Huh? Last time I came through these doors this was a Chinese place, the Silver Sea. Now it’s Hawaiian. Very Hawaiian. Bright yellow and sea-green walls, canoe paddles, three toothy, life-size tikis, and that bright …

It’s Hard to Eat With a Paper Bag Over My Head by Naomi Wise I arrived in San Diego nine years ago, a well-spoiled food snob coming down (pun intended) from San Francisco like the …

When Judith Moore suggested that because my buddy Hank and I were eating mostly cheapo street food anyway, why not write about it, I thought, “Yes, but how many ways can you describe a burger? …

“This is on me,” says Carla. “I’ve been saving. True! Ever since you didn’t take me out on my birthday. You forgot, remember?” Sigh. Yes, I remember. I forgot. “Where?” I say. “And how much?” …

Bay Park. Whoever knew where that was? I’ve whisked past it a zillion times, driving with Hank up Interstate 5 or on the Coaster or aboard the Amtrak. Never even gave it a blink. I …

Up here near the 94 College exit, a blue 1966 Valiant sits parked between a Frazee’s and a Weight Watchers place. Only one man in this town has a sky-blue ’66 Valiant: my buddy Rod, …

I can’t believe it. Here I am on deepest Revolución, when I spot that black hat, that gray-red beard, that loping walk. It can only be one person. “Willy?” I say. Willy Clauson has stuck …

Clunk! Man. Umberto Falcone’s kinda surprised I’ve tossed the bocce ball anywhere close to the jack. Call it beginner’s luck. Luck: Guess that’s how this whole sea-urchin thing started too. Though now that I think …

“Slow down, you move too fast. You’ve got to make the morning last...” Can’t help humming that Simon and Garfunkel ditty. Life’s pouring through my veins again. How not? It’s one of those crisp, sunny …

Can’t believe it. Here I am in North Park, yapping away with Albert Einstein’s cousin! Evelyn, who runs this eatery with her husband Jeff, casually drops it that her grandpa and Albert were first cousins. …

“Be nice or go away,” says the sign above the bar. Hmm...none too welcoming. But, hey, I’ll be nice, ’cause what a bar, and what a backboard! Huge, with baroque carving, big mirrors. Victorian, I …

History’s in the air. Talk about hidden jewels. Turns out that here in National City they have the only original transcontinental railroad terminus in the United States still standing. Since 1882, the depot has been …

I still can’t believe it. My buddy Frankie. He’s gone. Checked out. Died. Had half his life to live, still. And my hands aren’t clean. All those Delicado Ovalado cigarettes I always got for him …

“La Dolce Vita,” reads the sign above the counter where I’m sitting. Well, my vita’s in no way dolce right now. Whose is? But this place I had to try. Even though I knew I …

“Camel meat,” sighs Mukhtar. “That’s what I miss most. It’s the meat treat in Somalia. Here, I think it’s not even legal.” He grabs a piece of banana. Of course, if there’s one thing apart …

The view, the view…a man could faint from the über-coolness of this whole scene. You can see over the Gaslamp roofs to the Pacific. Heck, you can see to Mexico. Gotta hand it to them. …

Cc,c,c,c,cold. I stand out in the slush and snow, trying to decide if I can afford this place, a joint for sophisticates, by the looks of it, even way up here in the mountains near …

Oh, man. Gonna faint. Just ran a hundred steps up one side of the convention center, two at a time, I swear, and down another hundred to the bay side. Keep jogging along the Embarcadero …

“Spare change?” says the guy sitting on the sidewalk. Must know I just cashed a paycheck. It’s Friday night, around 6:00, at Sixth and C. Me, I’m staring at a sandwich board in front of …

I’m confused. Here I am, top of India Street, breezy Friday, trying to decide between Mexican and Thai. El Indio and Saffron. Each one’s a sort of record-holder. El Indio’s one of the oldest taco …

Remember the guy who hijacked a tank and drove it through the streets of San Diego? They say this is where he got the tank, at the National Guard Armory in Linda Vista. And not …

"Ho, ho, ho.” He sits four chairs down, at the end of the bar. Cherry cheeks, white mustache, Burl Ives beard. Would make a perfect Santa Claus, but you can tell he’s saying it out …

“It’s demeaning,” says Carla. “Treating them like sex objects. And the men! They look so stupid, like kids spying on a nudist camp.” Part of me agrees. On the other hand, my buddy Frankie — …

Is this where Obama won the election? The little pizza shop was a hotbed of political debate for the longest time before the Great Victory. Everyone’s committed, one way or the other. Ivan, one of …

This restaurant is closed. Should I or shouldn’t I? I stand at the base of the steps. Up top, a couple of “log” fires are burning in their chimeneas, kivas. Beautiful People sit around them, …

I admit it: I’m moth to the flame. Just ambling down Garnet, around 8:00 at night. Place is buzzing with life. But right across from Longboard’s rowdy crowd, I start feeling the pull of this …

I can’t believe this. I’m looking down — way down — at the kelp beds off La Jolla. Brown bruise on blue ocean. Jet fighter zooms out to sea — underneath us! Chopper whirrs by, …

And then the Great King came forth, and he did spake, saying, “Let There Be Law!” Thirty-seven centuries later, I’m lookin’ him in the eye, raising my glass mug of chai, and saying, “Sir, you …

Nobody goes to the hospital unless they have to. Or their buddy has to. My buddy Cisco had to today. Tests. He’s like me: car-free. So our neighbor Linda offered her Nissan. Bless that gal. …

“Oh, man. Where am I going to get my curry now?” Jim stands staring at the notice taped to the front door. “Dear customers,” it begins. “After serving El Cajon for 52 years since 1956, …

“Totally Nude, 6:00 p.m.–6:00 a.m.” Dang. It’s only 5:00 p.m., here outside Club Fantasy Gentlemen’s Club. Actually, I’m jes’ passing by, minding my business. Too broke to go in anyway. When you’re poor you can’t …

“I didn’t drive here,” says Dale. “Why would I? I live two blocks away. This is my local. I used to spend $200–$300 a month on gas. Now it’s more like $60. We walk! This …

She buries her face into his shirt. He stares, bug-eyed, out the window. You know he’s pondering a bi-ig problem. They’re sitting on the side seats at the back of the Number 7. He gets …

Fever Crotch’s drummer whacks his drum — the box he’s sitting on — with his bandaged hand and teases his cymbal with a drumstick held in the other. The guitarist howls some lovelorn lament. But …

"End Times Christian Soldiers Mission," says the church near Oak Park School. Lord, why does everyone love this "end is nigh" stuff? I'm aboard the 955 bus, heading south toward National City. On the other …

It's 6:30 in the morning. Loan ("Lo-Ann"), the beautiful, solemn-faced Vietnamese girl in the green smock, hands me the note. It's from my lifeguard buddy. "Ed: Time and tide wait for no man. Off to …

"Spare a buck?" Scott asks. That's what starts it. I'm ambling innocently up Fifth toward University when I come across Scott, squatting against a wall, smoking. He gets me at a weak moment. So happens …

"Let's do it," said Naomi. Wow. I never thought she'd agree. I wanted her to show me what's going on with these new, like, artisanal dessert places popping up around town. Turns out she's curious …

Sunday evening. Light's fading. Wandering up Ash and Union, the echoey streets of the world above Broadway. You know, wrong side of the tracks. All the cool eateries are in the Gaslamp. Up here, especially …

This restaurant is closed “I came before crack hit the streets,” says the Mother of East Village. “That’s how long I’ve been here.” Which means that Gloria Poore arrived in the 1960s, when this part …

Jerry Toliver’s a big guy. He’s a rock drummer and tennis coach, and he looks like a young James Brown with a headband. So I’m not surprised he’s put away a plate of rib tips …

“Where am I from?” says Dzung. “Hanoi.” Wow. We’re sitting ’round the fire pit, chowing down. He’s eating grilled chicken and fries. I’m into pork tacos with chicken nuggets, a cheese enchilada, and a little …

E.J. Wilson sings it like he really means it. “No one can take your happiness, long as you/ Do what you gotta do.” That’s exactly what he’s doing. What he has to do. Busking. We’re …

“I’m a cook, not a chef,” says Mary. “There’s a difference?” says Carla, looking up from her dinner. She’s diving into her turkey, cranberry sauce, mash, and peas. Totally standard, but it’s been so long …

I’ve always been a goat guy. Yes, it’s sometimes gamey, but that’s the point: goat meat’s never bland. So today I’m thinking, why not? Right here on Imperial in Sherman Heights, where a couple of …

I take the pig's rectum, hold it on the fork. This is it. Chomp. Try not to think, I tell myself. I mean, if this wasn't what it is, I'd quite enjoy it. A little …

Yippee! It’s okay to eat burgers again!” This is our neighbor Lisa. She’s yelling it from the balcony of her apartment. Us burger-loving burghers, Carla and I, gather ’neath her balcony. “Burgers are back!” Lisa …

You ask, what do I like about Tijuana? This is what: I’m jes wandering down Fourth, heading toward Constitución, when I come across an impromptu clump of guys sitting around a shoeshine booth, “Bolería El …

Hey. Here it goes. The scalp. Prickling, breaking out in sweat beads. Ladies and gentlemen, we have liftoff. Tonight I stopped outside this big red-and-yellow sign on Garnet. “World Curry.” Hmm... Why not? I like …

Hank should so be here. So many freebies, and all healthy. I’m lost in a swirl of customers, ranging up and down the lunchtime food counters, the sushi counter, the pizza counter, the salad counter, …