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Drop off the kids for a week of fun—from rock-climbing to secret agent missions
Most date ranges given are for weeklong camps. Contact the organization for details.
In addition to top-rope climbing and bouldering, activities at this four–day camp include yoga, a scavenger hunt, knot tying, and arts and crafts. Kids bring their own lunch, but snacks like Clif Bar Zbars are provided.
Ages 7–14; 9 a.m.–3 p.m.; $335; reservation required
Camp CaHiTo spring and summer day camps offer traditional group activities that alternate daily, including archery, arts and crafts, hiking, sports, and swimming.
Ages 5–13; $150–$225; 3101 Balboa Drive, Balboa Park
At Junior Golf Camp, kids learn putting, chipping, and play over four consecutive mornings on the course, but also have time to let loose on an obstacle course and in the pool.
Ages 6–14; $125; July 24–27 and August 14–17; 9200 Inwood Drive, Santee
Campers hone their circus performance skills, such as aerial silks, clowning, juggling, partner acrobatics, tightwire, trapeze, and tumbling.
Ages 5–16; $325; Weekly June 26–August 25; San Diego Circus Center, 2050 Hancock Street, Mission Hills
During this weeklong camp, animal lovers meet and learn about a variety of creatures, including dogs, alpacas, turtles, and more.
Ages 4–12; General camp hours of 9 a.m. to 3 p.m. apply to kids in Kindergarten to 6th grade, with extended hours available for a nominal fee. (Preschool hours are 9 a.m. to 1 p.m., no extended hours available.)
Learn sailing and safety basics aboard a Capri 22. In addition to instruction, sailors enjoy games and a “friendly race around the bay.”
Ages 7–16; June 19–23; 2040 Harbor Island Drive
Is your kid the next Jason Day or Lexi Thompson? Led by PGA Class A6 instructor Heidi Richardson, kids get video swing analysis and skill challenges, learn rules and etiquette, play games, and more.
Ages 6–16; $225 and up; 1275 Quail Gardens Drive, Encinitas
Mad Science offers camp programs on anatomy, astronomy, chemistry, engineering, robots, and the wilderness at 25 locations in San Diego County.
Ages 4–12; price varies by location; June 5–August 25
It’s a museum takeover with creative games, hands-on art activities, open play in the galleries, and playtime in the park.
Ages 4–12; $56–$63 daily, $150–$315 weekly; April 10–April 14 and June 12–August 25; 200 West Island Avenue, Marina District
For two, three, or five days a week, campers participate in time-honored traditions such as group hikes, nature-based crafts, scavenger hunts, skits, songs, and water games.
Canyonside Community Park, Rancho Peñasquitos (grades 1–9) and North City Presbyterian Church in Poway (ages 3–5); $195–$1,430; June 19–August 18
Learn photography and filmmaking during one-week camps specializing in digital media. Special focuses range from street-style journalism to stop-motion animation.
Grades 3–12; $140 and up; June 23–August 25; 2750 Historic Decatur Road, Liberty Station
For campers who love the stage, San Diego Junior Theatre teaches four lessons daily covering acting, dance and movement, voice, and a specialty course.
Grades K–6; $150–$205; March 27–April 14; 1650 El Prado, Balboa Park
Campers get a behind-the-scenes look at the theme park with animal shows, rides, trips to animal habitats and aquariums, boogie boarding, and kayaking.
Grades K–12; $170–$310 daily, $750–$1,050; June 18–August 18; 500 SeaWorld Drive, Mission Bay
Send your little sleuth on a secret mission with fellow junior spies at this unique summer camp that embraces kids’ inquisitive nature and inclination for adventure. Launching its San Diego location this summer, the San Francisco–based camp features action-packed weekly activities like gadget design, self-defense and awareness, walkie-talkie training and call signs, and spy escape tactics.
Ages 7–11, 1721 Hornblend Street, Pacific Beach
Kids can spend summer on Mission Bay, studying marine science or learning how to kayak, sail, surf, wakeboard, water-ski, or windsurf. A swim test is required on the first day.
Ages 6–17; $255 and up; June 12–August 25; Mission Bay Aquatic Center, 1001 Santa Clara Place, Mission Bay
Kids can learn about conservation, science, and wildlife through animal encounters, arts and crafts, games, outdoor and career exploration, and role-play.
Ages 4–18; $47–$260; The Living Coast Discovery Center, 1000 Gunpowder Point Drive, Chula Vista
This is just the ticket if you’ve got a little Spielberg or DuVernay in your midst. Campers learn tools of the filmmaking trade, such as storytelling, character design, and acting. The week ends with their film premiering on the big screen, in the Digital Gym theatre.
Ages 6–14; 8:30 a.m.–3 p.m.; $245, less for Digital Gym members
The Tony Award–winning La Jolla Playhouse offers a variety of youth acting programs that help build character on and offstage. Expert teachers help aspiring actors improve their techniques and gain confidence and social skills. There are three levels of classes for performers, plus a one-week theatre tech class for lighting, costumes, props, and scenic design.
Grades 3–12; June 19–July 21; prices vary; 2910 La Jolla Village Drive, La Jolla
For a walk on the wild side, campers can feed animals, learn about jobs at the zoo, study animal behaviors, explore animal habitats, and more. Offered at both the San Diego Zoo (2920 Zoo Drive, Balboa Park) and Safari Park (15500 San Pasqual Valley Road, Escondido).
Ages 4–17; $149–$274; June 19–August 25
19 Kids Camps in San Diego
Eighteen seconds, one unforgettable mistake, and a Fourth of July story that somehow gets better with age
There’s a famous video.
“This is insane!” the guy filming it seems to proclaim. “It’s the best fireworks show ever!” a companion confirms, inspiring a debate lasting over a decade.
All told, 7,000 fireworks exploded in the span of 25 seconds over San Diego Bay on July 4, 2012. A Michael Bay amount of unison. $125,000 worth of shells, cakes, Roman candles, and skyrockets had been placed on a barge—enough for 17 minutes of decorative sky flares—and…
Boom.
The sky looked like someone had set a giant Rorschach test on fire. Or as if whatever we all see in our Rorschachs—butterflies, clowns, tongue kissing, dads—was being electrocuted and lifted heavenward, amen. It was shocking how bright it was, how much it sizzled the local cosmos. Could’ve been one of those sci-fi films where a hole is ripped open between warring universes. But angstier, more metal—the work of some methy creator in a sleeveless concert tee.
The sound?
Lou Reed once released an entire album that contained 64 minutes of mindflaying guitar screeches and machine noises. No regular songs, just a fascinating amount of ear distress. His record label reps no doubt heard the melodic outro of their careers, but everyone else was in pain and stumped. That album still sounded better than the bay did that night. The bay sounded like a god who struggled with emotional regulation had blown his speakers and was working through the anger stage of AV grief.
In the left frame of the video, a middle-aged woman is attempting to drag her husband off by the hand. In no way does he want to go, possibly because he had missed the time Roseanne Barr sung the national anthem at a Padres game, simultaneously disemboweling and amusing America through the power of song. He would not willingly abandon an equally worthy San Diego trainwreck.
Another woman in the video appears to have just filled her beer, rushing to sit down for the show. She pauses mid-sit and returns to the full and upright position to properly bear witness. What was supposed to be prolonged entertainment has been so radically shortened that she will have to find another reason to drink. Lucky for her, drinking will be the only way to adequately process.
Locals remember the conspiracy theories. People wondered if the fuses had been tripped by a saboteur who was sympathetic to dogs, fish, or the growing suspicion that late-stage capitalism is a gorgeously branded but impossible dream sustained by remarkably efficient top-tier wealth retention and the soft compliance of fireworks-watchers who can no longer afford a house, a beer, or the personal impacts of human reproduction.
Speaking of being terrified of babies, babies were terrified. The children who witnessed it probably still can’t go near a candle store. But those kids will be tougher, perfectly scarred kids. They’ll write better songs.
That night helped us absolutely dominate the national news cycle. For a hot minute, we became America’s water-skiing squirrel. Now, years later, when you Google “fireworks gone wrong,” San Diego is always a top contender, along with that poor Nebraska family who nearly wiped out a couple generations in their front yard, their minivan somehow turning into a howitzer of recreational TNT.
There is still debate as to whether Big Bay Boom 2012 is the worst or greatest fireworks show of all time. But the advanced parts of civilization arrived at the truth as quickly as the women in the video did. It was undeniably amazing.
First of all, the point of Fourth of July fireworks isn’t “the intricate choreography of sky fire over a guaranteed amount of show time.” It’s about creating a vivid memory shared with some people you like, love, or would like to love.
BBB2012 used large-scale chemical fire to create the ultimate memory.
Sure, some people who iron their jeans subjected their family to a sermon about how San Diego managed to botch America’s birthday like a Disney princess-for-hire who smelled of quite a few Sauvignons.
The rest of us saw how perfectly it nailed the actual feeling of being an American. Because only a miniscule percentage of us bake postcard apple pies where every inch of crust is perfectly laminated like the wood in an Irish bar. Very few of us can paint on par with Picasso. The rest of us—despite truly believing in our America-activated abilities to achieve greatness in almost any field of our choosing—burn pies. We try to paint only to realize it looks like our fine motor skills have entered active death.
That’s why BBB2012 was the most perfectly American fireworks show ever: A wildly ambitious idea galvanized thousands upon thousands of people to both work on it and come to hold a beer and gawk at it, only to have it fail in the most glorious TMZ-level spectacle.
America isn’t about immaculate, storyless wins. It’s about how the framework of a country is solid enough that we can accidentally detonate our entire lives—a few times—and still probably be OK.
No one has America’d quite like San Diego did on that day. It was performance art. Lou Reed’s heart slow-clapped. Any brief municipal embarrassment quickly became a pride of our people. I can only hope the same for the Nebraskan yard family whose Dodge Aerostar became a hyperactive Death Star.
P.S. Local writer Maya Kroth compiled a quite great oral history of that night for Thrillist. The bottom lines for me were—it took nine months to prepare, no one was hurt, and even though the pyrotechnics company tried to zero out the bill, Big Bay Boom founder H. P. “Sandy” Purdon refused and paid them in full. This year will mark the 25th Anniversary of the yearly Big Bay Boom.
Troy Johnson is the magazine’s award-winning food writer and humorist, and a long-standing expert on Food Network. His work has been featured on NatGeo, Travel Channel, NPR, and in Food Matters, a textbook of the best American food writing.
From surprise revivals to changing dining habits, these are the shifts redefining the local culinary landscape
If absence makes hearts (and stomachs) grow fonder, then shuttered restaurants quickly become the hottest tickets in town—something a number of iconic institutions found out after taking very public hiatuses after historically long runs. For instance, following a lengthy (and extremely flip-floppy) closing process after 92 years in business, Las Cuatro Milpas reopened two blocks away in Mercado del Barrio. Similarly, Carlsbad butcher shop Tip Top Meats reopened in the same location (albeit a smaller space) after the death of founder Joachim “Big John” Haedrich in 2023. Finally, after a whopping decade out of business, Sami Ladeki and chef Alfie Szeprethy brought back Roppongi to its original Prospect Street space, where it was the talk of the town in the late ’90s. All came back under the same proprietors, so they weren’t third-party nostalgia-licensing deals. The algorithm may have ravaged our attention spans away from all but the newest and shiniest, but this proves there’s still hope for our collective prefrontal cortex.
Other local eateries honored their pasts by bringing in new perspectives. The Lion’s Share in Embarcadero, Milton’s Deli in Del Mar, Dudley’s Bakery in Santa Ysabel, and J-K’s Greek Cafe in La Mesa handed over the keys to new owners willing to take on a big task: maintain the soul of icons through particularly rough economic circumstances for restaurants, navigate big feelings from longtime regulars (who often don’t take kindly to change), and make some necessary changes to keep going for another few decades. Taking over a project in process can be a lot harder than starting from scratch. But building that feel-good nostalgia doesn’t happen overnight, so it sure helps to have a well-established playbook of success passed down from those who came before.

It wasn’t just restaurant groups from Los Angeles that decided to put down roots en masse, although San Diego saw plenty of LA transplants recently (Sugarfish, Mr. Charlie’s, For the Win, Katsuya Ko, Bacari). Global brands like Chef Fei, Zuma, and Pepper Lunch have locations of their own on the way, and upscale Canadian eatery Joey joined to the inescapable gravitational pull of Westfield UTC’s culinary cosmos for its first spot in America’s Finest City. Good to see the rest of the world is catching up with what we’ve been seeing the last few years—San Diego is a dining destination already on the rise.
Between the never-ending news cycle of doom and perimenopause brain fog, I’m at the stage in life where I’m more than happy to let someone else make a decision for me, especially when it comes to what’s for dinner. And based on the way a lot of menus look right now, I’m not alone. It seems like half the places I visit offer some version of a prix fixe, omakase, or tasting menu. Restaurants are embracing the curated experience to solve the problem of affordability (a fixed menu reduces food and labor costs, guarantees an acceptable check average, etc.) and critical thinking in one fell swoop. Omakase (meaning “I leave it up to you”) is far from a new concept in high-end Japanese sushi culture, but now that it’s popping up everywhere from coffee experiences to grab-and-go sushi and sandwiches, it’s gone from somewhat niche to nearly omnipresent.

The world got an up-close look at San Diego’s coffee industry when we hosted the premier specialty coffee expo World of Coffee for the first time this April. San Diego’s long and rich coffee history stretches back to the late 19th century. Things percolated fairly quietly for around a century before really picking up steam. Today, there are nearly 200 specialty roasters and cafes across the county, with many earning national accolades like the Good Food Award (Steady State Roasting, 2020; Bird Rock Coffee Roasters, 2023, 2021, 2019, 2017, 2016), Roaster of the Year by Roast Magazine (Mostra Coffee, 2020; Bird Rock Coffee Roasters, 2012), and the Specialty Coffee Association Coffee Design Award for packaging (Rikka Fika, 2026). Now that we’ve moved past the comically insufferable coffee snob era of the early 2000s, even java newbies can feel comfortable walking into pretty much any coffee shop in San Diego, asking questions, trying a few things, and feeling confident they’re going to get great service and a great beverage.
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.
Jeff Russell traded dreams of SNL for bee rescues, building a social media following of more than 4 million people along the way
The Groundlings improv theater has churned out world-famous comedic talents like Will Ferrell and Maya Rudolph. And in San Diego, a former Groundling has used that training to campaign for a higher power. The power to protect bees.
“The goal was to try and get on SNL,” says Jeff Russell of his time in the improv troupe. “[But now], I have an audience, and I get to crack jokes and be silly and entertain and educate.”
That audience? The over 4 million people who follow Mr. and Mrs. Bee Rescue in the socialmediaverse. Jeff and his wife, Julie, operate the business, which means they remove unwelcome bees without harming them and rehome them to apiaries throughout the county. Their social media is a hub of videos of Jeff peeling open car trunks, flooring, barbecues—any cozy spot for a bee to set up shop—and using smoke to coax them out of the hive (sometimes working sans gloves or protective gear).
Bees in a hive will follow their queen, so finding and moving her helps speed along the relocation process. It’s “a really hard game of Where’s Waldo,” Julie says. But there’s a secret to it: “If the bees start running completely in some random opposite direction in a hurry, then we know that the queen is probably that direction,” says Jeff. Their social videos document this process in a way that turns a reasonable nightmare (being swarmed by bees) into a form of entertainment and advocacy. The Russells spread the apian gospel, sharing why relocating bees is the only option to consider.
Since the 1960s, bee populations across the US have shrunk drastically for a slew of reasons—habitat loss (postwar industrialization led to fewer farms and crops), climate change (petulant temps affect blooming schedules), and pesticides (when used improperly, they can be toxic for bees).
Bees are also responsible for up to 75 percent of all flowering plants; 35 percent of food crops rely on animal pollinators to reproduce. So, basically, we’d be living in a flowerless world fueled by a diet of wind-pollinated oats and Red Dye 40 without them.
Jeff and Julie met on Tinder in 2016. “It would have been more appropriate if we met on Bumble,” Julie says. A photographer and graphic designer, she had no experience in a swarm of stingers before 2018. When Jeff broke his back surfing, she had no choice but to step in. Later, when she was laid off from her job in 2020, she focused on growing Mr. and Mrs. Bee Removal’s social media accounts. That’s when their business took off. These videos work. People are learning.
“Quite a lot of my customers were [initially] like, ‘Why don’t we just kill?’” Jeff says. “Now, the vast majority are like, ‘You take them alive, don’t you?’”
Emma Veidt is an editor at San Diego Magazine. She earned her bachelor's and master's degrees from the Missouri School of Journalism. She loves running, hiking, and rock climbing, but really, she mostly loves encounters with the street cats around North Park.
Stake Chophouse & Bar brings contemporary classics and old-school service to the heart of Coronado
Stake Chophouse & Bar isn’t your average steakhouse. Blue Bridge Hospitality’s Coronado outpost is a modern interpretation of a big-city steakhouse nestled in the heart of the small coastal community. The team at Stake has reimagined the whole steakhouse experience. By prioritizing a seasonal farm-to-table sourcing philosophy, a personalized guest experience, and unique service touches, like a formal steak presentation and a bespoke knife selection process, Stake distinguishes itself in a sea of steakhouses.
Exceptional steaks, including Wagyu from Japan, Australia, and the U.S., and fresh seafood flown in daily form the core of Stake’s culinary identity. The menu features a five-course omakase-style steak experience highlighting house favorites, plus an array of cuts, and classic steakhouse staples—think a wedge salad, baked potato, or pasta carbonara—refined for a contemporary palate without losing their traditional appeal. Stake focuses on seasonal sourcing from the region’s best family farms and specialty purveyors, and incorporates intentionally unexpected touches to create something truly unique.
“I challenge our chefs and myself to take it a step further in sourcing,” says Chef Ronnie Schwandt. “It’s important to us to highlight different farms, unique one-off farms—whether it’s cattle, strawberries, a local fisherman or from anywhere in the United States, we’re always trying to find that niche.”
Beyond the menu, Stake emphasizes outstanding service, says Vinny Spatafore, Director of Hospitality Operations. Staff maintains detailed notes, allowing them to remember guests by name, recall previous orders such as a favorite martini (also memorable for the customer since it’s served in an extra tall, distinctly-shaped glass), and celebrate special occasions like birthdays and anniversaries.
“When you have those points of topic that you remember about a guest, they appreciate that,” he says. “Our servers are really good with that—we have a couple servers who have been here since the beginning and they’ll remember somebody from years ago, their name, their kids’ names, where they live. I’m really thankful to have a great front of house staff.”
Award-winning wines, rare whiskeys, special events, and a complementary black car service that provides transportation for guests throughout Coronado add to Stake’s appeal.
Schwandt stresses that Stake offers more than a meal; they aim to give patrons something unforgettable.
“It starts when you walk up the stairs and are greeted by the hostess—that sets the tone for the night. Then you’re greeted by a server, who may know you by name, and can guide you through the menu and curate as they get to know you,” says Schwandt. “Most people leave kind of blown away; they leave feeling like they just had an experience. That’s the goal, right? Whether you’re serving smash burgers or high-end steak, you want somebody to leave thinking, Wow, that was awesome.”
Jordan Glazier's Wildfire Systems is reinventing loyalty rewards for some of the world's biggest brands
You visit your favorite ancient Egyptian merchant, and as you’re buying some papyrus to hieroglyph your way to the 3000 B.C. version of a Pulitzer, he slips you a special token as a thank you for being so loyal. It’s the least he can do for keeping him in business, and you can use that reward to barter for anything you want—like beer.
A few thousand years later, those tokens would evolve to copper coins that American retailers handed out so you could spend. The Sperry & Hutchinson company introduced its groundbreaking “Green Stamps” program in the late 1800s. Today, your sandwich shop’s loyalty card is one hole punch away from giving you a free sub. And you’ve surely justified some extravagant purchases in the name of airline miles.
Point is: Free stuff has always been a compelling way to earn human loyalty. And with his Solana Beach–based company Wildfire Systems, Jordan Glazier has built one of the city’s biggest tech companies by modernizing that simple, ancient idea.
“Being able to save money when you shop is nice to have when times are good,” Glazier says. “When you have periods of inflation or financial stress, that nice-to-have becomes a must-have.”
He launched Wildfire in 2017. It’s essentially a white-label platform that builds and operates programs for enterprise brands across most industries—from banking (Visa, Citi) to travel (TravelArrow) to fintech (Sezzle, Acorns), to rewards (Shop Your Way, KashKick), you name it. Customers of, say, RBC (also a client), can install a browser extension or enable a feature on a mobile app that activates savings and cashback offers. Wildfire has now spent three straight years on Inc. 5000’s list of the fastest-growing private companies.
Glazier’s no stranger to scaling new ideas. As one of the early executives at eBay, he built and ran the consumer electronics, computer, and industrial equipment verticals. Later he turned San Diego tech company Eventful into the world’s largest online calendar and events discovery platform (CBS acquired it in 2014).
“Part of being an entrepreneur is building things and solving for things that haven’t been solved before,” he says.
It’s a lesson he learned early on. His grandparents started a women’s clothing manufacturing company in Chicago in the 1910s, and it remained a family business for over seven decades. Preteen Glazier would punch in as a stock boy and sit with the sales team making phone calls.
“That was my very first paycheck,” he says with a smile.
Now he and his own team of 70 have grown Wildfire’s revenue 721 percent over the past three years.
“I want to make sure we are building a business that’s built to last,” he says. “We are eight years in, and I feel like we’re just getting started.”
Glazier named the company because of how people recommend products and services to each other. Great shirt, where’d you get it? Anyone know of a good sushi spot? “Word of mouth,” he says, “spreads like wildfire.”
San Diego’s tech industry seems to come and go. There were predictions that the post-pandemic, remote work world would see all luminous brains migrating south to our famous clime, but that has been only partially the case. As tides turn, big names like Glazier’s hold anchor.
“San Diego is such a great place to live and to build a business,” he says. “I always feel sorry for people who don’t live here.”
Matt Eisenberg is an award-winning writer and photographer based in San Diego. A former ESPN editor, his work has also been published by CNN, Bleacher Report and the New York Daily News.
We ask the city's best food photographers to choose their favorite pics and share their secrets to capturing a drool-worthy pic
Food is a notorious diva to photograph. The wrong lighting can make José Andrés’ paella look like a jaundiced grain bowl. You could be staring at the best sandwich of your life, but shoot it from above and—hey, congrats on that abandoned piece of lettuce bread. A cottage meme industry has been built around the hilariously bad photos on review sites that make Michelin-star food look like Michelin tires.
Especially in a visual modern media world, food culture depends on great photographers capturing the painstaking work in equally deserving ways. We asked four of San Diego’s top food photographers for their favorite shot from another year of documenting what we eat.

Getting this kind of shot takes a bit of yoga. Asana yourself into the corner, hold your breath, pray that a chef on the move doesn’t back into your light stand.
“You’re stepping into someone’s workspace during their busiest moments, so it’s a balance of being present to get the shot and being invisible to not slow anything down,” Kimberly Motos says.
The subject here is the Birdman sandwich from Chick & Hawk—hot fried chicken thigh, tangy slaw, kimchi comeback sauce, sweet and spicy pickles, potato brioche bun—getting a hearty dousing of its difference-maker seasoning. Motos captures the parts of the process that diners don’t usually see: the chaos behind something that looks so simple.

“I love this image because it feels like a moment you want to step into,” says Lucianna McIntosh. A warm, sunny day at The Fishery in PB with oysters, caviar, and martinis. Yes, please.
The little details—the glass sweating a little, the direct afternoon light creating stark shadows, the oyster glistening on the tray—are the main characters. Instead of trying to overly control the setup, McIntosh “followed the light and lines that draw you in more,” she says. “This was one of those moments where everything lined up on its own for a second. I love it when the shadows end up being just as important as the food itself.”

La Jolla native Eric Wolfinger—who won a James Beard Award for Tartine Bread, one of the most stunning bread books of all time—says he doesn’t have a signature style. His style is a conduit.
“I see my job is to translate the chef’s point of view into something you can feel,” he says.
For this shot, Fleurette chef Travis Swikard had one directive: cuisine du soleil (“cuisine of the sun”). With a spread of leeks vinaigrette, herb-roasted golden chicken, and beets, Wolfinger wanted to create a scene that felt straight out of the French Riviera, relaying the light, bright style of Swikard’s new spot.
Some bonus additions here: Extra lights—to add lots of warmth—and a clipping from an olive tree.

Timing and light are everything in food photography. In Lucien—La Jolla’s tasting-menu-only restaurant with moody ambiance—a single strobe flash creates the ideal spotlight.
Dee Sandoval says she uses the “natural, just-plated energy” of the dish to “create a portrait of moment and craft.” That’s why this Mostra Ghost Bear espresso ice cream—with San José dark chocolate mousse, soy-miso caramel, and koji shoyu chocolate sauce—looks like it might dissolve halfway to your mouth.
Emma Veidt is an editor at San Diego Magazine. She earned her bachelor's and master's degrees from the Missouri School of Journalism. She loves running, hiking, and rock climbing, but really, she mostly loves encounters with the street cats around North Park.
SeaWorld dazzles with a drone show, big-name entertainers, new animal adventures and more
Nights are heating up at SeaWorld San Diego. The quintessential summertime staple on Mission Bay is transforming into a destination for unforgettable day-to-night adventures, bringing back some of its most popular Summer Nights programming and introducing exciting new experiences sure to delight both kids and adults alike.

The 2026 Summer Day to Night at SeaWorld San Diego is the park’s most ambitious season yet. SeaWorld has planned a highly anticipated entertainment lineup that features nine weeks of throwback concerts featuring R&B and hip‑hop favorites from the ‘90s and early 2000s, including Jordin Sparks, Too $hort and Warren G, Ashanti, and an array of boy band heartthrobs performing together as part of the Pop 2000 Tour.
New this season is perhaps the park’s most visible update: a nightly drone show, Ocean of Dreams, which illuminates the sky with hundreds of synchronized sparklers. Drones form sea otters, sharks, dolphins, and a majestic orca that tell a breathtaking 12-minute story of marine life and underwater ecosystems. The show culminates with a spectacular electric neon finale celebrating hope, wonder, and ocean stewardship.
Nighttime visitors are also in store for animal adventures that fuse education with high-energy fun and the dreamy ambiance of nighttime. The park has launched two all-new animal presentations: Shamu’s Celebration: Light Up the Night and Dolphins: Touch the Sky. Shamu’s Celebration: Light Up the Night features vibrant lighting, music, and dynamic choreography that celebrates the power and beauty of killer whales. Dolphins: Touch the Sky showcases playful bottlenose dolphins and the special connection between humans and the natural world. And back by popular demand is fan-favorite Sea Lions Tonite. See the charming pinnipeds splash, play, and parody pop culture in this refreshed crowd-pleaser.

More must-sees: a newly reimagined Shark Encounter, one of the country’s more immersive exhibits highlighting 11 different species up close, SeaWorld’s beloved BMX Blast! stunt show, and high-seas escapade, Pirates Ahoy! The Battle for Mermaid Cove. And don’t miss the park’s all-new Deep Sea Disco, which encourages guests to dance the night away under the glow of the SkyTower, and vibrant closing time laser light display Laser Reef Summer Spectacular.
Amp up the nighttime vibe with local craft beers, curated cocktails, and nostalgic theme park treats with $1 beer all summer long. SeaWorld is the place for day to night summer fun. When the sun goes down, SeaWorld lights up, and inspires guests of all ages to embrace their inner whimsy and see why generations of San Diegans head to SeaWorld to make memories they’ll never forget.