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At home with San Diego Chargers All Pro linebacker Dwight Freeney
Dwight Freeney in his living room
Dwight Freeney’s penthouse
Neighborhood
Little Italy
Stats
3 bedrooms,
3.5 bathrooms
TVs
Eight (one in almost every room, including the master bedroom, which has a 65-inch flat screen, plus a large monitor for his computer)
HIS STORY: After 11 years with the Indianapolis Colts, Dwight Freeney left the snowy plains of Indiana and headed west. On the field he’s known for his pass rush, lightning speed, and signature spin move, which earned him seven consecutive spots in the Pro Bowl and a Super Bowl ring in 2007. But at home, life is quiet and simple. The 33-year-old enjoys watching movies and playing video games and poker with his friends. He also likes trying new restaurants in his foodie ’hood. “It’s like Cheers over there,” he says of Italian hotspot Bencotto. “They know me!” After Dwight signed a two-year contract with the Chargers last year, his interior designer, Tammy Westgerdes of TJ West Designs, found this penthouse unit for him. It wasn’t even on the market. Designed by starchitect (and former occupant) Jonathan Segal, the space is characterized by its modern grayish tones, sweeping city views, and exposed cement beams. When Dwight injured his quad in the second game of the season, his new home turned out to be the perfect place to rest and recover. As for missing Indiana and getting used to SD, that seems to be on the mend, too. “It’s a nice city, very laid-back,” he says of San Diego, while reclining on a sofa overlooking the bay. Laid back, indeed.
Dwight Freeney on his patio
Sliding glass pocket doors create that quintessential SoCal indoor/outdoor feel on the home’s lower level.
Wispy olive trees frame a large patio, complete with a fire pit and West Elm sofas. Linear-patterned porcelain flooring blends with black lava rocks, adding contrast and texture to the courtyard, which connects the entry, main living area, and kitchen. (Midcentury modern patio chairs by Bertoia, available at Design Within Reach)
floor to ceiling windows
Floor-to-ceiling windows in Dwight’s master suite highlight the home’s stunning city and bay views.
Dwight Freeney’s Nike Jordans in his bathroom/closet
Dwight estimates he has more than 400 pairs of Nike Jordans, with about two in rotation at any given time. We found dozens in his bathroom/closet. (Size 13.5!)
Dwight spends the majority of his time in the master suite. The Technogel bed is a favorite among pro athletes; the portable massage table at the foot of it stands as a reminder of his ongoing injury and rehab. A painting by local artist Kurt Stell is one of several pieces he acquired from Segal. In the background is Dwight’s 65-inch, 4K ultra-HD Sony TV. Imagine the grin on his face as he explains the details of this beauty, and how a relentless Best Buy salesman convinced him to purchase it. (“The guy is talking it up, and I know what he’s doing, but I can’t help myself!”) The screen is positioned just so, in front of his favorite Leathercraft recliner. “I’ve had this chair forever. I’ve been through a lot with it,” he says of the furniture item that’s seen him through five surgeries. “This is my favorite spot by far.”
The custom metal and glass stairway leads to the guest rooms and master suite upstairs, without obstructing the view. The open layout on the lower level allows for six different seating areas, including a cozy alcove with a gas fireplace in the entry and a poker table.
glass stairway
Dwight sits in his home theater on a sofa designed by Westgerdes, with a special kind of foam that prevents the sitter from sinking too low. She also customizes the height and length of her cushions—a plus for Dwight, who weighs in at about 265 pounds and is 6’1″. The footballer loves popcorn, and Gladiator and Braveheart are two of his favorite movies.(Contempo popcorn machine made by Paragon, available on Amazon.com.)
home theater
PARTNER CONTENT
Discover eateries, outings, and shops within this inland North County community
Just south of Lake Hodges near 4S Ranch and Poway, Rancho Bernardo is a suburban community that blends residential neighborhoods with industrial pockets, elevated by a decidedly diverse food scene.
Over 60 years ago, this North County neighborhood was once part of a family ranch. Since that time, big tech companies have taken up residence here, including Amazon, Sony Electronics, Oura Ring, HP, Teradata, and ASML. Rancho Bernardo Inn serves as a community hub, with locals frequently meeting at the hotel’s restaurants, golf course, and spa.
Whether it’s work or a round of golf that brings you to Rancho Bernardo, we’ve taken care of the agenda planning with our guide to the area’s best restaurants, activities, and shops.

Sample ingredients plucked straight from Rancho Bernardo Inn’s onsite garden and served at their signature restaurant Avant. One of the neighborhood’s most upscale dining options, they serve a French-inspired menu with nods to California, including many seafood options. Don’t miss their more casual sister restaurant Veranda for al fresco dining.
17550 Bernardo Oaks Drive
Wood-fired pizzas and handmade pastas are standouts at The Kitchen, Bernardo Winery’s counter-service restaurant specializing in Sicilian flavors. Charcuterie boards and bruschetta make for great starters or snacks while wine tasting.
13330 Paseo Del Verano Norte
Fast-casual and family-owned eatery Bushfire Kitchen recently opened a location in Rancho Bernardo, serving sandwiches, bowls, salads, burgers, protein plates, and housemade empanadas. Bushfire prepares comfort food with healthy ingredients, and offers plenty of vegetarian and vegan options.
11962 Bernardo Plaza Drive, Suite 110
Some might call The Cork & Craft an overachiever. This gastropub has an in-house craft brewery and winery: Abnormal Beer and Wine. The more, the merrier. Their sushi menu is definitely worth exploring, but don’t miss other specialties like garlic noodles, chicken wings, and pork belly.
16990 Via Tazon

You don’t have to leave Rancho Bernardo to get a white tablecloth steakhouse experience. Carvers Steaks & Chops has prime rib (their best seller), filet, ribeye, porterhouse, New York strip, and other cuts, served alongside crab-stuffed mushrooms, wedge salad, French onion soup, potato skins, and other steakhouse specialties.
1940 Bernardo Plaza Drive
This no-frills Burmese restaurant is known for its traditional tea leaf salad that’s topped with sesame and sunflower seeds, garlic chips, peanuts, tomatoes, jalapeños, fried yellow beans, and fermented green tea leaf dressing. Tucked into a nondescript strip mall, Burma Place is a great takeout option when you want to eat garlic noodles, fried rice, chicken curry, and samosas from the comfort of your couch.
16719 Bernardo Center Drive, Suite A
Find authentic Vietnamese cuisine at Phở Ca Dao, including favorites like phở noodle soup, vermicelli noodles, broken rice dishes, and spring rolls. One of eight locations throughout San Diego, this family-owned chain uses robot servers for food delivery.
11808 Rancho Bernardo Road, Suite 100
It’s all about the sauce at fast-casual Mediterranean restaurant The Kebab Shop. Smothering your chicken shawarma, gyro, or falafels in garlic yogurt, cilantro jalapeno, fire chili, and dill yogurt sauce is practically a rite of passage. The hardest part is deciding whether to order a wrap, bowl, or salad.
11980 Bernardo Plaza Drive
Get a taste of South Asian flavors at Casa Lahori, a Pakistani restaurant noted for its grilled meat kabobs. Other best-selling dishes include beef nihari, chicken biryani, and shahi paneer— best enjoyed with naan bread.
11975 Bernardo Plaza Drive
Grill your own meat on the tabletop at Kangnam Korean BBQ, an interactive, all-you-can-eat experience that’s well-suited for large groups. Marinated beef bulgogi, grilled galbi short ribs, and spicy pork are served alongside traditional banchan dishes like kimchi, japchae glass noodles, and flavorful stews. Weekday lunch specials provide a nice discount on these filling meals.
11828 Rancho Bernardo Road, Suite 117–119

Dig in to your favorite curries and kebabs at Curry & More Indian Bistro. Most entrees are served with a choice of two side dishes, including basmati rice, potatoes with cumin, daal, naan, or mixed greens. Help offset the spice with one of their sweet mango or strawberry lassi drinks.
11808 Rancho Bernardo Road, Suite 123
Kai Oliver-Kurtin is a San Diego-based writer who covers travel, dining, events, and culture. Her writing has been published in USA Today, Condé Nast Traveler, Fodor's Travel, Marie Claire, and HuffPost, among others.
San Diego architects and designers spill on the trends, textures, and ideas shaping the city's homes today
Craftsmans and Spanish Revivalists and mid-century modernists—why does San Diego have so many different architectural styles? What makes a home distinctly San Diego? What are the trends shaping the look of the city’s neighborhoods for years to come? We asked the experts: architects and designers honoring the past, crafting the present, and radically altering the future of San Diego living. They opened their portfolios, shared points of view, and treated us to snapshots of their latest work that speaks to the ideas they’re playing with. The result? Six trends, design choices, and a proposal to make local homes unique. Grab a lemonade and get a little inspo for your own place.
“Clients are now reaching for comfortable outdoor spaces that can be controlled for subtle shifts in the environment—heated covered porches, or patios with controlled louvered ceilings with integrated fans, lighting, heaters, and adjustable light.” –Mark Morris, Oasis Architecture & Design
“I think outdoor spaces in San Diego can be as useful or even more useful than indoor spaces. Relating to the site, view, [and] neighborhood can bring so much value and richness to a home.” –Bill Bocken, Bill Bocken Architecture & Interior Design

“After years of modern farmhouses—black windows, white houses, and gray walls and floors—natural tones are coming back. We are seeing a return to organic textures and more saturated color. Homes feel layered rather than stark.” –Susan Wintersteen, Savvy Interiors
“There’s a move toward homes that feel like every element has a purpose. I see a strong desire for warmth and natural stone, wood, organic textures with softer transitions, and materials that age well.” –Jen Pinto, Jackson Design & Remodeling
“I would like to see even more architectural integrity, fewer quick flips, and more thoughtful renovations that respect proportion, scale, and context. San Diego deserves homes that feel timeless, not transactional.” –Susan Wintersteen, Savvy Interiors
“We want to see people respecting the original character of their homes while re-imagining them for modern life, rather than erasing character in favor of quick transformations that look ‘cookie-cutter.’” –John Kavan, Jackson Design & Remodeling
“Homeowners are staying in their homes longer—some 15 or 20 years. That has shifted design away from trend-driven choices and toward architecturally driven spaces that are functional, cohesive, timeless, and designed to support daily life over decades.” –Jen Pinto, Jackson Design & Remodeling

“There’s a noticeable move away from literal ‘coastal themes’ and toward more layered, textural environments. San Diego homes today often feel cleaner, more architectural, and more personal.” –Julie Crosby, designer
“Today, the aesthetic is more refined but still rooted in ease. It is coastal without being cliché and modern without being cold. The throughline is light, air, and a relaxed sophistication that reflects how people actually live here.” –Susan Wintersteen, Savvy Interiors
“When you can live outdoors most of the year, architecture and interiors must support that. Large format doors, layered patios, durable materials, and seamless flooring transitions all stem from lifestyle.” –Susan Wintersteen, Savvy Interiors
“Nearly everyone wants to take advantage of the constant sunshine, so we see a huge desire for indoor-outdoor living, light and airy fabrics, organic materials that bring the feeling of nature into the home, and a desire to incorporate a relaxed, coastal lifestyle into everyday living.” –Lilli Fish, LS Design Studio
Lili Kim is a content coordinator and writer for San Diego Magazine, with experience highlighting local businesses and communities. When not writing or shooting film, she is likely brewing her seventh cup of tea of the day or strolling along Sunset Cliffs.
How "invisible architects" restore some of San Diego's most iconic buildings—despite financial and policy challenges
San Diego’s most iconic architectural tower sat closed and vacant for over 80 years until the invisible architects came in.
A century ago, the dramatic structure we now know as the California Building greeted visitors to the 1915–16 Panama–California Exposition in Balboa Park. It was covered in ornate pilasters, colorful tiles shone on its domed roof, and an attached eight-story tower surveyed the expo below. The building resembled a church, yet attendees who stepped inside expecting a sermon instead encountered an exhibit called The Story of Man Through the Ages. The showcase would inspire the building’s longtime-permanent use as the Museum of Us (formerly the Museum of Man).
Its tower became famous but furtive. Shut to the public in 1935, it spent decades as an instantly recognizable but inaccessible landmark. Finally, the museum decided that the California Tower would reopen for tours by 2015 and be outfitted for earthquake safety by 2020.
The challenge was significant. In order to keep it secure during seismic shifts, the whole structure needed steel braces, concrete walls, and tension rods—major infrastructure that had to remain a secret; hidden so that it didn’t alter the tower’s legendary look.
The people who completed the work were secret, too. Sort of.
“We call ourselves ‘invisible architects,’” says David Marshall, principal architect at Heritage Architecture & Planning, the firm tasked with restoring the California Tower. “Most architects going through school, their dream is to create something that’s never been created before. That’s not what preservation architects do. We are following the footsteps of great designers, and we don’t want to leave our fingerprints on everything we work on.”

Marshall has spent the last 35 years returning iconic San Diego structures to their original shine: Balboa Theatre, the Top Gun house, Hotel del Coronado, and the Western Metal Supply Co. building, to name a few. And those are just the well-known ones. San Diego has more than 1,000 buildings—from modest homes to multi-story civic structures—that qualify as historic for various reasons.
“Number one is age: It has to be over 30 years old,” says Cathy Herrick, who founded the development company San Diego Historic Properties with her father Leon in 1984. (Though that’s not a hard-and-fast rule—Marshall’s team was able to help top local architect Jonathan Segal designate three of his buildings constructed after 2000, since any structure proven to be architecturally significant is up for consideration.)
“Second, it has to have enough of its original fabric—like 90 percent,” Herrick continues. The preservationist’s ultimate goal is to gently repair and, if absolutely necessary, replace weakened or damaged portions of the building while making modern safety and accessibility upgrades.
Marshall and his team completed a $160 million renovation at the Hotel del Coronado last year, and even seemingly minor details required some creative problem-solving.

“We were trying to bring back the historic handrails around the front porch,” he explains. “They were built in 1888, so they didn’t meet the current code—they were only 29 inches tall instead of 42 inches tall.” On top of their diminutive stature, the handrails had seven-inch gaps between their pickets, more than twice the current safety requirement of less than four inches. The Heritage Architecture team’s solution: build exact replicas of the original handrails, but add a frameless glass rail behind them that’s only visible up close.
At The Beau—Herrick’s $5 million restoration of an 1886 Gaslamp Quarter hotel said to have been a favorite haunt of Al Capone—“there was a section of redwood staircase banisters and posts that were deteriorated,” Herrick says. “We took the pieces that remained and sent them to Northern California to a guy who specializes in hand-tilling [creating a distressed appearance on the redwood]. He made new pieces to match the historic.”
Restoring an old building for a new purpose—which preservation architects call adaptive reuse—can become even trickier. “Standard number one is to find a new use that’s compatible with the historic use,” like turning an old hotel into apartments, Marshall says.
His team transformed the Western Metal Supply Co. building at Petco Park into suites and a team store for Padres fans. “Warehouses like that are the easiest to convert because they’re usually large, open spaces with very few columns and partitions,” he explains. Any additions can be torn out by future preservationists, returning the building to its original state.
All these efforts to preserve the past don’t come cheap. “At The Beau Hotel, we wanted to put back the original 140-year-old bay windows. There were only eight of them, but it would have cost me $750,000,” Herrick says. “You sometimes have to make the economic decision to go with something that looks like the original but really is new.”

Another challenge is that skilled artisans capable of restoring and replicating historical designs and materials are becoming increasingly rare. Over her four-decade career, Herrick utilized craftspeople—some in their 80s—who specialize in unique skills like repointing historic brick or reworking century-old window sashes. “Those guys aren’t around anymore,” she says. “It’s a lost art.”
Historical preservation may also be under threat from a policy perspective. As of now, the City of San Diego automatically reviews any building that’s over 45 years old before it’s demolished or its exterior is altered. But with the city’s current focus on densification and increased housing, Marshall says, “there seems to be a lot of push for fewer restrictions on new construction in historic neighborhoods.”
A proposed amendment to the current Heritage Preservation program would alter that automatic review process because it is “a reactive and, overall, less efficient approach to historic preservation,” says Kelley Stanco, deputy director of Climate, Preservation & Public Spaces for the City Planning Department. “Of the roughly 3,500 properties reviewed every year, 85 to 90 percent are found to have no potential historic significance. In addition to creating unnecessary delays for project applicants, it is an ineffective use of city resources that could be more effectively spent proactively surveying and identifying what is significant and bringing those properties forward for designation.”

Another suggested amendment would give the Historical Resources Board new recourse for overturning historical designations. “If a building owner wants to tear down these newly designated historic houses, they’re gonna go to the council and appeal and, depending if they have any leverage—financially or otherwise—the council could say, ‘It’s not historic anymore,’” Marshall says. He fears that the change would “open the door to nothing being able to stay designated historic and nothing being safe from demolition.”
Stanco argues that changes to the city’s Heritage Preservation program are intended “not to eliminate historic preservation, but rather to incorporate…other important factors” like housing, equity, and sustainability.
The Save Our Heritage Organization (SOHO), a nonprofit dedicated to preserving historical architecture in San Diego, recently sent a letter, signed by former members and staff of the San Diego Historical Resources Board, to Mayor Todd Gloria and the city council decrying delays in historic designation reviews and nominations, among other concerns.
Ultimately, “growth and preservation are compatible,” believes SOHO Executive Director Bruce Coons. “The fact of the matter is that even if all the eligible houses and buildings were designated, it would be one percent or less of the city’s entire housing stock.”

Coons considers many historic properties “naturally occurring affordable housing”: They already exist, for one, giving them a financial leg-up on costly new builds. They’re also typically smaller than contemporary homes, and San Diego’s Mills Act financially incentivizes homeowners to maintain their historic houses through property tax relief. A number of structures in older San Diego neighborhoods also added ADUs during the first and second World Wars, contributing to density.
And beyond the practical, these structures contribute an inimitable texture to the local landscape. San Diego is unique for its mix of architectural styles—the famous Spanish Revival buildings, of course, but also Victorian, Pueblo-style, Art Deco, Craftsman, ranch-style, and midcentury-modern structures, spread across popular neighborhoods like Hillcrest, Bankers Hill, North Park, Point Loma, La Jolla, Logan Heights, and more.
“Our built environment is really what makes San Diego what it is,” Coons says. “It’s difficult to get meaning from a stucco box. I think San Diegans want to feel like San Diegans, and [historical buildings] provide that context, meaning, depth, and character to our lives. We realize that when they’re gone.”
Amelia Rodriguez is a writer and journalist and winner of the San Diego Press Club's 2023 Rising Star Award and 2024 Best of Show Award, she’s also covered music, food, arts and culture, fashion, and design for Rolling Stone, Palm Springs Life, and other national and regional publications. After work, you can find her hunting down San Diego’s best pastries and maintaining her five-year Duolingo streak.
The 29-year-old culinary director at Herb & Sea is making seafood sexy (and approachable) again
Implementing a farm-to-table model hardly deserves acknowledgement these days. It’s not a stretch. It’s not innovative. “It’s the bare f**king minimum,” says Herb & Sea‘s executive chef Aidan Owens.
When I arrive at the Encinitas restaurant, I’m ready to talk sustainability, farm-to-table stuff, with Owens. “Did you see the chin on that?” he says of the extra big jiggly chin on the sheephead that just arrived with the day’s fresh catch. I did. It was Jay Leno adjacent.
I learn quickly that he somehow oozes both charm and stone-cold honesty. Maybe he could construct a new dish with chin goo, like he did when he had a bunch of tuna scraps and voila’d it into a smooth and crowd-pleasing ‘nduja. “I want to know what’s in there,” he says.

The instinct to look closer, to dig into what others might discard, says a lot about the chef’s approach. I guide him back to our topic, but he has something else on his mind. “We’re overcomplicating food—what happened to just cooking good food and having fun with it?”
Owens grew up on a farm in Byron Bay, Australia, where sustainability wasn’t a concept you chat about so much as a way of life. Think dirt roads, backyard chickens, pulling vegetables straight from the ground, and a mother who believed that if you couldn’t pronounce the ingredients on a package, you shouldn’t eat what was inside.
Food wasn’t precious or performative. Making it was what you did because you were hungry and that’s still what inspires Owens today. “I like to cook good food because I like to eat good food,” he says.
His approach to sustainability at Herb & Sea began so naturally that it felt just like instinct. “I was just like, ‘Let’s order food from the people who live and work here,’” he says.

And why wouldn’t he when lives in San Diego? Cities all over the world vie for our goods. Our tuna is sent overseas. Our spiny lobsters hit dinner plates in China and Japan. Not to mention California’s producing a third of the country’s vegetables and three-quarters of its fruits and nuts.
“Why would we outsource when it’s all here?” Owens asks.
Sustainability, in this context, is about cooking what exists in abundance, nearby, right now. “I love the local fish here. It’s f**king delicious and San Diego citrus, I mean, it is so f**ing good,” he says.
Instead of importing ingredients, Owens also looks for nearby alternatives. “You can find really cool things in the local waters,” he says, pointing out that stingray cheeks taste similar to scallops.

Whatever he finds in that sheephead chin might just be the next substitute for marrow. But to make this work, it means getting diners amped up about the slightly unfamiliar.
Tasting menus, where diners are completely in his hands, become an opportunity to gently push boundaries. “I’ll serve mackerel, because people think they hate it,” Owens says, noting that the abundant local fish can have some fishiness. “But when it’s fresh, it’s arguably one of the best fish in the ocean.”
He also tweaks the language on the menu so people might feel more compelled to give dishes a try without preconceived notions. He might use “lengua” instead of “tongue.” “Whelk” instead of “snail.” When he puts “stingray throat” on the menu, he disarmingly calls it “skate.”
To reduce waste, scraps aren’t always discarded but rather turned into something new. Sometimes they’re smoked, cured or fermented. Apples going bad turn into apple ponzu. Lemons turn to marmalade, which stretches their usefulness far beyond peak season. “And it’s super tasty on our pizza,” he says.
What makes the food even richer, is the relationships he’s built with farmers. Though it didn’t always feel natural, Owens sought personal connection first. He recalls approaching a fisherman at the Tuna Harbor Dockside Market. “I was awkward,” he says. “I went up to him and said, ‘I like your fish.’”
Owen’s is now so close to his suppliers—like fishermen Ryan Sebo and Joe Daly—that he gets texted pictures of fresh catches right as they flop on the boat. The messages always ask if he wants first dibs. “I say yes to a lot of fish,” Owens says, noting that Herb & Sea can go through 2,000 pounds of seafood a week.

The next evolution of sustainability, in his view, will be chefs working directly with producers such as his alliance with Sebo, cutting out middlemen and purveyors where possible. “It will put more money in the pockets of the people doing the work,” he says.
It will mean that chefs can’t just know their local farmers and producers, but they’ll choose to work with the ones who have the best practices. Dining and sustainability will become much less about the final plate. “It will be more about the impact that plate has on the Earth,” he says.
Ultimately, he believes sustainability doesn’t need to be loud. It doesn’t need hashtags. It just needs to be honest.
“We aren’t saving lives. We’re feeding people good food,” he says.
And yet, in feeding people well—simply, thoughtfully, responsibly—something meaningful happens. Guests leave satisfied. Ingredients are respected. Local ecosystems are supported and food returns to what it has always been at its core: nourishment, pleasure, and a quiet reflection of the place it comes from.
No buzzwords required.
Killer insects threaten California's iconic and lucrative palm trees—but not if scientists can help it
Mark Hoddle lifts the top off a hanging trap and points down at about 20 wriggling, hefty, snout-nosed, black weevils. “They are charismatic-looking,” he says.
His job is to destroy them.
Hoddle is an entomologist at the University of California, Riverside. We are standing in the middle of the Sweetwater Reserve in Bonita, a kind of real-life Hieronymus Bosch painting illustrating an imminent arboreal hell. It’s a palm tree boneyard. Dried-up Canary Island date palm fronds lay in heaps next to behemoth headless trunks.
The shriveled trees are evidence of a wild party: an orgy of South American palm weevils. After mating atop the palm, the flying beetles lay their eggs. The larvae hatch and eat the palm heart, becoming grubs the size of chunky man thumbs, before spinning a palm fiber cocoon and rendering the palm—even
the most sturdy and vital—terminal within months. “It’s a death sentence for the tree,” Hoddle says.
Because they’re like the cow of palms—big and meaty—the date trees are by far the weevils’ favorite. But that doesn’t mean our Mexican fan palms, the tall, lithe ones lining our boulevards, are safe. “It’s like a buffet,” Hoddle says. “The weevils will get the best stuff first, and then when that’s all gone, they’ll work their way down.”
First spotted in San Ysidro in 2011, the invasive weevils are now firmly established. They’ve already taken out more than 20,000 palms in San Diego. Now, they are moving steadily north. Hoddel believes it’s only a matter of time before they arrive in the Coachella Valley, home to a $300 million date industry. When they get there, it’ll be a palm massacre, severely disrupting date-shake life. “We are trying to get
everything ready for an anticipated invasion,” Hoddle says. It’s not just the dates many are concerned about, though.

Californian identity is deeply intertwined with the palm, for good reason—along with the Gold Rush, the palm tree was one of California’s early big wins in branding.
Palm mania started slowly, explains Donald Hodel, an emeritus horticulture advisor for the University of California, Division of Agriculture and Natural Resources. Canary Island date palms, he says, were first brought over by mission-building padres in the late 1700s. They wanted the real-deal fronds when Palm Sunday came around.
From there, palms built up some serious nonsectarian steam. Hodel tells me that, in the late 1800s, developers used palm trees as a siren song for East Coasters, summoning them westward to seek out paradise. They planted Mexican fan palms around citrus orchards and manufactured postcards depicting California as healthy, tropical, and exotic.
After World War II, young veterans exiting the military came west for “their own piece of the pie,” which included a “postage-stamp-sized lot” with, of course, a palm planted out front, Hodel says.
“They are iconic,” he adds. “Rightly or wrongly, [palms] became associated with the upper echelons of the economic ladder.” A frond-crowned tree in your yard meant you’d made it.
Nowadays, those non-native palms are to southern California what pine trees are to Christmas. They’re culturally entrenched—which explains why governments will go to great lengths to protect them. The Encinitas City Council, for example, recently approved a $382,250, five-year plan to defend the Moonlight Beach heritage palm, which involves dousing it quarterly with insecticides, conducting regular inspections, and removing nearby infestations.
At this point, there is only preventative treatment—spraying and crossing one’s fingers—or doing nothing and just rolling the dice. Either way, the palm may die, leaving tree lovers not only bummed out but broke: A tree corpse can cost $6,000 (or more!) to remove.
It’s been tough for palm people in California. Austin Kolander, an arborist with Aguilar Plant Care and first responder on the weevil front, spends his days breaking the news to homeowners that, due to a weevil attack, there’s no hope for their beloved palms. “This woman today was so distraught,” he says. The dying palm had been planted 80 years before by her grandfather. It wasn’t just a tree to her—it was a tether to her familial history.
Luckily, a seasoned pro is on the case. Hoddle (with the help of his entomologist wife, Christina Hoddle) previously cracked the code on the Asian citrus psyllids’ decimation of California’s orange groves. He’s now working nonstop to find an answer to this weevil problem before the impending desert date palm blitz.
A predator is helpful to get an animal population into check, but the weevil doesn’t have one in California, so Hoddle began a search. In Brazil, he found a tachinid fly, which would have inspired the likes of Hannibal Lecter. It, like the weevil, deposits its eggs atop the palms, but then the freshly hatched maggots wiggle down and entomb themselves within the weevil’s cocoon. “They eat the larva alive,” Hoddle says.
Then, they pupate, using the emptied-out cocoon as a sleeping bag.
The issue is that the fly currently won’t reproduce in a lab setting. Even if Hoddle manages it, there’s still a long process involved in green-lighting the introduction of a new natural enemy.

But there is some hope: He’s also currently testing a method he calls “attract and kill” in a 10-square-mile area that includes Rancho Santa Fe and Fairbanks Ranch. The process involves a hanging contraption that lures the weevils using their own pheromones—it’s like backstabbing them with their own horniness.
He points to a tiny vessel. “This is weevil pheromone aggregate.”
“What does it smell like?” I ask.
“It smells like weevil pheromone aggregate,” he says, laughing.
I bring my nose in close. Hints of musk, rust, and maybe old BandAid. Not great, but if it was a candle called Weevil Nookie, someone out there would pay 40 bucks for it.
Once the weevil lands on the trap, the insect is dosed with a puddle of potent poison. “Instead of hundreds of gallons of insecticide,” Hoddle explains, “we’d just have to put out a couple of ounces over vast areas.”
It’s still not foolproof. If it works—and, based on the numbers of weevils that have fallen for the traps so far, it does look great—and is deployed widely, the remaining Canary Island date palms will likely only have a 70 percent survival rate. But that’s far better than the 70 percent death rate so far.
The public can help the fight, as well, by reporting any symptomatic palms one observes to the University of California, Riverside’s Center for Invasive Species Research.
As we wrap up our tour of destruction, Hoddle spots a massive palm he’s been keeping an eye on for the past six years. It’s dead, with telltale signs of weevil activity. He can’t completely blame the weevils, though, he says.
Ten new insects are established in California each year, three of which become a problem agriculturally or ecologically. “Don’t blast through signs at the airport asking you to declare produce when your bags are full of mangos,” he pleads. The repercussions can be enormous: increased taxes to pay for eradication programs; higher prices for produce; more insecticides in our water, land, and bodies.
“Bugs don’t stay in your own backyard,” he says. “They spread, and then we all end up paying the price for it.”
Mara Altman is the author of two nonfiction books, Thanks for Coming and Gross Anatomy: Dispatches from the Front (and Back), which was a semi-finalist for the Thurber Prize for American Humor. Altman also wrote eight best-selling Kindle Singles and has written for publications such as The New York Times and New York Magazine. Earlier in her career, she was a staff writer for The Village Voice and daily newspapers in India and Thailand. She lives in North Park with her husband and twins.
Help us pick the city's top places to dine and be entered to win a $200 gift card to Catamaran Hotel Resort and Spa
Restaurants are the social lifeblood of a city. They offer a place to commune with friends and strangers alike, build relationships, explore new cultures through flavors, and offer a welcome escape from the reality of our own kitchens. All under the guise of getting something to eat.
With all restaurants do to nourish us, we invite you to give back to them by voting for your Reader’s Choice favorites in several categories.
Vote in as many categories as you like, but you can only cast one vote per category. If the altruistic love of your favorite spot isn’t enough, your vote will enter you to win a $200 gift card to the Catamaran Hotel Resort and Spa.
Winning restaurants earn bragging rights for the entire calendar year—and your continued love and support. So, go on. It’s up to you to decide on our city’s next culinary icon.
In a world overflowing with shortcuts, marketing fluff, and “good enough,” there are still companies that choose a different answer. And in San Diego, there are plenty of them.
In a world overflowing with shortcuts, marketing fluff, and “good enough,” there are still companies that choose a different answer.
Integrity guides how they show up every day. They make hard decisions, hold themselves accountable, and build trust the old-fashioned way, one action at a time. At the Better Business Bureau, we call these businesses Torch Heroes: leaders who demonstrate that ethical leadership strengthens businesses and drives long-term success.
And in San Diego, there are plenty of them.
Take House Collective Marketing Solutions, a Carlsbad-based digital agency that won the 2025 Torch Award for Ethics for its people-first approach to marketing. Instead of pushing flashy campaigns, the team often takes a step back to make sure clients’ foundations are strong before going big. Their philosophy? Truth over transaction builds partnerships that last.
Or look at Young Black & N’ Business, where integrity shows up through community action. When a local school lost art funding, founder Roosevelt Williams III and his team stepped in with workshops, mentorship, and hands-on support to help restore creative opportunity. That kind of engagement reflects ethical leadership rooted in real impact.
And in Vista, Lotus Sustainables carried its commitment to ethics all the way to the product line. After discovering defects in a shipment of eco-friendly products, the company issued full refunds and redesigned its offerings at its own expense, a choice that shaped its identity and reinforced to customers that ethics guide every decision.
In North County, Greenway Landscape Design & Build brings integrity into everyday service. When a client’s glass was damaged, likely not by their crew, owner Scott Lawn chose responsibility over blame and covered the repair personally. For Greenway, doing the right thing serves as a north star, guiding every interaction through transparent pricing, accountable partnerships, proactive communication, and follow-through long after the job is done.
Other honorees include At Your Home Familycare, whose leadership turned down a lucrative state contract during the pandemic to protect vulnerable clients and staff, and Bill Howe Family of Companies, where hiring practices, training, and service centers around shared values, every day, on every call.
What connects these diverse businesses, from marketing to nonprofit support to home services, isn’t size, industry, or revenue. It’s something deeper: a commitment to trust as a business strategy.
In San Diego’s competitive marketplace, that trust gives companies an edge. Clients invest in relationships. They refer friends. They stay loyal when others fade.
As one Torch Award winner puts it, integrity isn’t a section in the employee handbook. It’s the operating system of the company, the invisible code that determines every choice, every day.
And that’s exactly the point of the BBB Torch Awards for Ethics: to spotlight companies that dispel the myth that ethics and success are at odds. These businesses show that when leaders choose honesty, fairness, and accountability, especially when it’s hard, they build brands that matter.
At BBB, we see nominations come in from clients, employees, and business partners who have witnessed ethical leadership up close. These submissions aren’t polished promotions. They’re stories of moments when a company chose people over profit, clarity over confusion, and trust over convenience.
The nomination window for the 2026 Torch Awards for Ethics is open through March 31, 2026, and there are more Torch Heroes waiting to be recognized.
Who comes to mind in San Diego’s business community?
And yes, businesses can nominate themselves. We encourage it. If you’ve built your business on principles rather than buzzwords, we want to hear your story.
Because in a world full of noise, integrity still deserves the spotlight, and San Diego is full of stories worth telling. Nominate your hero now.