Tin Fork

Voilà, instant burger

Smoked pineapples and nuked burgers not so bad.

“This place is old-fashioned, like a Cairo café. We don’t do loud music and DJs.”

The restaurant at the end of the universe

Endless Joes

His dream was always to make this the #1 jazz spot in the country. Or at least the county.

Squeaky cheese?

Poutine means "mess"

She looks like Renée Zellweger. Wait. Maybe she is René Zellwegger. Maybe the real Renée got sick of the movie life and paid another chica to come out to the cameras after the “facelift,” pretending ...

Poetry on a plate

Drawn in by the sign, “Japanese Tapas and Noodles.” Huh. Japanese tapas?

Under the stainless grill is a fire with a pleasant resinous flavor wafting up from it.

Breakfast or bust

"Best Breakfast in Town Coming Soon.” I’ve been watching this sign for months. We’re up on Hancock in the courtyard of 57 Degrees, the wine barn that hosts a monthly food-truck get-together. Not to mention ...

Transmogrified

That North Park feeling in National City.

At night, that long walk up from the 8th Street trolley stop to National City Boulevard can get a little spooky. Especially when you’re walking the echoey stretch under the I-5. But then you cross ...

Manic about organic

Gastro missionaries almost convert with a sweet potato longboat and cashew cream.

"Become totally manic about organic. Get your healthy on. Super foods for super humans!” Uh-oh. Back in the land of the super-healthy again. It’s incredible. Healthy is busting out all over. This cute place with ...

Danged sweet fish

Lunging into a couple tacos in Popotla.

No power and a dirt road mean fish doesn't get any fresher.

Juices get running at Al Azayem

“That is lamb-shank tshreeb, like stew. It is very Iraqi. Comfort food.”

Sunday night. East Main. El Cajon. Warm, balmy, a relief from another El Cajon day. Families, older men (Chaldean, mostly) sit around in clumps on the boulevard’s benches and in Prescott Promenade Park, talking, playing ...

No pho king here

OB — packed, noisy, cheap, cool.

I don’t know how O.B. does it. Places like the Joint — packed, noisy, cheap, cool. And now this joint, packed, noisy, cheap, cool. I guess we can only blame O.B. Tonight, Saturday, 9:30, I’m ...

O Truck, where art thou?

Brussels with benefits.

Not your grandma’s sprouts. Get 'em while they're hot.