Having your parents visit you after college is the closest you’ll ever get to true joy in your adult life. Let’s be real, your life isn’t that luxurious when you have to share an apartment with a bunch of ants and a weird guy who works remote. When the parents roll into town you take off work, don’t pay for a single thing, and someone is always down to hug you. Parents also love food, because they all have this insane belief that we don’t get enough to eat when they’re not around. We’re not complaining, but these are the same parents that say they read this blog, so wtf Mom? You KNOW we’re eating good.
Every Babe’s parents are a little different when it comes to grub, but they all love to drink. And drink we did. Join us on a culinary journey through San Diego with Mom and Dad’s credit card.
The first free meal after months of “making it work” is never quite appreciated the way it should be. After picking my parents up from the airport (jk Uber) we went to the one spot I knew would give quantity as well as quality. Parkhouse Eatery is a University Heights staple that never disappoints. With their expansive menu, I knew there would be enough diversity for myself and my mother, as well as my father’s delicate palate. To start, my mom opted for the mimosa flight “appetizer” because the Apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree. I was feeling especially healthy (hungover) so I began with the Chilaquiles before moving onto my Mother’s Southwest Crab Benedict. Both great options for anyone trying to ignore questions about your future.
My mother once took me to a place which served a “taco” with coleslaw on it. Not only was that the worst day of my life, it set the bar for what she considers a taco extremely low. I knew immediately that I would take my parents to Kiko’s. The Babes once lived extremely close to Kiko’s and although my liver hurts thinking about it, those were great times. We got a few different tacos to share and they loved every minute of it. What can I say? A Babe knows how to eat.
Since I moved out my parents decided to move somewhere untouched by their favorite food, sushi. I receive countless complaints about their subpar options and the absurd prices they have to pay for some nigiri. Hearing this the wheels in my head started turning, and for those who wait around for us to actually write something, I knew the perfect place. Sushi Ota is the first place a Babe will suggest when they’re not handling the check. The fish is fresh, the door people are sassy, and the whole atmosphere feels like something out of a Japanese drama. We got a ton of different dishes, but the night really wouldn’t have been complete without my Father embarrassing me by ordering not one, but two California Rolls. California Rolls are the Taco Bell of sushi, but my dad is kind of the Taco Bell of dads.
Mariscos El Pulpo
Stop #2 of the white parents eat taco’s tour was a surprise for this Babe. I wanted to take my parents to Barrio Logan because well, I was really running out of neighborhoods. We stopped in Mariscos El Pulpo on a fluke and happened upon the best tacos of the trip. If you have a car get in it and go to Mariscos right now. The garlic shrimp tacos were so good I could hardly hear my dad talk about how I should move home. The Coronas didn’t hurt either.
For our farewell dinner, and my last moments enjoying food not prepared in a microwave, we went to Enoteca Adriano. This restaurant is a diamond in the rough world that is Pacific Beach. For a beach town that only serves food as a mechanism to sell alcohol, you’ll rarely find yourself in a sit-down Italian place like this. In fact, I have found myself in one other Italian place in the area, and that was definitely just a drug front. My parents ordered the Ravioli Rossi and Polpette E Pasta, while I got the seafood special on black squid ink pasta. Everything was amazing as usual and the conversation about my finances was kept to a minimum. The perfect ending to a perfect 10 pounds heavier trip.