Tin Fork
Hot curry on a cold night? I think so. Besides, this place, as the day fades and the lights start winking on, just calls my name. “Come in! Get warm! Taste the chutney, the curry, …
Clickety-clack along the track! We’re rolling! The Pacific Surfliner snakes through the hills around Sorrento Valley, slowly, methodically rounding the canyon curves like a hunting dog following his nose. That distant horn I hear? Oh …
You look at Palmys and you straightway think Dunedin, Queenstown, Raglan. All those pubs are named after Kiwi hometowns. They have sprung up around ’Diego these last few years, and now here’s this new one: …
“Sure, I went to culinary school. The School of You Tube.” You’ve got to hand it to Dale. He seems to have single-handedly created this San Diego Empire of the Small Burger. Right now, I’m …
Say what? “You’re pouring the dinner onto the paper table cloth??” “That’s why we give you plastic gloves,” says Jordan. Then he’s off. And there I am, sitting with my puddle of sauce and potatoes …
Love surprises! Neighbor Kevin and I are coming out of the ocean after a lunchtime swim. Was it cold? You betcha, for the first minute. But once you’re body surfing, all you’re thinking about is …
This. Is. Fabulous. Talking about the new Blue Line. We’re zinging up where no trolley has gone before. New stations with unknown names like “Tecolote Road,” (Turns out “Tecolote” means “owl” in Nahuatl) and “Clairemont …
“This is North County, so let’s not expect cheap,” says my friend Diana. No sticker shock for her. She’s into swanky malls like this one, UTC. Problem: sign says the mall closes at eight, but …
Unexpected pleasure! Here, in the midst of Coronado’s Golden Quarter-Mile, is one of the secret bargains of the Sceptered City. I come across it as I’m loping north on the western side of Orange Avenue. …
It’s the colors, here in this neighborhood that’s celebrating with tacos and beer and lots of noise, half a block from 5th and University. “Escandalo!”, a gal’s singing again and again. It looks like a …
“Imagine Christmas,” says Trivikram, “but in India. That tells you what Diwali is like.” Trivikram (I have to ask what his name means. It means “Triple Victory”) and his buddies (Anupam, Sahana, Sindhu, Nikhil) all …
“Let’s go Japanese,” says Chris. “You mean chopsticks?” asks Erik. “Not really my thing.” There are four of us standing around here, dithering by the DMV in Uptown. It’s 4:30 pm. Chris calls his buddy …
“Dang!” says Kevin. “I’ve just spent $4000 on a filter system that produces alkaline water. I lived here in Carlsbad for three years, and never knew these guys were here.” He’s talking about this building …
I think I’m in love. Again. With tacos. I’ve been tramping the streets of Old Town. I can see it’s trying hard to get back on its partying feet. And yes, places like Cafe Coyote …
The green islands break up the windblown sheets of water. It looks like an archipelago seen from a plane. But we’re only on a bridge, 15 feet above the Sweetwater River. That’s just the start …
It’s heading towards nine in the am. People stand around impatiently, shoulders hunched, hands in pockets, looking up the steps to the deck like they’re waiting for the return of David Bowie. They’re about that …