Culture Wars

THE FROZEN-YOGURT BIZ is in ferment, spreading a chill through the Gaslamp Quarter and East Village. Frosting the ambitions of the would-be svelte, it lately has been snowing upscale yogurt emporia and sleeting gelateria——as if things weren’t bad enough years ago, when the Ghirardelli ice cream shop arrived on Fifth Avenue and buffered sundae divers from their skinny jeans. Now, icy tentacles of temptation stretch from a remodeled doughnut shop at Fourth and G to fancy midrises near Petco Park.

Why have Yolicious, Mondo Gelato, Fruberry, Yogotango and Gelateria Frizzante rolled in like snowballs from dieters’ hell? For the same reason prestige chains like Morton’s of Chicago, The Oceanaire Seafood Room and Donovan’s chose the area: The bucks stop here. More shops may be on the way. In 2007, Los Angeles– based Pinkberry posted signs at the Hard Rock Hotel heralding “frozen yogurt for caviar tastes and Cavalli waistlines,” but as of this writing, it’s been all talk and no candy sprinkles. At both yogurt and gelato parlors, the optional toppers are beautiful and bizarre. Find fresh berries, luscious diced fruit and Cap’n Crunch and Fruity Pebbles at Yolicious (Market at 10th), Yogotango (Fourth and G) and Fruberry, a pretty place on Fifth below Broad - way that sells green-apple yogurt and frozen cheesecake. Toppings also abound at Gelateria Frizzante (435 Island Avenue), where crimson blood-orange sorbetto competes with such colorful, low-fat gelati as fresh strawberry, caramel-praline and pistachio.

After an afternoon spent tracking gummi bears and mini-marshmallows through the semifreddo heart of San Diego, an investigator rewarded himself at Mondo Gelato, in the Padres Parkade at 10th and J. Offering leather sofas, Thursday-evening musicales and soybased treats for the dairy-averse, Mondo Gelato confects such creamy, dreamy gelati as coconut-chocolate and hazelnut-rum, flavors that may be frozen forever in memory.

CLAIMING CALCULATIONS as painstaking as an astrophysicist’s (well, they consulted their purveyors and did a lot of multiplications), Phil’s BBQ announces that in its first 10 years, it has slathered 1 million pints of barbecue sauce over whoknows- how-many pounds of ribs, brisket, chicken and pork. This much sauce would stain enough T-shirts to stretch to the moon lots and lots of times (do your own math). Proprietor Phil Pace does San Diego proud with his outstanding establishment, in front of which hungry crowds often are out standing . . . Jeff Rossman hasn’t served a million pounds of anything just yet, but he’s trying. Summer marks the return of Thursday-evening BBQ ’n’ Blues dinners at Terra in Hillcrest’s Uptown District. Revolving menus sometimes feature St. Louis– style ribs and citrus-glazed chicken, succulently accompanied by musicians such as Robin Henkel and Byron Hudson . . . That wild fiend of the chocolate trade, Will Gustwiller, cooks up devilish creations at Eclipse Chocolates in North Park, where monthly, reservations-required dinners (and occasional brunches) sell out pronto. A recent brunch offered white chocolate–citrus sparklers; quail eggs Benedict with chile burnt-caramel hollandaise sauce; cocoanib cornbread with red-eye gravy; and for carnivores, chocolate-rubbed bacon . . . “Where should I hold the toast?” The new - est menu at The Shores in La Jolla lists Judge Harelson’s Tuna Salad Sandwich, served on whole-wheat bread (the original design specified brioche) at the request of retired Superior Court Judge Gilbert Harelson. Dressed up with Bibb lettuce, apples and walnuts, it sounds like a fishy version of Waldorf salad.

YOU NEED TO BE AS TOUGH as Roy Rogers to go through the agonies of opening a restaurant, and after 13 months of toughing out delays, Cowboy Star partners John Weber and Victor Jimenez found a way to fight back: They stopped shaving. Hirsute and happy after a couple of weeks, the two eagerly awaited the greeting of guests in mid-May at 640 10th Avenue, site of their Hollywood cowboy-theme steakhouse and butcher shop. “It’s been a constant challenge, but if it weren’t a challenge, everyone would open a restaurant,” says Weber, the cowpoke at the host’s desk; Jimenez rustles up the grub.

SIDE DISH: “Top of the Morning” on Top of the World

KEEP YOUR SUNNY SIDE UP and your eggs over easy on Saturdays and Sundays at Eden, the plush rooftop bar, club and brunchery at Ivy Hotel. The hotel calls the meal (served from 7 a.m. until 2 p.m.) breakfast, but since the bar is open (and the mimosas sparkle), we’ll call it brunch. From seven stories up, the wide-ranging view of downtown is surprisingly intimate, and it works with the glam crowd, dressy table settings and thoughtful service to create a mood of considerable luxury. Bottle-serv ice bloody Mary set-ups are available for the “we’ve still got money to burn” types who cling to the Ivy, but the unexpectedly affordable menu emphasizes basics like toasted bagels with smoked salmon ($10), buttermilk biscuits with poached eggs and sausage gravy ($9) and Irish oatmeal with juicy berries or cara melized bananas (request both). The kitchen bakes its amazing Dan ish pastries, muffins and croissants for room service, but ask and you shall receive. More good food: yolk-spurting eggs Benedict with asparagus and golden home fries ($13); filet mignon with eggs, sauce Béarnaise and potatoes ($17) and richly stuffed French toast with spiced apple syrup and crystallized ginger ($11).

Do you like what you read? Subscribe to San Diego Magazine »