San Diego on My Plate: A Food Adventure in Quality and Health
A business trip turned into a lesson on eating well
My recent business trip to San Diego turned into something more than networking, keynotes, and sessions about AI and ChatGPT. It became a food adventure.
Business travel usually tempts you to grab whatever is fast and nearby, but that’s never been my style. Before I even left, I fretted about how I would eat. I wanted to pack my kitchen with me, but the best I could manage were a few homemade granola nut bars and some nuts. The rest I would have to improvise.
You might wonder why worry. San Diego is full of great restaurants. True, but no matter where I travel, meals often feel more elaborate than what I make in the Fischer Kitchen: too many sauces, too much salt, too many extras. That includes my own hometown of New York City.
My preference is to find the best ingredients, prepare them simply, and let the food shine.
Since I’d be in San Diego for over a week, I set a rule for myself: each meal needed to include a vegetable, a protein, a healthy fat, and a carbohydrate. No processed foods, of course. With that, I leaned into the adventure: exploration, discovery, challenge, risk, and finally, immersion.
Exploration
I arrived Monday with the afternoon free to plan a bite out after the welcome reception. I’d read about Rustic Root, so the concierge booked me a table.
The menu felt like many in my NYC neighborhood, but I was after an experience.
So I set off through the Gaslamp Quarter, past bars, restaurants, and locals out for the night. Using my ChatGPT app as a guide, I aimed for a Mediterranean spot called Callie. Along the way I met a young couple from Chicago who moved to San Diego. He worked in real estate, she in banking, and he insisted I try an Italian place called Decore.
My heart was set on Callie, but when we arrived it was closed.
“Now you have to try Decore,” he said, explaining he’d eaten there seven nights in a row when he first moved to San Diego. It was late, so I agreed.
The focaccia was delicious, though different from the recipe Francesca, my friend in Rome, had given me, and the salmon was excellent. I also tried their Caesar salad, a favorite of mine.
Still, Decore was a discovery, and now I have a good go-to Italian spot when I come back. Who knows, maybe I’ll one day go there seven nights in a row too.
Discovery
During a session on AI’s potential, a woman from the travel industry raised her hand. With a thick Russian accent, she asked if Google and ChatGPT could both list the same restaurant as number one in San Diego.
Pressed for context, she explained: a cab driver had recommended a restaurant. She Googled it, and then saw it top-ranked on ChatGPT. She was convinced Siri had been eavesdropping.
The instructor smiled, launched into a comment about our interconnected world, and called for a short break.
I leaned over and asked, “What’s the name of the place?”
“Pomegranate,” she said. “The cab driver told me, then I Googled it. Russian food is the best. This one is Georgian-Russian.” Later, when the session was over, I jumped into a Lyft. Not knowing San Diego’s streets, I second-guessed the driver the whole way.
Finally, we pulled up to what looked like a gentrified urban area with the Pomegranate restaurant wedged between Gilly’s House of Cocktails and Flavors of East Africa. Diners lingered at their tables outside under a bold sign.
Perfect, I thought.
Starving, I ordered roasted eggplant salsa, chicken dumplings, a bowl of borscht (I’d never had this, even when I visited Russia many years ago), and the Babushka’s Surprise (the answer is later in this story, let this one be a surprise for you too). That’s what happens when you’re alone: you order as if someone else is coming.
This was the eggplant. I skipped the sour cream on the side.
My someone, Phil, was home writing his book on AI and recovering from surgery. Well, I thought, he might as well join me virtually. Thank goodness for FaceTime. This is what 22 years of marriage gets you: a spouse who answers your umpteenth call with a smile, even when you’re eating out without him.
When everything arrived, he said, “Enjoy the meal and call me back. And somebody left you a message on the wall.”
The dumplings melted in my mouth, and the borscht brimmed with tender beef and vegetables. It was rich, comforting, almost too much. One bowl would last me a year.
Here the sour cream added to it melting in my mouth. They were a splurge!
Halfway through this wonderful meal, another conference attendee appeared. We swapped stories, enjoyed the food, and brought Phil back for a parting good wish. Then it was time to go. He had to catch a flight home, and I needed to head back to the hotel.
That night reminded me that meals are rarely just about food. They’re about interesting people, stories, chance learning and sometimes a leap of faith in a Lyft to an unfamiliar street.
Challenge
Not all was smooth sailing when it came to food. I wasn’t sure how I’d survive eating out nonstop, since I was staying on for a few days after the conference to tour in San Diego and on Coronado Island.
I don’t eat out often at home, and I didn’t want to start here. The hotel’s convenience shop, Market & Supply, didn’t help. More than half the shelves were filled with processed foods. All I could think was no.
Articles warning about ultraprocessed foods seem endless these days. I skip the noise and the processed food wherever I can and stick to what works for me: eat real food, keep things in moderation, and take a walk. Simple choices, but they add up.
But I didn’t find the selection very inspiring. I even mentioned to the staff that an update could help. There were a few decent options, like oatmeal and some prepared meals with dressings on the side, but overall it was limited and probably not something the staff could change anyway.
Later, when I stopped in for a banana, I saw a mom buying Lucky Charms for her child, and it struck me that there just weren’t many better alternatives available.
That was it. I went upstairs, logged on, added the Hilton San Diego Bayfront address, and placed a Whole Foods order. The hotel was very accommodating, even sending up a small refrigerator.
Soon I had lettuce, tomatoes, hummus, salmon, dairy-free yogurt, and turkey sandwiches on multigrain bread. Even in a hotel room, you can create a bit of home with an Amazon account.
All set.
Risk / Uncertainty
Or so I thought.
On my first tourist day, after cruising along the bay, marveling at the bridge and the Navy’s massive ships, lunch was in order.
From the boat I had spotted The Fish Market, so I strolled over, passing the statue of the sailor and nurse locked in their famous WWII kiss. Peace in San Diego, no worries, just lunch ahead.
But at the door, a sign gave me pause:
“Certain foods and beverages sold or served here can expose you to chemicals including acrylamide in many fried or baked foods, and mercury in fish; receipt paper may contain Bisphenol S (BPS). These chemicals are known to the State of California to cause cancer, birth defects, or other reproductive harm.”
Not exactly an appetizing welcome. I almost turned around, but not knowing what else was nearby, I went in.
After some back-and-forth with the waitress, we both agreed that most fish today contain some mercury and some microplastics (depending on many factors). Ultimately, I landed on a Caesar salad with chicken, and it was delicious. And again, there it was: my default order.
From there, I wandered through the Midway, the retired aircraft carrier, wondering how they managed to feed thousands of meals to the crew every day. I explored the inside for a few hours until I was worn out, then headed up to the flight deck to rest for a bit.
I dozed on a bench and woke up with a nasty burn across my face - cherub cheeks like Santa (ack! I typically avoid the sun like the plague). Not great, especially since I’d left my hat behind at Pomegranate.
Immersion
I bought another hat but didn’t need it right away. Dinner at Callie meant quick Lyft hops and no sun exposure, at least I hoped so.
By now I was starting to understand San Diego a bit better. I wasn’t sure if I was a Padres fan yet, but I felt fully immersed in my own food scene unfolding night after night.
When Callie came up on my list, I was excited. The menu was eclectic, and like at Pomegranate, Phil joined virtually for part of the meal. I wished he could have been there in person to taste dishes like smoky babaghanoush with pita, grilled summer beans with Meyer lemon, and Mediterranean octopus with roasted garlic.
I got to chatting with the waiter, who offered to bring over the chef. Donning his apron, Chef Travis Swikard stopped by and explained that freshness and high quality are literally in his backyard in San Diego.
The proof was in the tomatoes: soft, luscious, and without bitterness. He said he handpicks them, along with watermelon, to ensure every plate is exceptional. His involvement in every detail showed.
His philosophy is simple: start with excellent ingredients, and the food speaks for itself. Music to my ears. That’s exactly what I strive for, though I know my results are nowhere near those of a trained chef. Still, caring about quality is something we can all do.
I left impressed. And I’m not the only one. Callie is listed in the Michelin Guide under the Bib Gourmand category, which highlights restaurants offering high-quality food at a good value.
From there I headed to Coronado Island and the Hotel Del Coronado, famous for hosting dignitaries and for its starring role in Some Like It Hot with Marilyn Monroe. Known simply as ‘The Del,’ this wooden Victorian beach resort opened in 1888 and is now a National Historic Landmark
I could have spent hours learning more about the place, but my focus was the beach, the pool and food with some work sprinkled in between (that trails me wherever I go!). The restaurants offered everything from intricate, tempting meals with maybe more calories than I wanted, to lighter fare.
In the end, the Ocean Club perfectly fit my style for its laid back atmosphere. And, like the other restaurants on the property, they were happy to accommodate all my requests for dressings and sauces on the side, so I could enjoy a Caesar salad and chicken paillard just the way I’d like them at home.
I had to laugh. By then, Caesar salad wasn’t just a “safe harbor” dish, it was anchoring me meal to meal across the city.
And not to forget the Babuska’s Surprise from Pomegranate - that was an apple stuffed with dried apricot, plum, and honey, baked until soft, with a small melting scoop of ice cream on the side. This one I’m going to make at home, minus the ice cream.
What I learned
In the end, the meals reminded me that with a little care and curiosity, eating well can travel well. So did my original hat, which I picked up after the private tour at the San Diego Zoo where, to my surprise, food turned out to be a highly relevant topic too. More on that in a future Fischer Kitchen article.
Whether it was borscht in a hidden spot, Caesar salad as a steady anchor, or a chef’s tomatoes picked that morning, the lesson that bubbled up for me on my San Diego food adventure was clear: when quality leads the way, great meals become memories and health follows close behind.
