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Entrepreneurs and company rock stars divulge their secrets for success
8 San Diego Brands Explain How They Made It to the Top
Joe Kudla
Athleisure for men: Joe Kudla went where no man has gone before when he founded Vuori in 2015.
Ten years ago, the former CPA and business owner began practicing yoga as a way to work through pain he was experiencing from having played sports in high school, as well as lacrosse at USD. It was then that the sometime apparel investor began researching the world of yoga. “As a surfer, I knew there were 4 million people that surfed in the US and there are hundreds of brands competing for that surfer,” he says. “But there were 30 million practicing yoga. The market was like eight times bigger than surfing and men were 30 percent of it—and the fastest-growing demographic. That was the a-ha moment. ‘Why is there nobody doing anything cool for guys in this premium activewear space?’”
He launched Vuori, pronounced “vee-OR-ee,” from the Finnish word for “mountain.” Kudla is not Finnish but loved the name and the meaning.
Vuori’s line of jogger pants, board shorts, and hoodies favors a neutral color palette and clean design aesthetic. Many of its fabrics are proprietary, including a lot of full dull yarns with a brushed hand to make them extra soft. Notably absent are the primary colors, logos, and team sports aesthetic typical to the gear Kudla says he grew up with.
But most people, including wholesalers, didn’t get Vuori when it first launched. “The wholesale accounts wouldn’t talk to us. They were confused as to what we were trying to accomplish.” Consistently they were told they needed to address the female consumer walking in wearing Lululemon. At the time, Lululemon sold menswear, but in their stores, Kudla felt like he was shopping for his wife. “If the wholesalers were thinking about activewear at all, they were thinking about women. Men’s just wasn’t a category that really existed at wholesale. So we had to build the distribution ourselves.”
They started out selling directly online. Later they opened a space in Encinitas for free yoga, boot camps, art shows, and community events, which they eventually turned into a permanent retail store in March 2016.
Vuori has since launched a women’s collection and, in addition to being sold in retailers like REI, CorePower Yoga, and Sun Diego, they have five stores in tony California districts—the Encinitas flagship, the marina in San Francisco, Manhattan Beach, Fashion Island in Newport Beach, and, as of November 2019, Del Mar Highlands Town Center—right next to Jimbo’s and below five planned fitness concepts. Kudla admits “the rent can be scary,” but he leverages his e-commerce data, which illustrates where his customers live and shop, to make informed decisions. They’re looking to open four more retail stores this year in places like Scottsdale and Denver.
Vuori had long been profitable enough to expand without actively seeking funding. But in August, Norwest Venture Partners presented Kudla with an opportunity. They put $45 million in minority investment on the table, allowing him to maintain control of the business, enjoy a long-term investment horizon, and benefit from a network of pros who could guide him. He says it checked off all the boxes. “It wasn’t a bad time to do it, but it definitely was not in our strategic road map to raise money in 2019.” Now they can return money to early investors and, as he puts it, save for a rainy day.
And rain is something that Seattle-born Kudla knows something about. It rained every day for six months his senior year of high school, so he decided not to attend the University of Washington. Instead he came to San Diego and hit the ground running. —Erin Meanley Glenny
Cassandra Curtis and Ari Raz
Sydney Prather
“Imagine throwing a dart at a dartboard and it hits the perfect person you were supposed to meet at the time,” says Ari Raz, cofounder of baby food company Once Upon a Farm.
He’s describing how he met Cassandra Curtis, who created Mother’s Garden, the company’s predecessor, in 2013. But he might as well be talking about Once Upon a Farm’s entire trajectory, which has involved one fateful connection after another.
First there was Curtis. Seven years ago, she was a working mom in University City who wanted her daughter to have the freshest, healthiest food possible, but didn’t have the time to make it. Curtis knew someone in high-pressure pasteurization, which destroys bacteria in food without heating it, and she applied it to recipes that she sold in local farmers’ markets and stores.
Meanwhile, Raz was running a baby food delivery company in Washington, DC, and was looking for a technology that would scale the business. He heard about Curtis through a friend of a friend; he reached out—several times—and in 2016 the pair relaunched her brand as Once Upon a Farm.
They set their sights on grocery stores, a challenge because all the other baby food on the market was shelf stable, and theirs had to be refrigerated. They brought on an advisor, Greg Fleishman, who had experience with Kashi, Bear Naked, Coca-Cola, and other big brands. Fleishman in turn introduced them to John Foraker, the CEO who had grown Annie’s from a small mac-and-cheese maker into a $100 million business; he became one of their first investors and an informal advisor.
By 2017, Once Upon a Farm was small but succeeding. Curtis and Raz had nearly $1 million in sales. That June, a call from Fleishman changed everything. For several years, A-list actress Jennifer Garner had been looking for a business to get involved with; as a longtime advocate for kids, she thought she could do even more good through the right company. Fleishman, who knew Garner’s manager, told her about Once Upon a Farm. Soon Curtis and Raz were driving up to LA for a meeting.
“It’s crazy to think about today,” Raz says. “What are the chances someone that famous hears about a company this small?”
When Garner learned that Foraker was involved, she wanted to meet him. For three hours they talked about how businesses could be a force for good, and by the end of the meeting, they had both decided to join Once Upon a Farm as cofounders, with Foraker as CEO.
8 San Diego Brands Explain How They Made It to the Top
“There’s definitely been adjustments,” Curtis says. It was hard to relinquish control of the business, but doing so let Raz and Curtis focus on the things they really enjoy. Curtis develops products and makes sure they contain the best-quality ingredients; Raz is working on international expansion. He also oversees the company’s organic farm in Oklahoma—the farm where Garner’s mother grew up (now run by her aunt and uncle).
In the past two years, Once Upon a Farm has expanded from 300 to 9,000 retailers across North America. The company is tight-lipped about sales, but it’s safe to assume that they’ve grown far beyond $1 million. And though these days it’s often described as “Jennifer Garner’s baby food company,” the original founders don’t mind.
“To turn this concept into the vision we held for it—to provide as many children as possible with nutritious food,” Curtis says, “this was the way to do it.” —Sara Clemence
J. Dean Loring grew up in the meat business—he refers to himself as an “SOB,” son of a butcher—and he was running his own burger joint in his 20s (Stars Hamburgers in Humboldt County, with two locations still operating). But it would take more than those qualifications to open a totally new burger chain in San Diego, on the brink of the recession, in a relatively saturated market, with some stiff competition.
Loring’s bright idea? Open a fast-casual (aka counter-service) restaurant where full-service, white tablecloth restaurants are king: La Jolla.
“Fast-casual concepts were in their infancy during the recession, and real estate was a lot cheaper,” he says. “We figured, why not? It’s easier to exceed the guest’s expectations in a limited service environment when expectations are lower. It allows us to focus on food and making it better every day. That was our logic: offer pure, simple, delicious food for a value at a time when maybe people had a bit less money.”
It worked. On the first day, Burger Lounge ran out of food after just three hours. Four months later, they opened a second location in Kensington. Loring and his business partner at the time, Michael Gilligan, personally funded the first four locations before Loring went out on his own as president and CEO and partnered with private equity firm KarpReilly. Today, Burger Lounge has 25 locations throughout the US, with plans to expand further this year.
Now, as that fast-casual concept is no longer novel, Burger Lounge is instead banking on its “original grass-fed burger” to drive business.
“It’s a bit like Chick-Fil-A laying claim to the ‘original chicken sandwich,’” he says. “Does anyone believe they were the first people to think of putting chicken between two slices of bread? Before we put cows in industrial feed lots, all beef was essentially grass-fed. Since many are not aware of the evolution of the beef industry in America, we think it makes sense.”
Burger Lounge vets and manages relationships with responsible, sustainable purveyors.
“We had to sleep with a few frogs to find a few princes,” he quips. “Over time, you figure out if you can build trust with them and if their operation is authentic.”
And the menu continues to evolve. Just last year, Burger Lounge introduced a vegan burger. But it won’t put imitation meat on its menu anytime soon. “Selling a lab-produced burger doesn’t fit with our values,” he says.
When asked about Burger Lounge’s business valuation, Loring stays mum, because he’s not looking to sell it or to franchise for the foreseeable future. Instead, he shares a different number: 3 million—the number of diners per year at Burger Lounge’s 25 locations. Loring proudly claims that he’s built the country’s largest restaurant consumer base of fresh American grass-fed beef.
“Americans eat roughly 50 billion hamburgers a year. I don’t think that is going away anytime soon. Our grass-fed beef hamburgers are better for you, better for the environment, and I think they taste better.”
Spoken like a true “SOB.” —Sarah Pfledderer
8 San Diego Brands Explain How They Made It to the Top
Reid Carr
When Reid Carr founded his agency 18 years ago, the marketing industry was very different. Red Door Interactive was still trying to convince clients to build their first website. But as digital marketing tactics and platforms grew exponentially, RDI adapted along with them. They put the first restaurant on social media (Souplantation) and were the first company to collaboratively design an office using Pinterest.
Carr and his team won clients when they were relatively small and then helped them grow. From there, he would try to win what he calls more “twos”—”Win something smaller than your first. That’s where I focus. You know you can work on that because you have clients that are bigger. Then if we grow them, and they become our largest, it creates room to win more twos and threes.”
The key is to diversify. “We have to act like a mutual fund,” he says. “I’ve been through multiple economic downturns. I’ve watched a competitor go out of business damn near overnight because all their clients were home builders. If you get into any one category or vendor, you put yourself at risk.”
The formula has worked. Asics, Titleist, Bosch, Thermo Fisher, Charles Schwab, and Shea Homes have all been clients for years, the latter two for well over a decade.
Carr wants to remain “fiercely independent” and never sell out. “I want to build something I can hand off,” he explains. “So, there’s a strong foundation, core values, and infrastructure that will allow the next generation to flourish. I strongly believe that if you’re built to sell, it’s usually a shaky infrastructure because they believe it’s going to be someone else’s problem.”
Carr’s company is not a cutthroat environment. None of his colleagues are out solely for themselves. Carr gave a TED Talk in 2014 on running a “100 percent jerk-free workplace.” In marketing, he says, people will come forward with an idea “and a creative will say, ‘Hey, man, stay in your lane, this is my thing. You’re not good enough, cool enough, old enough, experienced enough.’ Our creative team is not like this because of our core values.” He maintains a culture of respect and open-mindedness by hiring candidates that have these innate values (vetted through an in-depth, three-hour job interview). Any employee can express an opinion, no matter department or rank, which allows for a diverse workforce.
They can’t work for jerks, either. In fact, over the years RDI has fired three clients—including one that was their second-largest—and fired “a ton before we ever won them.” A toxic organization causes problems; if it’s an individual, sometimes the client will do something about it. “We’ve had cases when they came back years later and said, ‘Things have changed here, can we talk?’”
You never know who will knock on the red door next. —EMG
San Diego brands explain how they made it to the top
Aliza Carpio | Photo: Madison Parker
Of the nearly 50 million people around the world who use TurboTax, probably very few know that it started in San Diego. Back in 1983, scientific programmer Michael Chipman came up with the idea of software that could guide people through filling out their tax returns, and even print out the forms to mail. That’s when ChipSoft was born. Up in Palo Alto the same year, tech consultant Scott Cook and his wife were balancing the family checkbook when he had a similar idea. Cook and Stanford student Tom Proulx created the personal finance software Quicken and founded Intuit Inc., which acquired ChipSoft ten years later.
Today, Intuit is based in Mountain View, traded on the NASDAQ, and has 19 offices in eight countries. Its Carmel Valley campus is home to 1,500 employees who work on TurboTax and the apps Turbo and Mint.
While there’s an in-house strategy to keeping all those customers happy—which they’ve coined Customer Driven Innovation (CDI) and Design for Delight (D4D)—management also pays a lot of attention to the well-being of the employees who implement that strategy.
“Culture is queen,” says Aliza Carpio, who came to Intuit from HP 18 years ago. She is now Intuit’s “principal tech evangelist,” which puts her in charge of creating a cool office culture in her company.
Intuit boasts a robust offering of extras and extracurriculars. Every employee-run club has a local Intuit executive as a sponsor or guide, like the African Heritage Network and the Asian Pacific Network. Intuit’s San Diego campus hosts five meetups—one of which is San Diego JavaScript, the largest tech meetup in San Diego. There are book clubs, workshops, and programming with companies like Athena and Qualcomm. During Hacktoberfest 2019, when engineers contribute code to open-source projects around the world, less than six percent of the participants worldwide were women. But among the Intuit engineers contributing, a full 23 percent were women.
8 San Diego Brands Explain How They Made It to the Top
Madison Parker
In 2013, the company launched an initiative called Tech Women @ Intuit, or TWI. The initiative ensures that women are not just applying to work at Intuit, but also choosing to stay and moving up in the company. The programs support women at all stages of their careers, and the company also reaches out to middle and high school students. There are mentorship programs, professional development circles, and events—one of which is the Grace Hopper Celebration, the world’s largest gathering of women technologists, produced by anitab.org. Carpio, who also hosts the podcast Tech Heroes, cowrote two talks presented to 60,000 women in engineering at the 2019 event. There, she noticed a huge shift in the types of questions candidates were asking compared to even the previous year. Instead of asking about the interview process and what projects to expect, their only inquiries seemed to concern culture—opportunities to give back to the community, team dynamics, and why Carpio has stayed at Intuit so long.
“You have to have champions like me for people to feel like they belong, can do the best work, can be fulfilled. I’ve been here 18 years because the culture is really cool. Eight different jobs in 18 years and I’m always thinking about it.”
Today, one-third of Intuit’s board of directors are women. The executive team, including the chief financial, technology, and marketing officers, is 40 percent female. If getting to the top is tough, Intuit women have cracked the code. —EMG
NuVasive president Matt Link
You know you’ve made it when a former Pittsburgh Steelers running back and Hall of Famer wants to be your spokesperson. Jerome Bettis is that spokesperson for NuVasive, the spinal tech company that changed his life.
In 2017, Bettis was suffering from incredible back pain and his doctor recommended a spinal fusion (a surgical procedure joining two or more vertebrae), but he was reluctant.
“He’s an avid golfer, and he was concerned about how quickly and effectively he could return to golfing,” explains NuVasive president Matt Link. “Through a recommendation of a former teammate who’d had a similar issue, he ended up having an XLIF.”
XLIF (Extreme Lateral Interbody Fusion) is NuVasive’s pioneering spinal surgery technique.
Before XLIF, most surgeries for spinal fusions required stripping away muscle and moving blood vessels. And the minimally invasive options weren’t easy to teach and reproduce. NuVasive’s founders developed technology that allowed for a new safe and relatively easy procedure. During an XLIF, surgeons enter from a small incision on the side of the body, without having to strip away muscle. They’re able to use this path toward the spinal cord because of NuVasive’s neuromonitoring technology, a retractor with a built-in system that tells surgeons where the nerves are so they can navigate around them. Overall, this approach results in a smaller scar and faster recovery time.
NuVasive was a small neurophysiology tech startup in Scripps Ranch before XLIF brought the company into operating rooms around the world. They secured venture capital funding and invested heavily in clinical trials to show that the technique was safe and effective. After obtaining FDA clearance, they introduced XLIF to the market in 2003.
It wasn’t an overnight success, though. “There was a healthy skepticism in the community,” Link says. It was very different from existing techniques, and nobody had heard of it before. It took time to gather data and win over the medical community.
NuVasive continued to improve the technology, and in the mid-2000s, sales for neuromonitoring started to take off. The company added new tech to its portfolio and expanded—a lot. During one especially fruitful period, NuVasive went from a $100 million company to a $1 billion company in 11 years.
NuVasive is now the world’s largest spine-focused company. It has a satellite office in Amsterdam—though its global HQ and largest employee base remain in San Diego. Link credits the city’s biotech community and the talent they’ve drawn from it for a lot of the company’s success. —Heather Karpel
Paul Goodman and Griffin Thall
Sydney Prather
In 2010, two La Jolla guys returned from a surf trip in Costa Rica with the ultimate souvenir: 400 brightly colored bracelets woven by two locals, which they sold to friends under the name Pura Vida, inspired by the country’s laid-back lifestyle. Today, an eye-catching $75 million acquisition has made Pura Vida one of the most enduring success stories of San Diego’s lifestyle brands.
Social media marketing was in its infancy a decade ago when Griffin Thall and Paul Goodman founded the brand. This was back before influencers were sponsored—before “influencer” had even entered the Insta-lexicon—and succeeding meant more than cracking an algorithm. It was grassroots, with the pair personally seeking out true fans, organically building a powerful feel-good presence into an empire.
From their early days selling in local boutiques, and soon enough at Coachella and Padres Opening Day, they strung together a community. Today, about 65 percent of Pura Vida’s sales come from e-commerce, 20 percent from wholesale, and 14 percent from monthly subscriptions.
And while social media platforms have changed over the years, from Vine to Snapchat to TikTok, the Pura Vida demographic hasn’t. Now it has a name—the VSCO girl. Named for a photo editing app, VSCO girls represent a market many brands want to break into. They wear Birkenstocks, drive Jeeps, drink from sticker-covered Hydro Flasks, and love Pura Vida. The vibe? Studiously unplanned.
“How can you go for the most unpolished look and still consider it marketing?” asks Thall, who says 98 percent of his demo are women. “It’s the complete opposite of retouched.”
Thanks to its fluency in content marketing, Pura Vida boasts an incredibly engaged customer base (No. 1 in jewelry, according to marketing consultant Stylophane) and a following of over 1.9 million on Instagram and just under 2 million on Facebook. In summer 2019, they sold a majority stake to Vera Bradley after interviewing more than two dozen private equity firms.
The Indiana-based publicly traded company, primarily known for its sturdy quilted handbags, acquired 75 percent of Pura Vida for $75 million, with the right to acquire the remaining 25 percent of the company after five years. Thall, 32, and Goodman, 30, also stand to earn up to $22.5 million in bonuses if the company meets certain performance goals.
8 San Diego Brands Explain How They Made It to the Top
Sydney Prather
Their decision to sell offloads lead production and back-office functions—accounting, finance, legal—to Vera Bradley, freeing up the existing Pura Vida team to focus on branding, marketing, and sales in their new La Jolla headquarters (ocean views, ping-pong, palm frond wallpaper).
The founders, who are SDSU alumni, employ 750 artisans in Costa Rica, El Salvador, and India, while raising more than $1.9 million for charitable causes through online sales of their charity collection bracelets.
While cause-minded outfits like Toms Shoes were an early influence, Pura Vida’s true brand heroes are Billabong and RVCA, both of which were pioneers in using real skaters, surfers, artists, and musicians in their influencer campaigns—in other words, professional athletes, not models.
“That girl in the dress with the photo crew in the Maldives? That’s done. No one cares,” Thall says. “If you can sell something that is the complete opposite of that, you might be onto something.” —Gillian Flynn
8 San Diego Brands Explain How They Made It to the Top
Like so many traditional comic book characters, Comic-Con had relatively unassuming beginnings.
In the 1970s, Shel Dorf, Ken Krueger, and Richard Alf gathered about 100 enthusiasts in the basement of The US Grant hotel. Last year—its 50th—Comic-Con’s estimated 135,000 attendees took over the San Diego Convention Center and surrounding downtown blocks. They came not just for comics, but for movies, television shows, games, cosplay, and more. If you were there (in or out of costume) you might have spotted Tom Cruise, Kristen Bell, Lin-Manuel Miranda, or Arnold Schwarzenegger. Presidential hopeful Cory Booker even took a break from campaigning to visit. A museum in Balboa Park is in the works.
There were a few secrets to Comic-Con’s success, not least that it was—and still is—run by fans. “We have always wanted to put the type of show together that we would want to attend,” says David Glanzer, the organization’s spokesperson and chief communications and strategy officer. Driven by passion rather than popularity, Comic-Con has both predicted shifts in culture and encouraged them. It hosted a panel on what was then called The Star Wars in 1976, a year before the film’s release.
“Comic books, film, science fiction literature… we felt that they were expressive forms of art that were fun and often educational,” Glanzer says. “We just tried to put on the best show we could, focusing on those things that we felt had merit.”
Comic-Con took a big-tent approach, gathering different media and genres under one roof. “There is something of a cross-pollination,” Glanzer says. “You may like movies, but then come to discover that you like science fiction as well—or comic books or gaming or costuming or interactive multimedia. I would hope that we had at least a small part in bringing these forms of art to a wider audience.”
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That’s putting it mildly. Along the way, entertainment companies realized how much power there was in Comic-Con’s ardent audience. The event has become a key promotional platform for Hollywood, and the changes that has brought haven’t always been welcome. But Glanzer says they try to stay true to their roots. “Comic-Con really is dedicated to increasing the public’s awareness of popular art. We are fans ourselves, and we are learning every day.” —SC
Food writer Beth Demmon names local bites we love—both at the high and low ends of our budgets
We love a mega-fancy tasting menu, but let’s be honest—we’re not all blessed with unlimited Wagyu funds. So we picked some of the breakout dishes of the last year (or couple of years) from the best chefs in the city, reverse-engineered their chief charms (salty, smoky, caramelized?) in the test lab of our mouths, and found some budget-friendly alternatives that hit some of the same notes with an everyday price tag.
Where do delicately plucked marigold blossoms adorn Deer Isle scallops, or ingredients like fermented raspberry precede roasted coffee oil, shiro miso caramel, or bronze fennel in a parade of hit-after-hit dishes? Lilo in Carlsbad, of course. San Diego’s newest Michelin star changes its menu with the seasons, but one stalwart dish has kept tongues wagging since opening day last April: the caviar ice cream. A boat-shaped sliver of orgeat ice cream, smoked celery root bushi, and freshly pressed almond oil are topped with a generous heap of caviar. It’s a dish so good and defining that chef Eric Bost will tire of talking about it for a very long time.
Price: $265 for the tasting menu (before tax, tip, and drinks)
There’s a reason Stella Jean’s s’mores ice cream is part of the local scoop shop’s “always available” menu. Made with fire-roasted marshmallows and coconut ash ice cream mixed with dark chocolate-covered graham crackers and mini marshmallows, its strangely ashen hue dabbled with flecks of tawny brown is a far cry from the wildly vibrant ube and pandesal toffee flavor seemingly made for Instagram reels. But it’s a sensation in your mouth—smoky, toasty, torched, creamy, marshmallowy, coconutty, ashy, and bitter from the dark chocolate. Pro tip: If you really want to DIY Lilo’s ultra-luxe treat, bring your own caviar.
Price: $6.25 for a single scoop
There’s no question what comes first at Lucien. It’s the egg. Chef and co-owner Elijah Arizmendi’s 12-course tasting menu begins with welcome bites under the calamansi tree before moving inside to start the Journey (the actual name of this section of the menu). The first step is one of the most astounding—a perfectly intact, upright, ochre-hued eggshell containing his take on Japanese chawanmushi (egg custard), topped with a dollop of caviar. The accompanying ingredients have ranged from sweet corn and huitlacoche to banana and buckwheat, but each one has precisely demonstrated Arizmendi’s commitment to French technique with California experimentation and global influence.
Price: $260 for the chef’s tasting menu (before tax, tip, and drinks)
The biggest difference (besides price) is that while Lucien’s dish changes with the season, Sushi Ota is comfortably predictable. A San Diego staple since 1990, the legendary Sushi Ota has been one of those if you know, you know joints that locals try to keep off the radar. (It hasn’t worked at all.) Known for ultra-fresh fish and ultra-traditional service, the small Pacific Beach restaurant also serves Japanese comfort foods like udon noodle soup alongside sashimi, nigiri, and rolls. But it’s the savory steamed egg custard, called chawanmushi, that really gives you the warm and fuzzies. Add a side of salmon roe (ikura) for a few bucks more, and this dupe is about as good as it gets.
Price: $12 for chawanmushi, $11 for ikura
Enough ink—and tears, I’m sure—has been spilled over Chick & Hawk’s long and arduous journey to opening its doors. But now that the Encinitas eatery is in full swing, chef Andrew Bachelier’s tightly curated menu of fried chicken sandwiches, fries, and bowls command lines of hungry locals and skate-culture loyalists. The Birdman, the signature hot chicken sandwich named for partner and skateboarding legend Tony Hawk, is piled with cabbage slaw and pickles and slathered with a tangy kimchi comeback sauce on a soft brioche bun. Although this Nashville meets California meets Mississippi meets Korea sando doesn’t command a triple-digit price tag, the fact that it’s nearly a $20 chicken sandwich (sans side) has been a topic of conversation. Bachelier—who worked at Addison before opening Jeune et Jolie, then launched SDM’s 2024 “Best New Restaurant,” Atelier Manna—and his team earned that price tag.
Price: $18
It’s hard to beat Koreans at the chicken game. Korean fried wings are defined by a double-fry technique—first at a low temperature to ensure the chicken is cooked through, then at a high temperature to ensure the famed extra-crispy, ear-splittingly crunchrageous magic. At Cross Street, they follow a similar fusion ethos as Chick & Hawk, using inspiration from the American South as well as Thailand, Korea, Vietnam, and more, with flavors like “Seoul Spicy” or “Honey Butter” for whatever you’re feeling that day. Pair it with a cold beer to go full chimaek (a popular Korean combination of pairing fried chicken and beer). Now that’s a combo—and price tag—that’s hard to beat.
Price: $8.75 for five wings
PB&J. Captain & Tennille. Brad Wise and steak. Steak frites ranks among the iconic global duos. And when the holy union of prime cuts and twice-fried carbs comes from Wise and the meat-loving masters at Trust Restaurant Group, it’s a pretty safe bet. À L’ouest—the group’s newest fancy, but not fussy, drippy plant dreamscape of a French steakhouse on the prime corner of 30th and University in North Park—gives guests a choice: 12-ounce New York strip, 8-ounce filet mignon, or 8-ounce Wagyu hanger, topped with sauce au poivre (the classic French pan sauce—peppercorns, shallots, heavy cream, brandy) and served with a heaping pile of 24-hour salt-brined fries and a watercress salad. One bite acts as a transport to a Parisian brasserie, so if you think about the cost in terms of time-space travel, it’s a pretty great deal.
Price: starts at $48
To satisfy the same urge for meat and potatoes, feel at least moderately European while doing so, and save a couple quid, a trip to The Shakespeare in Mission Hills ticks all the boxes. The classic British shepherd’s pie arrives in a piping hot oval au gratin dish, smothered with a thick layer of mashed potatoes. Beneath it lies a hefty portion of marinated ground beef and vegetables in the pub’s secret sauce, and while there are a few choices of sides, the correct order is peas and “proper” chips (a.k.a. chunky, thick-cut fries versus the typically thinner American “French” fries). It’s more tickety-boo than très bien, but it’s immensely satisfying in any language.
Price: $22.95
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.
From dedicated line cooks to seasoned bartenders, these are the people making magic happen in city's top restaurants
Chefs have done gobs of thankless, lumbar-breaking work over years to land the role. Restaurateurs put their entire livelihoods on the line, microdosed sleep, took ultimate responsibility for every minor stress. They earned the spotlight they get. But ask one of them, and they almost always defer to a line cook who’s showed up for years, been deep in the thing, and whose absence would bring the kitchen to its knees. Or the bartender with a warmth that draws people whether they’re thirsty or not. Or the noble and spreadsheetable soul in charge of purchasing everything needed for the nightly show.
They call it the “heart of the house.”
Spotlight or not, these are the people who make a food culture hum at its daily core.
For this year’s “Best Restaurants” issue, we asked a handful of the top chefs and one restaurant owner—Tara Monsod (Animae/Le Coq), Jason McLeod (Ironside Fish & Oyster), Ananda Bareño (The Marine Room), Owen Beatty (A.R. Valentien), and Ryan Thorsen (Mister A’s)—who that person is for them.
These are the hearts of houses.
Roger Feria Krile is not only the guy you want to be friends with at work, but also the guy you want to hire: respectful, nose-to-the-grindstone, versatile. And he’ll drop off a fresh batch of cinnamon rolls at your house for the holidays. Born in Tijuana, Krile moved to the US with his mom and sister when he was in elementary school. He saw the sacrifices his mother made to give her children a better life, and he pushed himself to live up to that brighter future.
He came to cooking during the pandemic, asking himself, “What do I really love to do?” His answer: “Bake cakes for friends and break bread with people,” he says. That led to a culinary school degree and a stint in a Michelin-starred NYC kitchen, where he grew to “love and understand” fine dining. Now back in San Diego, Krile’s showing up at Animae in a major way. He does prep work three mornings a week and comes later in the day twice a week for dinner service. Most line cooks do one or the other, but he requested both tours of duty.
“Gotta get my reps, keep my skills sharp,” Krile says, “and I don’t want to miss the rush.” Prep work in the mornings helps him learn how Executive Chef Tara Monsod uses each ingredient to the fullest. Krile’s not just a line cook. One-quarter Filipino (and learning about his culinary heritage from mentor Monsod), he’s building his own Mexican-Filipino pop-up concept. Look for Sarsa—Filipino for salsa—where every dish is a play on words fusing Mexican and Philippine Spanish or Tagalog. He’s already R&D’d a breakfast sandwich, the tortantalong: a torta filled with a signature Filipino eggplant omelette called a tortang talong. Friends in the industry say it’s unexpectedly delicious.
“He shows up every day with a clear goal of one day opening his own restaurant, and that drive pushes him to go above and beyond,” says Monsod. “He is constantly learning, asking questions, and absorbing as much as possible, all while leading by example on the line.”
Ruben Martinez knows every bottle of wine at Mister A’s—not necessarily by taste (though he was on the tasting committee for years), but by where they are in storage and whether they need replenishment. Owner Ryan Thorsen wants the wine list at 100 percent available every night, and Martinez’s job is to make that a reality. He’s been keeping inventory on Mister A’s wines since the 1970s, back when he worked for founder John Alessio. And it’s not just vino: Martinez also procures the ingredients, arriving at 5 a.m. to meet delivery trucks, stock shelves, and alert chefs if anything’s amiss.
Then he hits the dining room for a once- or twice-over to find any imperfections. If a light is out, if the plumbing acts up, if something major happens after he leaves in the afternoon, he’ll fix it all. He’s the best guy to ask, anyway; he knows every inch of Mister A’s. “Before ‘Google it,’ there was ‘Call Ruben,’” Thorsen says.
Martinez started out in hospitality at 17 with his father at Hotel Del. “I thought it would be easy working with my dad,” he says. “But early on, he caught me fooling around with the boys and told me, ‘We’re here to make money for the company. If you’re not willing to work, get out of here.’” That set him straight and set the foundation for Martinez’s lifelong dependability.
He moved to Mister A’s a couple years later, and after over five decades, he’s now the indispensable purchasing manager who worked with Alessio, Betrand Hug, and now Thorsen. Later this year, he’s planning on retiring—though he’s already offered to keep showing up a couple days a week and help out with Thorsen’s new project at Liberty Station.
Thorsen knows this man is a gem. “I don’t think we fully grasp what it will feel like without him,” he says. Last year, he threw Martinez a surprise birthday party in Mister A’s Blue Room, inviting Martinez’s family and a whole cast of coworkers going back to Alessio days. Martinez says he had to leave the room to hide his tears.
There’s an hour most people never see, when a restaurant’s technically awake but not yet accountable, and that’s where Patrick Mattoon lives. He’s been the foundation of Ironside’s prep team for the past five years, quietly guiding the day toward success. He and his team are the first in, and they turn on ovens, check deliveries, catch mistakes before they become problems, and fix everything without ceremony so the chefs and line cooks walk into a day that already works.
Mattoon organizes, but more importantly, he owns. There’s no job too small, no detail beneath notice. In a kitchen, bad prep’s the one thing you can’t fix later, no matter how talented of a chef is at the helm.
Five years in, Mattoon still approaches each day with the same care and intensity that he had on day one. He takes every task seriously and sees it through completely—the kind of consistent work that doesn’t draw attention but makes everything else possible. When the restaurant got a soft serve machine, a notorious maintenance nightmare, he taught himself how to clean and run it just to make sure it never broke, not for credit but because that’s just how he’s wired.
“He is a silent leader who has the respect of the entire team due to leading by example,” says Ironside chef Jason McLeod.
Through 23 years, three executive chefs, and a recent kitchen remodel, lead line cook Arturo Celestino is a constant at A.R. Valentien. He’s there at 6:30 a.m. five days a week—sometimes six—for the Lodge’s breakfast service. That means he’s up early prepping potatoes, slicing mushrooms, whisking pancake batter, and stirring sauces “always with a smile,” says Owen Beatty, the restaurant’s new chef de cuisine. “He’s a good leader.”
Celestino shows the younger guys how to make the eggs fluffy, so the omelettes are always perfect (don’t stop twirling the spatula!). He keeps his line in line when their spirits start to naturally droop during the morning shift home stretch when his crew just wants to get out of there. As the lead, he’s also the one chefs turn to when newbies need motivation.
His secret sauce: “mucho talking!” It keeps people happy, and it also helps the chefs retain talent in the kitchen.
Celestino learned to cook out of “necesidad,” he says. He cut his teeth on fine dining at Pacifica Del Mar at the Hyatt and moved to A.R. Valentien in 2003, just a few months after it opened in 2002.
“I’ve had good jefes,” Celestino says of the three executive chefs he’s known at A.R. Valentien: Jeff Jackson, Kelli Crosson, and now Michelin-starred Eric Sakai. Under Jackson—who’s known for pioneering farm-to-table dining in San Diego—Arturo learned to appreciate local ingredients.
“My favorite is basil,” he says, “added to tomato sauce with garlic, it’s mmm.” Fresh basil plays the supporting role in A.R. Valentien’s signature brunch plate, which is also Celestino’s top choice on the menu (to make and to eat), via the Bull’s Eyes: slow-roasted eggplant with sunny-side-up eggs, tomato sauce, and La Quercia prosciutto.
“I love my job,” Celestino says as he flashes that smile. “It’s not just a plate of food. It’s an experience.”
If you’ve been to The Marine Room, you’ve probably met bartender Tony Suarez. With his charming Cuban accent and dapper vest and tie, he makes it his business to regale guests coming and going—even while he’s pouring, mixing, shaking, polishing glasses, and taking orders.
“Over 90 percent of our guests are celebrating a special occasion,” he says. “So I keep up the celebration throughout their whole visit.” He’ll make you a sparkling toast and a customized cocktail, and on your way out, he’ll wish you a happy birthday (again) and invite you back for drinks on him.
“My goal is always to delight the guest,” he says. “I like to discover how you feel and lead you to what you would like to drink.” That spirit of experimentation has led to new signature cocktails, such as the Gerald—crafted for a neighbor who’s a regular—featuring housemade pomegranate puree and bourbon, or the I Drink of You with local Bebemos tequila, Gran Marnier, and Green Chartreuse. You won’t find this anywhere else.
“[Suarez] has mastered the art of the personalized guest experience,” says Marine Room’s Executive Chef Ananda Bareño. “He remembers the small details and favorite orders that make our regulars feel like family.”
Suarez’s tenure at the Marine Room started with a walk on the beach and a knock on the door. He was impressed by the beautiful location, and he asked if they were hiring. He immediately started as a server assistant—right before Valentine’s Day. The bartender took Suarez under his wing, and he took to the books to learn all about spirits.
He’s taken on the bartender role with wisdom and grace, offering a sympathetic ear, a pick-me-up, and a “human to human connection,” he says. Ten years into his career, the surroundings still inspire him as much as they did on day one.
“The Marine Room, the windows onto the ocean, [all] have a healing effect,” he says.
Leorah Gavidor won her first essay contest at age 5. She writes features, news, and non-fiction in San Diego.
After 20 years and thousands of meals as a food critic, San Diego Mag Content Chief Troy Johnson picks the city's top standouts
His ascent has been stealth and humble, which fits the man. When Liberty Station was struggling to convince people it existed over a decade ago, Sicilian chef Accursio Lota’s food at Solare Ristorante was a tractor beam for food people who sniff out hidden talent like truffle dogs. In 2017, he won the World Pasta Championship (a legit competition from global pasta brand Barilla) and struck out on his own, opening his and his wife’s from-scratch pasta trattoria in North Park (Cori Pastificio). Gambero Rosso—the Italian version of Michelin, the most respected source—has clamored for the restaurant since it opened, naming it “New Opening of the Year” and this year giving it their highest award, “Tre Forchette” (Three Forks), only knighted on a handful of US restaurants.
So this year, Lota opened his grandest thing—Dora Ristorante—and it pulls everything together. Steps from San Diego’s world-class theater, La Jolla Playhouse, it’s laden with brass and large-format murals, tile work and mosaics—like the one on the wood-burning oven that blisters, chars, and smokes a good portion of the menu. Their housemade focaccia is a new street drug (try it with the puttanesca, his grandmother Dora’s recipe). The olive oil-cured sardines make “sustainable seafood” and ethics not taste like a compromise. Dora might finally be the one to solve the “where do I eat before the world premiere at LJP” dilemma.
The yuzu-colored building that helped build North Park’s modern food culture is alive again. Years ago, the ornate French Quarter–inspired spot on 30th Street was home to chef Matt Gordon’s Urban Solace (duck macaroni and cheese). Then it laid conspicuous and fallow until a few months ago when Bacari took it on. It’s an LA transplant, but they’re proving forgivable of that trespass. Chef and co-founder Lior Hillel cooked at Jean-Georges before opening the first of this Venetian-style restaurant in 2008 with brothers Danny and Robert Kronfi (Bobby started his food venture with a pop-up dinner series in his college apartment at USC).
For dinner, it’s house-baked bread, crudo and shrimp ceviches, Mediterranean street corn, lamb hummus, shawarma, and glazed pork belly. Weekend brunch is bellinis and French toast and burekas (famed Jewish stuffed puff pastry), and chef Noa’s cauliflower (caramelized with chipotle). It’s Italian-ish with a heavy dose of pan-Mediterranean and Middle Eastern. Doesn’t hurt that they left the iconic exterior as is, adding chandelier-farmhouse insides with charm that echoes two of the city’s dearly departed (Jayne’s Gastropub, Cafe Chloe).
Much tolerance for friends who hate mussels because they look too biological. But if they manage to dislike À L’ouest’s—served over ice with vadouvan curry aioli and chili crisp—then you’ve successfully identified your brokemouth friend and should try bicycling or crafting with them to bond instead of eating in public places. It should be on everyone’s short list for dish of the year.
Chef Brad Wise and his team have earned their rep over multiple concepts—Trust, Fort Oak, Cardellino, Wise Ox, Rare Society. But he’s been eyeing this corner of North Park since before he opened his first (Trust, in 2016). North Park has been rising for a while, and À L’ouest feels like the missing piece—an indoor-outdoor brasserie stunner on the marquee spot of 30th and University, which long sat boarded up and vacant like a neighborhood missing a front tooth.
As with his other concepts, woodpile is king; smoldering red oak boosts the flavor of just about everything. Get the spätzle with braised rabbit, maitake mushroom, secret de compostelle (the famed Basque sheep’s milk cheese), and black truffle. Or the chicken liver parfait with persimmon, fennel aigre-doux (sweet-sour), and chives on toast. Or, like everyone else in there—the steak frites.
Chef Travis Swikard’s first solo restaurant, Callie in East Village, proved how details can make the most composed of us blubber a little in fine places—from citrus left in ovens overnight to blacken and transform, to the Scripps Oceanographic Institute saltwater he keeps his spot prawns thriving in until ordered, to the days-long fermentation and stone-ground dukkah that turn carrot shavings into a statement piece.
Now, he’s focusing on French food with a fitter, less buttery San Diego heart. Fleurette is his doubling-down, a SoCal riff on the food he learned under mentors Daniel Boulud and Gavin Kaysen. The French gave us the mother sauces, and Fleurette showcases the lightest and brightest evolutions. Like the anchoïade on his beef tartare, which uses famed Italian anchovy sauce colatura di alici, mixed with cured egg yolks over tiny, uniform-sized cubes of raw, USDA Prime Flannery beef.
There is soubise (onion sauce), a sauce vierge (tomatoes and herbs), and a fennel marmalade on the duck liver and bone marrow pâté. Although the structure is stunningly pure glass, Fleurette’s in a location—an office park on the edge of La Jolla, near UTC—that few chefs would be able to pull off. But Swikard’s Michelin-bound house of saucework pulls hard.
The Escondido taqueria from Rosarito-born-and-trained chef Juan González and farmer Megan Strom took the county by storm this year. The married couple started as a popup four years ago, hosting farmside dinners before taking up residency at Vino Carta in Solana Beach. Strom was working a small, 5-acre heirloom bean farm in Valley Center owned by Mike Reeske (aka “The Bean Man”) when he retired and sold them the plot.
The huge bonus was that the sale included Reeske’s famed collection of beans, curated over 20 years. The couple planted other things and now grow much of what they serve in the form of tacos and burritos at a permanent spot in Escondido: Mesa Agrícola.
The menu’s bone simple: housemade tortillas in your choice of taco or burrito norteños (which are smaller, like burritos de hielera) that change constantly and often topped with guisados (Mexican braises or stews) like lamb and garbanzo, birria, chicharrón, mushrooms al ajillo, rajas, you name it. And, of course, some of the best beans honoring the local legend of Reeske.
San Diego is now the recipient of national food buzz. The dark ages—during which we learned how to sear ahi and asada some carne and called it a day—felt prolonged, and they were. The problem was never ingredients. San Diego County always had the best raw dinner materials (more small farms per capita than any county in the US, seafood right there); it just didn’t have a critical mass of highly trained chefs to do them justice. Easy to understand the chef dearth.
For a very long time, if you wanted to be a serious chef you had to go to the restaurant superplexes of New York, San Francisco, or Chicago (which imported their raw ingredients from places like San Diego). But now—credit farmers or Alice Waters or Dan Barber or Michael Pollain or the reasonable conclusion that food picked right here tastes better than food picked way over there—some of the most talented chefs are moving to the ingredients, not the other way around.
In San Diego, we got Richard Blais, Swikard, and now Elijah Arizmendi, who cut his teeth in Vegas with Joel Robuchon (plus Boulud and Thomas Keller) and was chef de cuisine at NYC’s L’abeille when it got its first Michelin star. His debut restaurant in La Jolla—with partners Brian Hung and Melissa Yang—is a dark, moody multicourse tasting-menu hideaway with one of the best egg dishes in the city.
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.
The annual event honors middle market companies creating jobs, scaling up, and investing in the region
San Diego is known for its startup culture and innovation economy, but what happens when the company moves beyond its early-stage years? The San Diego Business Impact Awards aim to answer that question, spotlighting the middle market businesses helping drive the region’s economy.
Hosted by San Diego Regional Economic Development Corporation (EDC) and JPMorganChase, the second annual awards celebration takes place on Thursday, July 23, from 4:30 to 7:00 p.m. at Scripps Research Auditorium. More than 200 executives, entrepreneurs, and business leaders are expected to attend the networking and cocktail event honoring some of San Diego County’s fastest-growing companies.
Businesses headquartered in San Diego County that have operated for at least two years are encouraged to submit their nomination by Thursday, June 18 at 4 p.m. Companies across industries—from technology and life sciences to tourism and consumer products, as well as pre-revenue startups—are eligible for recognition.
For EDC President and CEO Mark Cafferty, the event is as much about building connections as celebrating success. “We’ve had a longtime partnership with JPMorganChase; their work aligns with our efforts to support underserved communities and drive talent development,” says Cafferty. “And the networking was invaluable last year. I’m still in touch with people I met at last year’s awards.”
EDC is an independently-funded nonprofit that works directly with San Diego companies to help them grow the local economy, make the region as a whole more competitive, and attract and retain top-tier talent with quality jobs. Through EDC, companies can get help starting or expanding their business with support for things like site selection, permit navigation, and regulatory guidance, plus connections to local resources and potential business collaborators.
The San Diego Business Impact Awards began as an idea with one of EDC’s longtime strategic partners, JPMorganChase. The two organizations share a commitment to San Diego and are dedicated to bolstering middle market businesses.
“We’re blessed with a robust innovation economy and startup community,” says Aaron Ryan, San Diego Region Manager for JPMorgan’s Commercial and Investment Bank and vice chair of the firm’s’ San Diego Market Leadership Team. “But one of the segments of the business community we felt was overlooked was emerging middle market companies—the businesses that are no longer small but not yet large.”
Ryan says supporting those companies is critical as they scale and decide where to invest, hire, and grow.
San Diego’s high cost of living remains one of the region’s biggest business challenges, making talent recruitment and retention increasingly competitive. But local leaders point to the region’s quality of life, climate, and collaborative business community as advantages that continue to attract employers and workers.
“In order to support thriving households, there has to be enough high-quality jobs for people to be able to afford to live here,” Cafferty says. “Once a company grows and excels past that middle market point in their growth cycle, they become much more likely to pay higher wages and compete globally.”
Both Cafferty and Ryan proudly tout the unique collaboration that exists among San Diego County businesses. Bringing together top universities producing high-quality talent, cutting-edge research institutions, a robust military and defense presence, leading ocean science and environmental organizations, and a binational, cross-border identity creates a distinct business ecosystem that defines and strengthens the San Diego region.
Last year’s San Diego Business Impact Awards celebrated nearly 60 honorees from 49 industries, representing a total of 8,232 jobs across eight sectors, including: software and technology, healthcare and life sciences, consumer goods, professional services, finance, construction and manufacturing, defense, and hospitality and tourism. On average, honoree companies doubled their revenues over the previous year, employed more than 145 San Diegans each, and offered an average annual compensation of $192,415.
Top honorees included defense contractor Innoflight, environmental consulting firm Bancroft Construction Services, life sciences startup Element Biosciences, defense technology contractor GALT Aerospace, organic grocery store chain Jimbo’s, and biopharmaceutical company LENZ Therapeutics. During the event, Innoflight Founder and CEO Jeff Janicik held a fireside chat offering his insights on investing in the community and embracing San Diego culture.
This year, organizers hope to continue highlighting the middle market players driving economic impact across the region. Nominations are now open through June 18 at 4 p.m. Get your tickets to the San Diego Business Impact Awards celebration to enjoy drinks by Snake Oil Cocktail Co., light bites, live music, and networking.
We asked, you voted, and food critic Troy Johnson chose his favorites—these are the top food and drink people and places in the city
Some keep lists of favorite books, of quotes, of enemies whose time shall come. At SDM we keep vast, nuanced, hotly debated lists of the best food and drink in the city. Menus are our smut novels. From Michelin stars to mom and pops, our list constantly evolves over hundreds of new bites tried every year. Here’s the 2026 list from food critic Troy Johnson and 129,000-plus votes from our readers, who really, really know their food.
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.
SDM owner and food critic Troy Johnson identifies some standout stars in SD's food scene
I spent time in a hot dog stand on the edge of San Diego Bay, looking out a window that mattered. Mattered to a kid whose mom taught him to fish on this pier. They’d turn on a little transistor radio, find a signal through the static, stare at the water, and talk life and his dad. Dennis Borlek’s dad was out there, somewhere, commanding a naval submarine through god knows what. When his dad would dock in Point Loma weeks or months later, Borlek biked down the street along Shelter Island to see him and steal back stolen moments.
Later, Borlek helped midwife the craft beer scene, managing seminal spots like Small Bar and Liar’s Club. Wondering what to do with the rest of his life, he went back to that pier and saw a for-lease sign on the bait and tackle shop. He tore through the public library and spent the whole night learning how to write a business plan (he had no clue). A couple days later he found himself at the intimidating end of a massive conference table, pitching his dream to the very official Port of San Diego executives.
They gave it to the San Diego kid. Not sure if they ever imagined Fathom Bistro—the tiniest, mightiest craft beer and hot dog stand, filled with spear guns, ocean monster figures, and seafaring oddities—would still be there 13 years later, let alone be a local’s favorite. It’s the most San Diego place in the world. Borlek taught himself to make kimchi and puts it on his Explodo Dog. His friend Kevin, who played with him in a punk band, dresses as a pirate and works the door on weekends. Has done so for years.
And when Borlek stares out the window, he can see the sub base and the memories of his dad.
Later, a few beach towns over, I sat in an employee break area—a shaded back-alley alcove with grape vines that serves as an escape garden for the crew. The place used to be a taco shop. Owner Crystal White points to a window of a single bedroom behind the dough-mixing part of the kitchen. She lived there when she started, often finding herself on the roof at midnight, staring at a broken compressor, trying to will it into working.
A blue-collar kid who fell in love with bread, she moved to San Diego with a business plan and zero cash. Banks don’t loan money to bread dreamers. Fate, kismet, and door-knocking found her enough investors. In the weeks leading up to opening that dream—perfect croissants, kouign-amanns, sandwiches, pizzas, baguettes fermented with wild La Jolla yeasts—she was outside hammering and painting. Locals would pause to ask what she was putting into the spot. “A bakery!” she’d reply.
“Oh, we don’t need one of those,” they’d say. Eight years later, White has moved out of the bedroom, and Wayfarer Bread is one of the best bakeries in the land. I ask if she’ll ever open another location. “I grew up dirt poor,” she says. “This has surpassed even my wildest dreams. This is enough. Please make sure you mention Emma Koehler, K-O-E-H-L-E-R, my kitchen manager. She deserves the credit now.”
These are the people and the stories behind “Best Restaurants.” This issue is dedicated to them, the culture they’ve gritted into being. On the surface, the annual tradition—naming a list of “winners,” my favorite places and my honest answers to “who has the best taco/pizza/Thai…”—is a good-natured competition among friends. But the deeper point is that it’s a way to highlight hundreds of places that have risked it all to build a little magic across the city. Sure, some owners were born in the stars and used that dust to make more stars. But many or most restaurants started with a scrappy go-getter or two. And now those places are filled with dozens or hundreds of people who love the work, show up day in and day out, for years. People like Koehler and the ones we feature in our story, “Behind the Line”.
So please use this list as a beachhead. Try these places, email me ([email protected]) to say “thanks” or “you truly messed up.” Eat, drink, commune, say hello, get to know the stories of the people making your favorite food. Make your own list, and share it with us.
(Note: Fathom didn’t win anything, probably because there’s no category for “Best Hot Dog Craft Beer Stand on a Pier with a Pirate,” which is a shortcoming on our part. So I put him here because he should be a part of any conversation about best San Diego things.)
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.
Scripps study shows that some patients may be able to taper their dose and maintain results
While glucagon-like peptide-1 (GLP-1) receptor agents have been used to treat Type 2 diabetes for more than 20 years, their recent emergence as weight-loss wonder drugs marked a new frontier in medicine. But their effectiveness has left some patients wondering what to do once they’ve reached their goal. Stopping the medication could mean regaining some, if not all, of the weight. A Scripps Clinic internal medicine physician recently conducted a small study of whether GLP-1 patients who had reached their goal weight could maintain that weight by taking their regularly prescribed injection every other week instead of weekly. Spoiler alert: 30 of 34 patients did. Read more about the study here and what that may mean as pharmaceutical companies roll out oral GLP-1s.
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