ghost pepper, then the hottest chili pepper in the world. Before they knew it, the line for their tiny taco stand was 20-deep. To meet the demand, they had to cut back on the creativity.

“When we got into the volume game, it got too hard to control,” says Lukasiewicz. “Now we’re definitely going back to the exotic stuff. Now the locations can handle it.”

Exotic and experimental is Lukasiewicz’ game. He opened his first restaurant—the French bistro Devon, in Monrovia—in 1996 (he’s owned 11 altogether). His approach was to hire top sous chefs, including one from Thomas Keller, and get creative. They tinkered with molecular gastronomy and foraged for their own produce long before it was a thing. After 17 years, Lukasiewicz plans to turn Devon into a Bull Taco later this year.

Sounds like Bull is set for rapid expansion. For each new location, Lucasiewicz wil partner with a top surfer or skater (surfers Jay Adams and Nathan Fletcher are partners at the Oceanside and San Clemente locations, respectively). At Encinitas, it’s pro skater Bucky Lasek. There’ll be tiles made from recycled skateboards, a wall of self-serve craft beer, ostrich tacos, and top-notch sashimi similar to their popular Oceanside joint, Wrench & Rodent.

“Like Wrench & Rodent, but on a much smaller scale,” he says. “On that long counter, there’ll be a person doing ceviche. Maybe throwing a French or Italian accent—ahi with truffle vinaigrette. A buerre blanc. White wine reductions. One grilled lambchop on a plate. I don’t want to say tapas, but we’ll have steamed mussels and clams, maybe just a single bite of grilled lobster.”

Diners will even be encouraged to cook at the restaurant, a sort of coup de Bull. The group also now has their own farm in Bonsall where they’re growing the Trinidad Scorpion—the hottest chili pepper in the world. At their Oceanside location, they’ve built a garden in the back (one of the few food gardens in San Diego with a skate ramp in it) with some of the hottest, rarest chile peppers in the world.

So, yeah, Bull Taco is back.

“I was going to call the Leucadia location Bull Tacobertos,” jokes Lukasiewicz. “I like change. I like experimentation. Maybe we’ll do a super high-end menu one day or just invite high-end chefs to take over our kitchen for specials once a week.”

Without further ado, the FIRST LOOK at Bull Taco Encinitas. Opens hopefully in the next week (permits permitting):

The post FIRST LOOK: Bull Taco Leucadia appeared first on San Diego Magazine.

GOSPEL ACCORDING TO LEUC: Leucadia’s little food renaissance is on. The last couple years has seen Fish 101, Solterra Winery + Kitchen and Regal Seagull move into one of the last funky beach communities in SD. The new project from Vigilucci’s group—Robby’s—is reportedly coming along beautifully, but slow. Now Leucadia is getting Bull Taco—the proudly “inauthentic Mexican” joint made famous because a couple surf punks served creative tacos (lobster chorizo, shrimp curry, even foie gras back when it was legal) out a window overlooking the beach. The new location is going into the former Jamroc (101 N. Coast Hwy 101). There’ve also been rumors that Bull Taco would take over Woody’s in Solana Beach (near CPK, formerly fine dining joint Blanca). But a BT rep says “no, not yet.”

SAN DIEGO MEANS BEER IN GERMAN: Craft beer bottle shops are the new wine bar. Bottlecraft in Little Italy and North Park has obviously done a great job. Now Solana Beach is getting one with San Diego BeerWorks—also going into the Beachwalk Retail Center in the former space of Cupcake Love.

NICE PLACE NEEDS CHEFS: Rancho Santa Fe’s top property Rancho Valencia has lost both exec chef Eric Bauer and sous chef James Noonan. We knew Noonan was leaving to be top toque for Urban Plates, but weren’t sure about Bauer’s new gig. Now Eater’s reporting Bauer has joined catering company H Events, which handles the annual Diner En Blanc. Look for Rancho Valencia to make a big new hire to helm its signature restaurant, Veladora. That $1M Damien Hirst art almost demands it.

TOTALLY UNCONFIRMED RUMORS: By no means are the following cemented nor confirmed, but… A source has told us that the long-shuttered On Broadway has a new owner. Our source also told us that the new club will be called YOLO—the internet acronym for You Only Live Once. Just kind of lets the soul leak out of ya, doesn’t it? Pray harder…. Oggi’s Pizza is reportedly working on opening a bunch of new locations around SD, concentrating the first efforts near SDSU… Pirch—the high-end kitchen showroom that hosts a slew of top-notch culinary events—is expected by expecters to open a few more spots around the city soon…. Three big renovations planned for iconic SD spots: The Catamaran Resort (Pacific Beach), The Horton Grand Hotel (Downtown) and Baleen (at Paradise Point in Mission Bay, home to talented chef Amy DiBiase)….  Keep your eye on the great and mighty Pannikin coffee shop in Del Mar’s Flower Hill Promenade. We have reason to believe there may be some big changes coming to that space as FHP continues its overhaul… We’re also hearing that PB Fish Shop has just signed on for a second location in Encinitas, and are planning a few more…

Three Dots and a Hunger: Jan. 31

The post Three Dots and a Hunger: Jan. 31 appeared first on San Diego Magazine.

GOSPEL ACCORDING TO LEUC: Leucadia’s little food renaissance is on. The last couple years has seen Fish 101, Solterra Winery + Kitchen and Regal Seagull move into one of the last funky beach communities in SD. The new project from Vigilucci’s group—Robby’s—is reportedly coming along beautifully, but slow. Now Leucadia is getting Bull Taco—the proudly “inauthentic Mexican” joint made famous because a couple surf punks served creative tacos (lobster chorizo, shrimp curry, even foie gras back when it was legal) out a window overlooking the beach. The new location is going into the former Jamroc (101 N. Coast Hwy 101). There’ve also been rumors that Bull Taco would take over Woody’s in Solana Beach (near CPK, formerly fine dining joint Blanca). But a BT rep says “no, not yet.”

SAN DIEGO MEANS BEER IN GERMAN: Craft beer bottle shops are the new wine bar. Bottlecraft in Little Italy and North Park has obviously done a great job. Now Solana Beach is getting one with San Diego BeerWorks—also going into the Beachwalk Retail Center in the former space of Cupcake Love.

NICE PLACE NEEDS CHEFS: Rancho Santa Fe’s top property Rancho Valencia has lost both exec chef Eric Bauer and sous chef James Noonan. We knew Noonan was leaving to be top toque for Urban Plates, but weren’t sure about Bauer’s new gig. Now Eater’s reporting Bauer has joined catering company H Events, which handles the annual Diner En Blanc. Look for Rancho Valencia to make a big new hire to helm its signature restaurant, Veladora. That $1M Damien Hirst art almost demands it.

TOTALLY UNCONFIRMED RUMORS: By no means are the following cemented nor confirmed, but… A source has told us that the long-shuttered On Broadway has a new owner. Our source also told us that the new club will be called YOLO—the internet acronym for You Only Live Once. Just kind of lets the soul leak out of ya, doesn’t it? Pray harder…. Oggi’s Pizza is reportedly working on opening a bunch of new locations around SD, concentrating the first efforts near SDSU… Pirch—the high-end kitchen showroom that hosts a slew of top-notch culinary events—is expected by expecters to open a few more spots around the city soon…. Three big renovations planned for iconic SD spots: The Catamaran Resort (Pacific Beach), The Horton Grand Hotel (Downtown) and Baleen (at Paradise Point in Mission Bay, home to talented chef Amy DiBiase)….  Keep your eye on the great and mighty Pannikin coffee shop in Del Mar’s Flower Hill Promenade. We have reason to believe there may be some big changes coming to that space as FHP continues its overhaul… We’re also hearing that PB Fish Shop has just signed on for a second location in Encinitas, and are planning a few more…

Three Dots and a Hunger: Jan. 31

The post Three Dots and a Hunger: Jan. 31 appeared first on San Diego Magazine.

Priority Public House

Priority Public House

encinitas

Priority Seating

The red Calypso cottage has been revamped into the handsome green Priority Public House, a 66-seat gastropub by proprietor Brian McBride. A colorful chalkboard menu reveals what’s spilling from its taps—22 craft beers and two white wines from the barrel. Order up a fetching Salt of the Earth with smoky mescal, cynar, lime, and pineapple, and a burly center-cut pork chop with chipotle citrus barbecue sauce. 576 North Coast Highway 101

The Regal Seagull

The Regal Seagull

leucadia

The Seagull Flies North

The Regal Seagull, the coastal version of Mission Hills’ Regal Beagle, is Leucadia’s latest dudefest. After you choose your local fave from 20 rotating beer taps and one of nine artisan links served up on Sadie Rose buttermilk rolls, your order is zip lined into the kitchen. Patrons are given a 1980s character name (think Mr. T, Greg Brady, Marty McFly) for pickup, which is announced over the loudspeaker. Twenty-five cent mini-corn dog Mondays, Wingsday Wednesdays, and Trivia Night add to the party. 996 North Coast Highway 101

carlsbad

Scotch and a Smoke

Cigar aficionados can light up at the Park Hyatt Aviara Masters of Food and Wine event for an evening of steak, smoke, and scotch. After a little Glenfiddich or Macallan with hors d’oeuvres, chef Kurtis Habecker presents four courses, with Brandt all-natural rib eye served two ways as the focal point. Guests then retire to the terrace for a scotch and cigar pairing hosted by spirit manager Levi Walker of San Diego’s Young’s Market Company and cigar expert David Haddad of Fumar Cigars. September 20–22. Argyle Steakhouse, 7447 Batiquitos Drive

Del Mar

Tequila at the Plaza

The Prager Brothers

The Prager Brothers

Old Town’s El Agave is transporting its old-world traditions and to a new zip code this fall with an outpost in Del Mar. Tequila Agave Artesenal will fill the space once occupied by Flavor in Del Mar Plaza. The upscale (read: expensive) Mexican eatery will also host a 2,000-bottle tequila museum with a tasting room for tequila flights and appraising in-house. 1555 Camino Del Mar

carlsbad

On Brothers and Bread

The Prager Bros., baker Louie and musician Clinton, who used to fire up their bread in the back of Blue Ribbon Artisan Pizzeria, have opened their own retail space—Pragers Brothers Artisan Bread in C-bad. The duo is also planning a CSA-style bread program. Find them at weekly Encinitas, Vista, Carlsbad, and Rancho Santa Fe famers markets. Carlsbad Gateway Center, 5671 Palmer Way

The post North County Food News appeared first on San Diego Magazine.