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University Heights publican Karen Barnett voices her concerns
For many San Diegans, it’s a point of pride: Our county has more breweries per capita than any other county in America. It has also recently been listed in a national report by Cushman & Wakefield as the nation’s top market for the number of its operating craft breweries. It’s indisputable: The growth of the brewery industry in San Diego over the past five years has been nothing short of astounding.
Growth is great. It’s exciting. And it makes us feel like we’re all a part of something dynamic and cool. But fast-paced and far-reaching industry expansions can also create hardships for people within that industry, as well as for those on the outside. In many cases, the negative effects of growth are unforeseen and unintentional, but that doesn’t make them any less serious.
Karen Barnett, owner of Small Bar in University Heights (one of San Diego’s iconic craft beer hubs), has recently started to speak out about how she feels the proliferation of brewery tasting rooms is hurting her business. Although Karen is the person who has been the most vocal about the issue, she confirms that many of her fellow bar and restaurant owners are experiencing the same problems. And it’s no wonder. In just the past few years, nearly 30 satellite tasting rooms have popped up in San Diego — and that’s in addition to our 150+ breweries.
In an effort to spark a wider discussion about a phenomenon that’s affecting the beer community, I sat down with Karen so I could get a handle on what the key components of this issue are. I also wanted to find out what she sees as possible solutions.
The concerns I have are not necessarily with the idea of a satellite tasting room. The problem that I see is — because there’s an oversaturation of breweries in San Diego — they just can’t sell enough beer. And because they can’t sell enough beer, they’re exercising their right to open up satellite tasting rooms, but they’re opening them in places that are problematic.
Each brewery is allowed to have up to six tasting rooms — it comes with their (Type 23) license. Now, these tasting rooms are popping up in places where craft beer drinkers are already known to be living. And I think one of the reasons those people have chosen to live in those neighborhoods is so they can frequent establishments like mine. It’s because of what we’ve built. What Toronado has built. What Tiger! Tiger! and Hamilton’s have built. It’s because of what we’ve all built in our communities; we’ve helped to drive this boom of education about beer and showed people why you should be drinking one beer over another.
Yes. I kind of feel it’s a situation where the tasting rooms are capitalizing on the culture that we’ve helped to build — if we hadn’t sold their beer, for example, they wouldn’t have an industry to grow from.
Right. Or even consumers who just know to drink good beer. What it comes down to is that everyone is trying to get their slice of the pie, but I don’t think the pie is big enough to be shared in so many directions. If it were one tasting room, it wouldn’t be that big a deal. But when you’re talking four or five within two miles of a business like mine — and I’m watching my numbers go down as I drive by the tasting rooms and see them packed full — that’s frustrating. They have the ability to pour full pints. They can charge the same price that I do (or less). They can park a food truck out in front of their business or can put a pop-up in their business. They allow dogs. They allow kids. These are all restrictions for places like mine, which I have to abide by.
I feel it’s a case of “don’t shit where you eat.” Some of these breweries I have helped to launch. I welcomed them into Small Bar when they had just opened, put them on tap, made a big deal about it, and then a year later they’re my neighbor. And they’re asking me not only to buy their beer, they’re taking my neighborhood customers and even sometimes my staff. So it leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I feel like it’s disrespectful and it’s not being sensitive to what my business is. And then, in addition, asking me to buy their beer — that’s pretty bold.
Yes. Many of these people are my friends. But they didn’t come talk to me before they made their decision [about where to open].
I’m not sure it’s been raised with the Brewers Guild. That’s kind of why I’ve started to talk about it. Because nobody’s talking about it. People are just kind of taking it. I understand, from the brewery perspective, that they have a lot of money sunk into the business and they have to do what they have to do to keep their business afloat, but at the same time I would ask them, “Why are you in this business? What’s your business model?”
Right. Newport Avenue in OB. 30th Street. And North Park in general. I had this conversation recently, actually with a brewery that is opening a tasting room, and I wanted to have a respectful conversation about what made them decide on their location, and why they thought that was okay based on our relationship. And their response was that they did research, and they knew that tourism is booming, and that going there wasn’t going to affect me at all. They expect me to do just as well as they’re going to do because we’re building this neighborhood to be the next tourist hot spot. But I just don’t really see that. I could be wrong, but I don’t see it.
Let me put it this way. I would say that the average person has a weekly or monthly budget of what they can spend on beer, on eating out, on that kind of thing. Disposable income. Let’s say they have $50 a week. So, every time a new place opens, those people are saying, “Oh, I wanna check that out.” Now, I’m not crazy enough to think that those people were always spending their $50 at my business, but when I talk to my colleagues in the industry and we talk about these tasting rooms popping up and everyone agrees that they’re getting hurt, it’s very clear that we’re losing business.
Yes. Yes, I have.
Absolutely. And it’s not even just San Diego. I have a friend, Chris Black, who owns Falling Rock in Denver. It’s a huge beer bar in Denver and he’s starting to see his numbers go down because tasting rooms are starting to pop up there, too. He’s going to be a speaker at a conference coming up and he says he’s going to bring it up and talk about it. So, it’s not just me feeling it, but I feel it’s just me talking about it.
I think that there are tons of up-and-coming neighborhoods; they’re filled with people who are mid-to-late-thirties who are just buying their first homes. These are places where they can afford to buy homes — and those places aren’t in North Park or University Heights. It’s in City Heights. In La Mesa. In El Cajon. I think the growth potential for locations like that is huge. People out in those neighborhoods want variety — and there’s just too much variety here.
Look, do the math: There’s 150 breweries and each of them is entitled to do up to 6 tasting rooms. That’s 900 tasting rooms that we could have in San Diego County! So why do we have to put them all right here? I say, make destinations. We should have things in all parts of the county so people can go all over and explore different neighborhoods. By putting all the tasting rooms in one place, you’re starting to take away from that one area’s neighborhood and the people that live there. There’s only so much disposable income those people can use in those neighborhoods.
Here’s the second solution: When I was still part of Hamilton’s, the first tasting room that opened was Stone, right on 30th Street, just a few blocks up from us. We had concerns about what this was going to do to our business, and Stone assured us that nothing would change for us and we shouldn’t feel threatened. Still, we pushed it and asked for lots of information, and — I don’t know if it was from our conversations or they decided on their own — but Stone decided to have restrictions on the amount of beer you could consume at their tasting room. So, you could go in there and get four or five tasters and then you could take a growler home or you just had to go. And I appreciated that because, in my opinion, that’s the definition of what a tasting room should be. You should be able to go in, have a taste, and see what this brewery’s all about; find out where they’re on tap. Take some home and enjoy it. And then go visit those places where that brewery is on tap. And, guess what? When those customers come in and tell me they went and tasted in a tasting room, that tells me there’s a demand and I’m probably going to buy more of their beer, instead of having them competing with me. I wish that more tasting rooms would actually adopt the approach that Stone took. What people are doing now, in essence, is creating bars.
I think the most important thing to me right now is consumer awareness; for consumers to know how their patronage of tasting rooms is affecting a business like mine (and many others). I don’t think most people realize what they’re doing to the small businesses when they choose to spend a majority of their income at places like that.
Yes and no. They’re coming into a scene and being opportunistic in an industry that they weren’t a part of five years ago. And let me just clarify something here: I don’t have a problem with breweries. Breweries mean more jobs, they pay their dues with crazy rents — I see breweries differently. The pizza place that’s opening up across from Small Bar is going to have a brewery and that doesn’t bother me. I think that’s adding character to this neighborhood.
No. This is a huge county. I think that there are too many breweries and I think that they’re not all making amazing beer. I think people need to be honest with themselves and with what’s happening. The bubble’s absolutely going to burst. The problem, I think, is that the brewers and everyone in the industry believes that we’re all just killing it business-wise, but the truth is we’re not. That was maybe true five years ago, but it isn’t anymore.
Because this is a complicated and sensitive subject for many people in the beer community, we welcome your comments and thoughts as part of our effort to consider and debate all sides of the issue. If you are a brewery/tasting room owner and wish to present an additional point of view in this forum, please contact me at [email protected] so we can discuss it.
Are Tasting Rooms Hurting San Diego’s Beer Bars?
Karen Barnett of Small Bar wants a wider dialogue about tasting rooms. | Photo: Bruce Glassman
San Diego entrepreneur Kenji Blouin-Ito is turning a tiny Uptown Inn space into a destination for bentos, coffee, snacks, and more
Tokyo unquestionably holds the title as one of the best, if not the best, food cities of the world. But despite the plethora of Michelin-starred kaiseki restaurants and hole-in-the-wall ramen joints, you’d be remiss in walking past glowing signs beckoning you to enter one of the 56,000-plus konbini across the country.
Konbini cafes like Lawson’s, FamilyMart, and 7-Eleven may look like run-of-the-mill convenience stores, but convenience store culture is a completely different animal there. Absent are the sad, floppy hot dogs sizzling sweatily on a rotating wheel of misery. Instead, konbini are stocked with a bevy of hot and cold drinks in every imaginable flavor, meals like tamago sandos (Japanese egg salad sandwiches) and prepacked bento boxes, snacks like onigiri (handheld triangles of rice and seaweed, often filled with fish or pickled plum), and even limited-edition merchandise (not unlike Wawa’s line of merch).
Soon, Hillcrest will get a taste of konbibi culture. Hako Hako opens in front of Uptown Inn by Vantaggio, next to Ramen Ryoma, in early 2027.
Kenji Blouin-Ito, a half-Japanese, half-French San Diego native grew up eating Japanese food at home and during trips across the Pacific. “I remember looking forward to eating bentos on the train,” he says, grabbing quick items to munch on without sacrificing quality or succumbing to cost. When in France, he saw a rise of appreciation for casual Japanese cuisine, “long before it happened here.”

So he decided to bring it here. After AB 626 passed in 2018 to allow different jurisdictions to permit Microenterprise Home Kitchen Operations (MEHKOs), Blouin-Ito launched Foodnome, the first legal marketplace for homemade food in the US. Eventually, the national nonprofit The Cook Alliance took over the project, leaving him open to the next new idea but with the experience of running a food-based business.
“That experience changed how I think about food, not just what makes it good but what makes it work,” he explains. Bento boxes felt affordable in a time of inflation, convenient in a bustling world, and versatile to a variety of palates. When he got the chance to open a konbini himself, he went for it.
His family runs Uptown Inn, a mix of apartments and hotel rooms that’s seen increased food traffic over the past few years. “We had a small space in front of the building that wasn’t being used, and it just made sense,” he says. Hako means “box” in Japanese, a reference to both bentos and small space from where he’ll sling freshly made bentos, coffee, drinks, pastries, snacks, and a small retail selection.
Hako Hako will initially open for morning and afternoon hours, but you don’t have to wait until next year to get a taste of Japanese culture. Blouin-Ito’s concept is popping up at various coffee shops around San Diego, with a few coming up: Easy Does It on September 19 and Cafe Moto on October 17. Until then, practice the art of gaman: patience with grace.
Hako Hako opens at 819 University Avenue in Hillcrest in early 2027.
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].
Beth Demmon is an award-winning writer and podcaster whose work regularly appears in national outlets and San Diego Magazine. Her first book, The Beer Lover's Guide to Cider, is now available. Find out more on bethdemmon.com.
With Sosal Line, Heidi Greenwood and Juerie Masters are importing traceable seafood from small producers and building a global pantry business along the way
No matter your job, it’s helpful to find some sort of joy in it to avoid going completely insane. Some people savor the variety of personalities when dealing with customers. Others find comfort in the predictability of closing a bar after last call, counting tips and wiping counters. Perhaps achieving Inbox Zero really gets your blood pumping, or shipping a new product design sparks joy.
For Heidi Greenwood and Juerie Masters, work doesn’t get better than logistics and operations.
“[We] both love all the unsexy parts of supply chain and backend management,” laughs Greenwood. Tracking outbound orders? Ensuring compliance? Managing inbound freight? Stop me if this is getting too hot for you!
Not enough people think about the unsexy reality of running a business before launch, but effectively and consistently keeping an eye on operations separates successful companies from out-of-business ones. Both Masters and Greenwood already own their own businesses—Greenwood is behind the wine zine Campestre Mag and runs the online wine shop Esquina, and Masters co-owns Clos Wine Shop and Fintastic Provisions in University Heights with her husband Paul. Apparently, these gigs weren’t enough to satisfy their collective yearning for spreadsheets and inventory maintenance.
So, they decided to start another business together—Sosal Line, a San Diego-based import and distribution company specializing in global pantry items. The pair launched Sosal Line at the beginning of 2025 and currently only sell three brands of tinned fish, but Greenwood says they plan to expand their offerings as they discover other small or family-run businesses that share their values.
“We want to work with brands and with products that really have a sense of place and actually tell a story—not just the product, but the people behind it too,” she says.
Masters and Greenwood are both Korean-American and named this burgeoning business after Haenyeo, the legendary free-diving women of Jeju Island in South Korea. Traditional Haenyeo equipment and garb include oribal (swim fins), yeoncheol (lead belts to help them sink), and the company’s namesake sosal, a hand-held fishing spear (sometimes called jaksal).
The average person, if sitting completely still, can stay underwater for up to a minute and a half at most. Haenyeo can hold their breath for up to three minutes while actively foraging, harvesting, and swimming. Scientists say these diving women spend more time underwater than any other group of humans on earth. Not badass enough for you? The average age of Haenyeo is around 70.

“Fishing is a strong heritage for Koreans, and it’s the same here in San Diego with the Portuguese settlers,” Greenwood explains. (We aren’t the tuna capital of the US for no reason.)
Sosal Line carries 100 percent traceable, wild caught fish from Galicia in Northern Spain and the Pacific Northwest, all family-owned companies who don’t compromise on sustainable practices. Tinned fish has never been more popular—or more debated—but there’s more to it than cute labels designed for maximum Instagram reach. “I want to know who I’m purchasing from,” says Greenwood. One of their suppliers, Craft Fish Co., which is based in San Diego but fishes in the PNW, is run by JJ and Jessica Gerritsen. JJ catches, Jessica packages, and it’s a business relationship on a first-name basis. “You can’t find that when you’re working with some nameless brand.”
San Diegans can find Sosal Line products at local retailers like Clos/Fintastic (obviously), allmine in Oceanside, Always Hungry Grocery & Goods in Carlsbad, J. Brix Wines in San Marcos, Collins & Coupe/Tablespoon in North Park, and Green Acre in La Jolla. They’re also available in select retailers in Northern California, Oregon, Arizona, and strangely enough, South Carolina. Expanding its client base is, of course, a goal. But not at the expense of quality or joy of discovery.
“I would love to see people try food from different cultures and be excited about it,” says Greenwood. “Maybe make them want to travel to experience different areas of the world.”
Beth Demmon is an award-winning writer and podcaster whose work regularly appears in national outlets and San Diego Magazine. Her first book, The Beer Lover's Guide to Cider, is now available. Find out more on bethdemmon.com.
The folks behind Oddish Wine and Lost Cause Meadery are partnering with Bica to open an all-day cafe, coffee shop, wine bar, and restaurant near La Mesa Village
La Mesa: a bucolic, hill-dappled city long regarded as a somewhat frumpy, never quite trendy bridge between the urban cool of Mid-City and the rural sprawls of East County. La Mesa’s population clocks in at around 4 percent of the city of San Diego’s—fewer than Chula Vista, Oceanside, Escondido, Carlsbad, El Cajon, Vista, San Marcos, and Encinitas, in that order. It’s home to a killer Oktoberfest, one of the best charter high schools in the state, and a theatrical mayor who tools around town in a golf cart (and so far, hasn’t cut any arts funding or closed public bathrooms).
But any area that’s only 20 minutes from downtown San Diego and under 20 miles to Mission Bay will only stay under the radar for so long. Slowly but surely, bits and bobs from San Diego’s cultural tastemakers have been popping up all over town. Dark Horse Coffee and the boutique Small Batch both opened in La Mesa in 2018. Stella Jean’s and Pop Pie are coming later this year. Native Poppy is building its new headquarters and studio this fall. After a year in business, the new owners of JK’s Greek have established themselves as one of the best Greek restaurants in the county.
Next year, La Mesa will get one of its most ambitious projects yet. Billy and Suzanna Beltz, owners of Lost Cause Meadery and Oddish Wine, are pouring everything they have into renovating a 5,000-square-foot building between the Village and MacArthur Park to open a wine/beer bar, coffee shop, all-day cafe, and wine shop.
The concept doesn’t have a name (yet), and Bica in Normal Heights will come on as a partner to run the restaurant aspect and coffee program (which also won’t be called Bica. Still lots of naming decisions to be made). But the Beltz’s vision is to create something in La Mesa that doesn’t exist yet—a community gathering space open from morning until night that’s family-friendly, creatively designed, and well… cool.
The building has been around since the 1940s, first operating as a neighborhood market, then butcher shop, secondhand children’s store, electronics store, dry cleaners, and bike shop. The Beltzses say they plan to keep the “soul and character” of the space as much as possible, highlighting original details like a barrel-shaped wooden roof, brightening up the corner building by utilizing the large front windows, and eventually building an outdoor dining/drinking space and kid-friendly area—a must for the neighborhood’s plethora of young families. They tapped all locals for the design and build: Tecscape Design, design consultant Carly Miller-Chen (who owns Ayi boutique in South Park) to create the space, and local contractor CLTVT.

Starting in the morning, the space will offer coffee and light breakfast items before transitioning to lunch and dinner menus, plus a full bar that will feature Oddish and Lost Cause products as well as other local wines, beers, ciders, and other beverages alongside an aperitivo program and low-ABV cocktails and spritzes. Food-wise, they plan to install a wood-fired oven and rotisserie, but expect more menu details to be revealed closer to opening.
There will also be a small retail space focused on natural wines and ciders from places like Raging Cider & Mead in San Marcos and other San Diego and Baja California makers. But don’t expect run-of-the-mill options from the guy who makes weird wines and mead, the oldest alcoholic beverage in human history (hardly TikTok trend material). “We have a unique perspective… Hopefully we can expand some palates and minds in the process,” says Billy.
Community is the heart of the project, more than food, more than drinks. “We have a young family. [Bica owners] Manny [Da Luz] and Charlie [Knowles] have families,” says Billy. Suzanna adds: “People want a space that they know they’re going to get really amazing food, really fun drinks, but they can also feel like they can bring their kids during the weeknights.” It won’t be North Park 2.0, although many families now living in La Mesa came from various neighborhoods across Mid-City (like the Beltzes). It’s filling a void. It’s something they can build from the ground up. And just maybe, it’s something that will surprise people who have yet to discover La Mesa’s potential.
Oddish Wine/Lost Cause Meadery’s new concept is projected to open by the end of 2027 at 8495 La Mesa Blvd.

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].
Beth Demmon is an award-winning writer and podcaster whose work regularly appears in national outlets and San Diego Magazine. Her first book, The Beer Lover's Guide to Cider, is now available. Find out more on bethdemmon.com.
ArtsConnect brings those experiences into view, helping residents discover what they can see, hear and create at UC San Diego while experiencing the campus in a new way.
Ask most people what UC San Diego is known for, and the arts may not be the first answer. Yet this fall, San Diegans can watch Ghostbusters with a live orchestra, try their hand at glassmaking and wander among more than 20 works of public art woven throughout the university’s La Jolla campus.
ArtsConnect brings those experiences into view, helping residents discover what they can see, hear and create at UC San Diego while experiencing the campus in a new way.

“The arts are at the heart of UC San Diego’s student-centered mission and vision,” says Alysson Satterlund, Vice Chancellor for Student Affairs and Campus Life. “Whether creating, participating in, or experiencing performances, the arts are essential to a healthy and truly fun Triton student experience.”
That invitation often begins where the arts intersect with other fields.
“Some of the most innovative work and discovery happen where disciplines don’t usually share a stage,” says Cristina Della Coletta, Dean of the UC San Diego School of Arts and Humanities. “So through our unique intersection of the arts with science, technology, and medicine, we are improving lives, physically and emotionally.
Take The Inaudible Ocean, a collaboration between Department of Music Professor Lei Liang and Scripps Institution of Oceanography Assistant Project Scientist Josh Jones. Over eight years, the pair recorded earthquakes, ship noise, whale songs and other sounds in remote underwater locations. They transformed those recordings into a live music experience that allowed audiences to hear the ocean in an entirely new way. The work premiered on campus in May and continues to evolve.
The arts also connect the campus to the global art world and diverse perspectives. Chief Campus Curator Jessica Berlanga Taylor recently curated the Mexico Pavilion at the 61st Venice Biennale, featuring RojoNegro, the collective formed by Noé Martínez and María Sosa. The collective will unveil a compelling new permanent installation for UC San Diego’s celebrated Stuart Collection later this fall.

ArtPower offers another easy entry point, bringing touring performers to venues including the outdoor Epstein Family Amphitheater and the intimate Loft. The nearly three dozen performances featured through its 2026-2027 season span music, dance, film, theater and conversation.
Among the fall highlights is Ghostbusters in Concert on Sept. 25, pairing the beloved 1984 film with a live performance of Elmer Bernstein’s score. Tickets start at $35, and the amphitheater is located next to the UC San Diego Blue Line trolley station.
“Every member of our community should have access to world-class art, so we work hard to remove the barriers that stand in the way,” says Colleen Kollar Smith, executive artistic director of the Campus Performances and Events Office. “That means affordable ticket prices, and performances, voices and experiences where people see themselves reflected on stage and know they belong.”
The arts at UC San Diego are not only something to watch. The Craft Center offers public classes and workshops in ceramics, jewelry, woodworking, culinary arts and even surfboard shaping. At the new Glass Center, beginners and experienced makers can explore glassmaking through classes, demonstrations and studio experiences.
Whether you want to attend a performance, make something yourself or spend an afternoon exploring public art, there is an easy way in. And the invitation extends well beyond students and alumni.
Kollar Smith says it best: “Visit, participate, spectate or create. You’re invited, and we hope you’ll connect with us soon.”
Explore upcoming experiences at ucsd.edu/artsconnect.
At The Delicate Squash, Shannon English is rethinking cookies, cakes, and pastries with seasonal ingredients and natural sweeteners
Midway through my phone conversation with Shannon English, owner of The Delicate Squash, I hear an alarm shrilling in her background.
“Sorry, I’ve got to pull some cookies out of the oven right now!” she apologizes. After a few beats, she picks the phone back up and laughs. “I feel like I’m bouncing around all over the place.”
After hearing her run through a list of her professions and current hobbies, I’d have to agree. English runs The Delicate Squash, a gluten- and dairy-free bakery; teaches cooking demos; pops up at farmers markets; wrote a book of poetry (Deep Water came out this month from Beyond the Veil Press); hosts a monthly open mic night; dipped her toe into ballet; recently joined a running club; volunteers at local farms; and finally, teaches at a play-based, nature-based preschool.
I’m tired just talking to her.
Surprising no one, English seems to have unlimited energy and enthusiasm for all this work, notably in education. Early childhood education is one of the most pivotal times for nurturing lifelong learning, but she also aims to educate the public on how to eat cleaner, feel better, and support your local food systems. She started The Delicate Squash in late 2023 after discovering she has a chronic illness, going through the typical standards of care and even strict elimination diets, to no avail.

“I’m not going to say I found a diet that has ‘cured’ me, but I have found that taking a more mindful approach to a lot of things, including diet, has made symptoms far more manageable for me,” she says.
Even people with dietary restrictions deserve a little treat from time to time, but she had a hard time finding anything that tasted good and made her feel good. Thus, The Delicate Squash was born.
All of her baked goods avoid gluten and dairy, and use natural sweeteners like coconut sugar or maple syrup as well as herbs, fruits, foraged flowers, and other natural flavorings. Her signature cookie, the “Delicate” cookie, is a sea salt dark chocolate cookie that’s soft, a little salty, a little sweet, and made with oatmeal to keep it gluten-free. Other crowd favorites are thumbprint jam cookies with jams made from scratch with change seasonally; breakfast pastries like orange, dark chocolate and cardamom scones; brownies; orange and black sesame banana bread; seasonal pies; and custom and seasonal cakes (currently, the late summer flavor is a dark chocolate coconut milk ganache with berry jam).
English says some people are surprised she can produce such a variety of goods with the dietary restrictions she adheres to. “A lot of feedback I get is ‘I could never do that,’” she says. But if she can do it, she assures me that anyone can. “I like to say ‘practice makes progress, not perfection.’”
Her advice? Focus more on being present than presentation, and don’t be afraid to experiment to keep things interesting. And if that doesn’t work, you can always hit her open mic night to ask for tips.
Customers can order from The Delicate Squash’s online store, check her upcoming schedule of pop-ups, or find her goods at various independent retailers around San Diego.
Escondido is getting in on the listening bar phenomenon. On September 5, musicians Mat Rakers, Kevin Capacia, and Billy Petty will open Plot Armor, a Japanese-style vinyl listening bar that Rakers says they aim to feel “curated and intelligent.”
“Currently, there are not a lot of ‘cool’ spots in Escondido,” he says. Backed by The San Diego Music And Art Company and The Escondido Music And Art Company, Plot Armor will soon offer sake, wine, beer, and soju cocktails, plus Japanese non-alcoholic options and cold brew. Eventually, they’ll add Japanese-inspired snacks, but the focus will be creating a small place (very small—the seating capacity is 20) where vinyl junkies can come listen, linger, and libate.

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].
Beth Demmon is an award-winning writer and podcaster whose work regularly appears in national outlets and San Diego Magazine. Her first book, The Beer Lover's Guide to Cider, is now available. Find out more on bethdemmon.com.
After a blind taste test, these four desserts came out on top—see the winners here
Basque grandmothers have not been making it for centuries. If you’re a millennial, there’s a strong possibility you’re older than the dessert itself. Yet somehow in less than 40 years, the Basque cheesecake—a half-pudding, half-cake creation with a top that looks like a mistake—managed to ooze its way onto menus all over the world.
It became the undisputed dessert star of San Diego’s restaurant world this year. So we invited 19 of the top restaurants, pastry chefs, and bakers to bring their best to the San Diego Magazine office for a blind taste test to find the best in the city.
First, a little history and context.
In 1987, after failing to find a job as an electrician, Santiago Rivera started working as a bartender at his parents’ unassuming pintxo bar La Viña, in San Sebastián, Spain. He was a naturally curious, self-taught cook who spent his free time testing recipes, tinkering with ingredients, and tweaking techniques.
So when it came to the cheesecake—which hadn’t changed much since its invention (a rudimentary version was served at the first Olympics in Greece 4,000 years ago, and the modern New York version in 1872)—he got radical with it.
He removed the crust (partly just to speed up the process because time is money for a small business). Without the crumbly crust, the experience was far creamier, less granulated. Then he cranked the oven to 400 degrees, nearly 100 degrees hotter than the normal baking temperature.
The result? The top became deeply caramelized, almost burnt, while leaving the center luxuriously soft and loosely set. The restaurant became a legend because of this breakthrough in the dairy arts, and his father never let him stop making it after that.
Now, 67 years after the restaurant’s opening, La Viña stands out for the unceasing line spilling onto the street, and the remarkable amount of curd cultists standing nearby, hovering over cream-smeared plastic containers. It’s the kind of scene that makes you stop and think: What the hell are they eating?
Now, the blind tasting. To keep things fair, the contenders were divided into four categories: Restaurant Traditional, Restaurant Flavored, Bakery Traditional, and Bakery Flavored. (It’s a tad unfair to pit a baker who specializes in the one glorious thing against a restaurant that cooks dozens of things.) Each entry was served blind and judged on texture, flavor, and number of vaguely inappropriate food moans.
The logistics were chaotic, to say the least. Our fridge—not a walk-in, sadly—was packed to the brim. Each cake was sliced, secretly labeled, and shuffled onto plates while the team gathered in the conference room. The whole shebang was not in any way sponsored by Lactaid, despite our various attempts to convince them of this ripe marketing opportunity.
The judging became gloriously unhinged. We heard it all, from “I don’t care how the cheesecake gets in my mouth, it just needs to happen,” and “Is it supposed to be this jiggly?” to “Kind of a baby throw-up situation,” “Straight cheese,” and “I’m getting vague socks there.”
But four Basque cheesecakes stood out among the rest, earning themselves the title of Best Burnt Basque Cheesecake in San Diego.

A restaurant for the people. Rosarito native chef Juan González and Megan Strom are the ideal married couple to be running a farm-to-table joint. She’s been a farmer for decades, selling top-notch produce to some of the best restaurants in California—which is how the two met. A couple years ago, she started working at the small organic farm in Valley Center run by Mike Reeske, who had spent decades breeding the perfect heirloom beans for SoCal’s climate. He recently retired, and gifted those strains to Strom—who grows them (and other crops) for their tiny Escondido taco/burrito shop specializing in guisados (Mexican stews).
A Basque cheesecake in a taco shop? You bet. Juan’s got family roots in Spain and has cooked in Spanish kitchens.
Mesa Agricola’s winning Basque is by far the most “burnt” of all contenders—so much so that an Instagram follower declared it a mistake. But as Chef Juan notes, there’s an art to hitting the sweet spot where “the bitterness of the char balances the richness and sweetness without turning it into ‘chicharrón.’” Plus, char is a core charm of Baja cooking. It’s the perfect Basque for the people who prefer setting their campfire marshmallows fully on fire.

With red leather booths and a retro steakhouse vibe, Moe’s in Mission Beach is a good cheat day destination. The menu is flavor maximalism—dry-aged steaks, housemade pastas, brown liquors, and sides like the lobster truffle mac ’n’ cheese. Pastry chef Eli Peralta (whom some might remember as the creator of The Patio on Lamont’s “Twisted Elvis”—a peanut butter-banana brûlée stunner) brings that same intensity to the dessert menu.
Baked at sister restaurant Molly’s (6 feet away), his Basque is served on a bed of caramel with walnut brittle and a dollop of whipped cream, an indulgent recipe that converted the pastry chef himself. “I wasn’t crazy about cheesecakes,” Eli admits. “Then I started making different flavors, and I started to like them.” He’s not the only convert: During our blind tasting, one judge likened the cake to crème brûlée, concluding, “I don’t even like crème brûlée, but I like this.”

Every creative pursuit starts with a muse—and Lada Sadovnyk’s has been the Basque cheesecake for years. In Ukraine, she baked them for friends and family gatherings, never imagining she would one day build an entire bakery around them in the US. “When we moved to San Diego,” she explains, “I kept thinking, ‘What can I do? What do I really love to do?’”
The answer is pretty fantastic.
After obsessing over proportion and techniques, chasing that molten center and deeply caramelized top, what began as an online recipe evolved into something entirely of her own.
She moved from her home kitchen to a rented commercial kitchen close to Sports Arena. The orders kept coming, and so did the pressure. “At one point, I was thinking about divorcing my husband,” she says with a laugh (while sitting next to him). The grind paid off: Today, Muse Cheesecakes bakes roughly 1,200 cheesecakes a month and is planning to open its first brick-and-mortar home in Pacific Beach.
For our competition, the expectations met reality. Muse has made a quick name in San Diego as the Basque to beat. In a blind taste test, there’s no bias, no reputational shine to sway a room. The response on reveal: “Oh, of course.”

Husband-and-wife duo Alex and Anastasia Kiperband pulled off the number of failures (and then some) that are required of any search for the best recipe. After adjusting baking temps, sugar rations, and experimenting with different brands of cream cheese and heavy cream—they finally landed on something worthy of a business license.
“When we started this business in America, we were really nervous,” Anastasia says, co-owner of Bite Cheesecakes & Bakery.
Once they won over those first customers, their confidence grew enough to start tinkering. When Dubai chocolate took social media by storm, they developed their own version, making the pistachio paste from scratch before layering the buttery kataifi pastry beneath a glossy chocolate shell to create its signature Dubai Chocolate Basque Cheesecake.
“In a lot of situations, we’re converting cheesecake haters to cheesecake lovers,” they say. “That’s probably the best feedback that we get.”
Camila Ibarra Gallego is a CaliBaja native pursuing a master's degree in culinary journalism at the Basque Culinary Center. Shaped by the culturally rich, bicultural megaregion, she's passionate about sniffing out stories that connect people, territory and culture through food. When she's not tumbling down internet rabbit holes, you can find her pretending to be a wine connoisseur at a local wine bar or nose-deep in a good book.
Laika Nur, MD, takes her love of volleyball from the court to the clinic as team physician for the San Diego Mojo
Growing up, Laika Nur, MD, Scripps Clinic sports medicine specialist, loved watching beach volleyball when the Association of Volleyball Professionals tour came to her hometown of Chicago. A talented volleyball player herself, she remembers sitting in the stands all day, and once, even got a couple autographs. Years later, Dr. Nur was attending a professional event focused on women’s sports, and the discussion turned to a new professional women’s volleyball league. The general manager and coaching staff for San Diego’s team, the Mojo, happened to be in attendance, and Dr. Nur took the opportunity to ask them if they needed a team doctor. Flash forward to the Mojo’s inaugural 2024 season, when Dr. Nur officially became the team physician. Click here to read more about Dr. Nur and how she incorporates lessons she learned on the court into her practice.
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