Point Loma

Media dinners can be many things, but they are always bizarre. Pack a bunch of writers (and their sensitive egos) in a room, ply ‘em with booze, and bring on the food, and lots of it. In the best of times, these dinners are an exercise in feigned (and failed) restraint that end in self-loathing and a strong desire to put one’s stomach in a time machine to undo that second chocolate mousse bon bon that better judgement would have never allowed. The worst don’t usually get mentioned. In an industry where writers were once prized for their brutal honesty, it’s somehow become taboo to share any real criticism.

From a PR perspective, it’s ideal. Writers happily line up for the gavage tube, gorge themselves, and waddle out happy. When the food is good, there’s no harm in it, but when it’s bad and no one speaks up, that’s a problem. My goal as a food writer isn’t to score free meals, shake hands with the chef, and gush about how great everything was. I work for the readers, and my job is to tell the truth, even when it’s not pretty.

My last experience was such a disappointment that weeks later, it’s still nagging me, to the point that while the rest of my household happily slumbers, I’m sitting alone, in my cat-hair covered pyjamas, stewing. It’s time I told the truth: I am completely over the Malarkey empire and the proliferation of textile-named restaurants in San Diego.

Is there anything better than a chocolate chip cookie when you’re craving something sweet? For me, few things are as satisfying as a chewy cookie loaded with rich chunks of dark chocolate. I’ve been sampling chocolate chip cookies all over town, and so far, Con Pane’s dark chocolate cookies are the best.

Con Pane’s “Almost Grilled Cheese” relies on three basic ingredients: triple cream French brie, crumbled gorgonzola, and rosemary olive oil bread. Instead of being pan-fried in butter as with many grilled cheese sandwiches, it’s oven-roasted, which warms the cheeses and toasts the bread. The sharp profile of the cheeses makes it a potent, intense sandwich, so adding some roma tomatoes is highly encouraged.

I was expecting small, fluffy pillows of fried pastry, but the orange-scented beignets at Sessions Public are anything but. The golden brown orbs of dough are about twice the size of a typical doughnut hole and come with a rich chocolate sauce for dipping.