You can hear his laugh from all the way out in the corridor. It sounds like he’s having some rip-roaring conversation with Jimmy Kimmel and a live audience. This is Ernest. He’s the chef here …

"The southland has much more interesting Mexican food,” says Juan Carlos. “I’m thinking Chula Vista, I.B., San Ysidro. But in North Park the other day, we had been drinking, we needed something to put in …

Taco means tiny taste of temptation. Satisfaction by a thousand different cuts of meat and veggies.Is it just me, this wacko taco love affair? I don’t think so. Every San Diegan has a secret taco …

First off: I challenge anyone to beat my speed-walking time, from Anchorage Lane at Shelter Island Drive to the Kona Kai Club at the southern end of Shelter Island. Ten minutes. A good country mile. …

Tacos El Rorro The thing about Rolando, El Rorro’s owner, is he gets his shrimp from the ocean, not fish farms. These little guys have exercised, lived real lives of chase, chomp, and run. Not …

Canvas sign blurs by. “Matua’s… Islander Grill.” Wha? There’s no eateries in this part of the Barrio. What’s up? I pull the cord on the 901. Sixteenth and National. Whole city of homeless tents stretches …

"Shiny beans,” says Dave. “Sure sign.” He’s talking coffee beans. And he should know. He’s managing this new coffee place-café here kitty-corner to the Firehouse museum at Cedar and Columbia in Little Italy. “Uh, sure …

King Mu of Zhou dreamed of tasting the peaches of immortality. The brave charioteer Zaofu offered him his chariot to carry him there. Eight horses pulled the chariot. One of them ran faster than birds …

Cool evening. Aboard the 934. Swinging east along Palm in I.B. Cruising past 10th, 11th, Florida. I’m craning my neck. “Know any good places to eat along Palm?” I ask the driver. “Like, good, but …

Nuts make you talk. Nuts make you cry. I’m chewing Thai nuts while Phon, Cheri, Lynn, and I talk on about the king of Thailand. King Bhumibol Adulyadej. He died six months ago, but for …

"Never?” “Never.” The three of us stand, jaws on the floor. Cameron, me, Lavonn. “Trust me,” says Eoghan, “Michaela has never eaten a hot dog in her life. Me neither.” We’re standing on a deck …

Gaslamp. Monday night. It’s a concert, for one. Sarah the street violinist has got me glued to her spot on the sidewalk at Fifth and F. Because, hey, she’s playing Umm Kulthum’s “Enta Omri” — …

“Well, look around you,” she says. “It’s real. Close your eyes and we could be in Tehran.”

"Siempre doy gracias al cielo de ser/ Tan afortunado! The Queen of Chiquibaby belts it out with Joan Sebastian. (“I always give thanks to heaven to be/ So fortunate!”) Everybody belts it out with her, …

"Attack of the Killer Pancake. Now Showing.” It’s this movie-house marquee in a painting that hangs above the welcome desk. I’m in this very ’60s coffee house. All stone, glass, and wood. Just got in …

Hmm. Chilaquiles. Coffee. Beer. Beer. My Sunday brunch. Not just me. Guy on my right is downing a pint of “Dank & Sticky IPA,” think he says. Couple on my left is full-chomp into steaks, …

Huh. A smoker. And smoking away right now. Not some guy — a wood-burning meat smoker. I’m loping up Indiana Street. Where it forks into Park and Robinson, and right beside a li’l ol’ bungalow, …

"Whooo! Whooo!” This is Mary Beth and her friend Jef. Waving their arms, pointing their fingers, whooping like werewolves, doing a dance in place here in row 32 at SDSU’s Viejas Arena. Confession: This is …

Lord. Trying to concentrate. Ten percent, double it, aargh! Sixteen bucks. And that’s just the tip. Total for this lunch, $105.97. I try not to let it show as I usher the two ladies out. …

I look at my chunk of bread. Just think, Napoleon ate this. Could have. Really. This bread. That’s how long it’s been going. Back in 1815, Battle of Waterloo and all that, this exact same …

"Hi! Welcome! Yókoso!” It’s this lady at the cashier desk. Love that about Japanese eateries. I know it’s just business, but welcomes like this kinda make you feel good. I had just hopped off the …

"Soju!” says my buddy Ernesto. “Au jus?” “No, soju. What’ve you been talking about, on and on? Soju? Korean sake? Then it clicks. ’Cause I have been going on about soju and how it’s gonna …

Water. Adam’s Ale. Hobo cocktail. Sky juice. Call it whatever, it’s one of the few things around that’s still actually free. And — hey hey! — today, water made it possible for me to finagle …

New year resolution time: gonna eat healthy. Gonna eat less. Gonna live on nuts and twigs. Or...eat Thai? ’Cause I keep seeing Thai cuisine on lists of the world’s healthiest diets. And especially my all-time …

Oh, boy. Fish looks up at me from the plate. His open mouth seems to be saying something. “Help!” “See that?” I ask Mary Beth. “Your imagination,” she says, “is running rampant. It’s a tilapia. …

"I need a novio!” This is Leona. She’s standing by as I chow into her lush carnitas, basically slow-cooked pork on a plate loaded with frijoles, grated cotija cheese, avocado slices, pico de gallo, and …

"Se habla English!!” That’s what it says on the menu I’m checking out, here in National City. It also says “Birrio de Chivo, Guadalajara-style, perfected in Tijuana and imported into the USA.” Perfect. Because tonight, …

"Sorry about your leader.” “Thank you. But it’s been a long time. Thirty years since I left.” Raul’s from Cuba. I want to ask what he feels about Fidel. But conversation drifts. We happen to …

I read somewhere that the reason you’re sad around Christmastime is because it’s a reminder of what you’ve lost since childhood: the belief that the world is a magical place that is interested in your …

They’re lining up to get in. The wedding party. Actually, not the wedding party. These are the aunts and uncles and parents who’ve come to sample dishes for their daughter’s wedding breakfast they’ve booked here …

We’re walking, walking — hold it! Swear this used to be a hair salon. But now we’re looking at a kind of Italian bar that spills out onto the sidewalk. I try to figure out …

"Uh, is that Russian you’re speaking?” Long silence. “Not Russian. Romanian.” The guy looks at me. “Excuse me for saying so, but next time you are not sure, it is better to suggest Czech, or …

"Midnight, dude.” This guy and I just happen to fall in step walking away from Father Joe’s, into the dusk of Imperial Avenue. “Midnight?” “Everybody’s waiting for midnight. Look around you,” he says. “There’s a …

"Go!” This is Carla. “You can make it!” Eight. Friday night. Tapped out. Cupboard’s bare. Broke, broke, pelado. Except, heh-heh, just saw an ad that says free hot dogs today and tonight only, at the …

This is your brain on veggies. I mean, look at it. You’d swear that’s what this was. It’s brain-shaped. It has all the wrinkles and bulges, the bike-helmet shape. Except it’s not a brain, it’s …

Am I seeing things? Like, I notice a gal at the entrance of a crowded eatery, speaking Japanese, and giving elaborate bowing farewells to two customers. We’re near 13th and Market. A sign says “BeShock …

One thing about East Village’s Quartyard: they have a good turnaround of food trucks. Tonight it’s this flashy Ford F-350 towing a trailer into the space off Market Street where people, dogs, and bars and …

"Milwaukee.” “San Diego.” “Milwaukee!” “Saan Diy-egow!” “’Scuse me. Ever hear of Miller? Schlitz? Pabst? Old Milwaukee? And you’re trying to tell me San Diego is the beer capital of America?” Did I mention Saf is …

Wow. Downtown. This scuzziest part of Broadway, around Fifth, is suddenly taking off. Guess the facelift started with the opening of the park at Horton Plaza, but now eateries are opening one after the other, …

The Eight Immortals are Crossing the Seas. They float by, riding paper mules, lotus flowers, flower baskets, aboard feather fans, storks, even a discarded crutch. People love the Eight Immortals. They represent prosperity and long …

"My latest review?” says Justin, “I got — see here? — 71,816 views.” OMG. He’s right. I’m staring at his phone. It shows stats from Yelp. He’s a Yelper. Has reviewed about 200 places he’s …

“This is the downtown of your dreams. All of the music and food, none of the parking hell.”

Hey, all this talk about how the rich are shutting out the rest of us? How come in the past ten years happy hour has increased by, oh, 3 zillion percent? No self-respecting luxury eatery …

“Now I have taken over this place. And that will soon be my mobile kebab business.”

Peppers as dinner? Never would’ve done this, except for one fact. It’s a Friday. Not a payday. Low on dough but high on peppers. I’ve just spent four bucks on “blistered red shishito peppers, in …

"Dobro vecé!” This is me, greeting Ismet Sahic beside his truck. It’s 8 p.m., and Quartyard, here at Park and Market, is Sunday-night mellow. A floodlit rack of people sits drinking and chatting at the …

Uh-oh. Last Chinese restaurant in Chinatown just bit the dust. Lucky Liu’s has closed. And before Unlucky Liu’s, Red Pearl came unstrung. Silver lining? Today, where Red Pearl used to be, I discover a brand-new …

“Our pita bread? We import it from Israel. U.S. pita is made from different flour.”

"Where are we?” I really want to know. Lord knows I’ve bounced by here often enough in the #30 bus. Mike and his lady Rachel and me and a dozen other people are sitting on …

Could there be classier places than the ones on this list? For sure. Cheaper? Yes. Cooler? Of course. But the places I find myself going back to have this human thing going on. They’re small, …