San Diego, which of course in German means…


After Slater’s, we never made it back out. Thursday night was intended to be a sushi trip to Ra, but beer and wine impaired our collective decision making and shackled us to the hotel lounge. My prosciutto and feta flatbread pizza sufficed, offsetting the plethora of Stone IPA that I imbibed.

The banquet spread at the San Diego Marriott Marquis Harbor was good. Yesterday’s lunch was an Asian themed buffet. I opted for the napa cabbage chicken salad in sesame ginger vinaigrette. The previous day featured a braised beef brisket that was pretty nice. Dinner last evening was free range chicken breast with green beans and rice pilaf — an upgraded rubber chicken. Dessert was the highlight: a trio of chocolate desserts including a spooned chocolate mouse, an espresso chocolate petit fours and a mini flour less chocolate cake with a white chocolate strand the looked like a piece of lemongrass.

Yes, I came to San Diego and did not eat any Mexican food. It seems like a wasted trip to that end. I’m heartbroken by the passing of this trip without a shot at the In-N-Out Burger. I can’t justify the 40-minute one way cab ride from the hotel to the drive thru (try expensing that at a nonprofit…$50 in cab fare for a $10 order).

An eater in a new city is drawn to the local flavor, not just the best or easiest. I got that in Slater’s 50/50 and we might still have a chance at that today before our flight. Eating in a new city is about finding the story to tell to your friends, on your blog, or to the people at the conference that went to the first restaurant they saw or ate all week at the hotel. It’s about the discovery. The quest for a half-bacon, half-beef burger. The potential trip to Hash House A Go Go.

That’s the difference between an eater and a foodie.


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