Best Place to Learn How to Use AI Agents While Eating Pizza
Pleasure Pizza (Downtown)
Santa Cruz has always been a place where unlikely worlds overlap. Surfboards and startups, artists and engineers, beach culture and tech curiosity mix in ways that feel completely natural here. At Pleasure Pizza downtown, those worlds don’t just occasionally collide — they’ve found a regular home.
Pleasure Pizza has been part of the Santa Cruz food scene since the 1990s, known for New York-style pizza and a laid-back Pacific Avenue atmosphere. But under the ownership of Sol Lipman, the place has quietly become something more: a community hub where independent business owners, UCSC students and AI-curious locals gather to figure out what this technology moment actually means for them.
Lipman hosts Pie Fi, a recurring series of AI-focused events that feel nothing like a conference panel and everything like the best kind of argument about ideas over food. Recently that meant 23 people gathered while Bookshop Santa Cruz owner Casey Coonerty Protti opened up her business — her systems, her challenges, her data — and challenged the room to imagine what AI could unlock for a 60-year-old local institution. By the end of the night the room had pitched subscription services and data tools that could save her staff hours daily. A hackathon with much better food.
Lipman also mentors UCSC students and sponsors community events that treat the shop as a platform for civic tech energy. The pizza itself is genuinely great — always a veggie and meat option by the slice, friendly counter service, zero pretension.
Sometimes a slice and the right host is all you need. Josh Logan
Best Restaurant that Makes You Double-Check You’re Still in Santa Cruz
Chocolat
Santa Cruz has plenty of great casual dining, but every now and then a restaurant makes you pause and wonder if you’ve wandered into a different city entirely. Chocolat, tucked along Pacific Avenue downtown, reliably has that effect.
The restaurant centers on French-inspired cuisine and a thoughtful wine program, bringing a style of dining that feels genuinely continental against the backdrop of a beach town. The menu builds around seafood, seasonal vegetables and rich sauces, with desserts that stay true to the restaurant’s name. Chocolate plays a starring role, and it earns it.
Part of the charm is atmosphere. Chocolat manages to feel refined without ever feeling intimidating — the rare combination that separates a good dining room from a great one. Couples celebrate anniversaries here. Friends meet for slow dinners and a second bottle. Visitors discover that Santa Cruz has a more sophisticated culinary side than they expected, and locals are reminded of the same thing.
Downtown Santa Cruz restaurants tend to lean casual and coastal, which makes Chocolat stand out even more. Walking in after a day at the beach or an afternoon on Pacific Avenue, the shift in mood is immediate. The space asks you to slow down, linger and actually sit with your meal rather than rush through it.
For a city that sometimes undersells its own depth, Chocolat is a quiet argument that Santa Cruz has always had more going on than the postcard suggests. Joshua Logan
Best Place to Drink Local History
Martinelli’s Company Store & Tasting Room
Martinelli’s has been pressing apples in Watsonville for more than 150 years. That’s not a marketing hook – it’s just the fact, and the Company Store & Tasting Room on Harvest Drive lets the fact speak for itself. The building sits next to the company’s production operations, part retail shop, part informal museum, and the combination works because neither side overwhelms the other.
Shelves hold the familiar eagle-embossed bottles that have been showing up on holiday tables for generations – seasonal flavors, limited releases and branded merchandise alongside the classics. The tasting bar is where most visits slow down. Guests can sample rotating selections of juice and sparkling cider, compare blends and learn how the company sources its apples from the farms surrounding Watsonville. Photo displays and short exhibits trace the company’s growth from a small local producer into a nationally recognized name without losing the thread back to the Pajaro Valley.
The atmosphere is unhurried. Locals stop in before the holidays or to pick up a bottle worth giving. Out-of-town visitors fold it into a Central Coast day without needing to commit much time. Staff know the products and the history and don’t oversell either one. What makes it work is the absence of performance. The Martinelli’s Company Store & Tasting Room is a shop that happens to carry more than a century and a half of agricultural context on its shelves. You can learn something, taste something or just grab a case on your way out. Joshua Logan
Best Pie Worth the Drive
Gizdich Ranch Pie Shop & Deli
The drive into Gizdich Ranch does some of the work for you. Orchards and open fields line the approach, and by the time you park you already have a reasonable sense of what kind of place it is. The family established the farm in the 1930s. The Pie Shop & Deli came later, housed in a rustic building that fits the property without trying to prettify it.
The menu stays focused: pies, sandwiches, simple lunch items. Gizdich is known for fruit pies, and olallieberry gets mentioned most by regulars and first-timers alike. The case rotates with the season – apple, berry and other varieties moving in and out depending on what the ranch and the surrounding Pajaro Valley are producing. Frozen pies are available for people who want to take something home and finish it themselves.
During harvest, you can pick berries, apples or pumpkins before walking in for a slice. That sequence – field to fork in the span of an afternoon – isn’t something you can fake, and Gizdich doesn’t have to. Picnic tables outside fill up with families, cyclists and road-trippers who are in no hurry. The ranch still operates as a working farm first. The Pie Shop & Deli exists as an extension of that, not the other way around. The pies are good because the fruit is good. It’s a simple proposition, and it holds up. Joshua Logan
Best Taco that Resets Your Standards
Tacos El Jerry
Tacos El Jerry is on East Lake Avenue, a corridor built for people who live and work in Watsonville rather than for people passing through. The restaurant is small. Counter service, a modest dining area, a kitchen that doesn’t stop moving. The regulars know what they want before they get to the front.
The menu runs the classics: al pastor, carne asada, carnitas and rotating specials. Warm tortillas, chopped onion, cilantro, lime, salsa on the side. The toppings don’t vary much because they don’t need to. Portions are honest for the price, which makes ordering three or four different meats across as many tacos the obvious move for anyone who hasn’t been before – and for most people who have.
The kitchen moves fast without cutting corners. Busy lunch hours and slower evenings both get the same result, which is rarer than it should be. That consistency is exactly what turns a taco spot into a regular stop. In Watsonville, Mexican food isn’t a niche – it’s central to how the city eats. The bar is high and largely invisible to outsiders who aren’t paying attention. Tacos El Jerry operates inside that context without calling attention to it. No signs explaining authenticity. No social media moment engineered into the setup. Just tacos worth coming back for, which is the oldest and most reliable recommendation in the book.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ Joshua Logan
Best Place to Find a Hidden Labyrinth / Fairy Circle
Inside Wingspread, Near Aptos
This one is going to be intentionally loose. Because to find a hidden labyrinth / fairy circle, you gotta be in a mindset that’s more “go with the flow discovery” than “Google maps destination.” But here’s the gist: get yourself to the intersection of Mar Vista and Searidge in Aptos. Pause to enjoy the cute community garden at the corner of Cedar and Poplar, then hop on the railroad tracks heading toward Capitola. After a while (remember, keep it loose…trust your instincts), you’ll see a well-worn path that peels off to the left. Take it. After another while, look for a little path that creeps off to the right. Take it. And that’s when the magical labyrinth appears, replete with rock-balancing pedestals, a makeshift altar at the center with intriguing offerings and one of the most peaceful, serene settings you can possibly imagine. Meditate. Chant. Dance. Howl. Do your thing. When you’re done, you can head back the way you came and then hit Seacliff for Marianne’s Ice Cream, Castelli’s Deli or Manuel’s for Mexican food. But if you’re feeling especially adventurous, you can take the path out of Wingspread toward the ocean and hike down to New Brighton State Beach – then make your way back to Seacliff along the shoreline. Heads up: that trail down is rugged and steep in some spots, but if you’re reasonably fit and wearing the right footwear (i.e. not flip flops!) it’s very doable and the experience is worth it. Joan Hammel
Best Beach Walk that Turns Into a Cocktail (Or Two)
Seacliff State Beach to Pixie Deli & Good Eats
So you and a friend are going to just “take a walk on the beach.” Fresh air. Get some sun and some steps in. Maybe solve a few of the world’s problems while you’re at it. You come down the Beachgate stairs near the Cement Ship and fall into an easy pace. Along the way: pelicans cruise by at eye level, kids make a run for it and still get their pants soaked, dogs are on their fifth game of “one last throw,” and there’s a rotating cast of golden-hour IG photo shoots. Very wholesome.
Then the shift happens. Someone mentions being a little hungry. Someone else casually notes that Pixie Deli is right up the way. No one even misses a beat – you just hang a left up to the little walkway and cross over the river like this was always part of the plan. Five minutes later you’re on the patio with a canned cocktail or a chilled bottle and something yummy to nibble on. There’s sand on your ankles and your sunglasses never came off. The ocean you were just walking beside is now your view. Someone sighs and says, “dang…how lucky are we?”
You do eventually walk back — slightly slower and a lot chattier. Some of the best beach walks are about the exercise. This one is about that AND the 2-drink upgrade. Joan Hammel
Best Tibetan Detour (Without the Jet Lag)
Land of Medicine Buddha
As you pull off Prescott Rd., within minutes you are hit with a thought: wait, wasn’t I just at Taqueria Los Gordos on Soquel? How did I get here? The parking lot looks like any other trailhead. Until you notice the enormous prayer wheel — the one everyone spins at least once, even if they’re not entirely sure of the protocol.
The trail starts out like any other Santa Cruz hike — redwoods, filtered light, pine needles crunching under your feet — and then you round a corner and there’s a huge white stupa rising out of the trees, prayer flags strung between trunks, and scenery that looks like it belongs on a different continent.
It’s not subtle. It stops you mid-sentence the first time you see it. You keep walking, but now you’re scanning for the next surprise because each one reveals something special: shrines tucked into the hillside, complete with photos, coins and curious offerings, more flags and prayer wheels. There’s a sense of being transported. Regular hikers and retreat guests pass each other without much talking. Everyone moves a little slower, like the solemnity of the place is recalibrating us.
The mind-blowing part isn’t just the setting — it’s the proximity. Five minutes ago you were in traffic on Soquel, thinking about lunch. Now you’re standing in front of a 39-foot stupa in the middle of an enchanted forest trying to process the fact that this is maybe 12 minutes from your house. It’s the most reliable way to leave town without actually leaving town. No jet lag. No plane ticket. Just a short drive and the slightly unbelievable realization that this spectacular, spiritual, awe-inspiring place exists right here in our gorgeous redwood-filled backyard. Joan Hammel
Best Dog-Park Without Being a Dog Park
Beer Thirty Patio — Soquel
Dogs of all kinds are all over the place. The talking is just as likely to be human-to-dog as human-to-human. You probably know the dog’s name but not their owner’s. It seems like every other person has a collapsible water bowl hanging from a D-clip on their belt loop.
You came to meet friends for a drink and now you are on your knees saying “hi buddy” to a lovely Golden Retriever who is even more charming than its owner.
Entire conversations happen about age, breed, personality and where they were rescued from. No one asks what anyone does for work. No one cares about politics right now.
You’re holding a beer in one hand and scratching a stranger’s dog with the other. Also: the beer list is excellent, the food is genuinely good and the people behind the bar are as friendly as the dogs — which is saying something.
That’s it. That’s the whole place. You and your dog should go. Joan Hammel
Best Place to Watch the Ocean Get Eaten by the Fog
Natural Bridges — West Cliff
Everyone talks about the green flash at sunset. Meanwhile, out at the west end of Natural Bridges, the ocean is getting eaten by the fog in the middle of the day.
You just wanted some fresh air and a scenic walk, when suddenly the marine layer slides in low and the horizon starts to go.
Then it keeps eating. The far end of the cliff loses its edge. The next stretch of walkway blurs. It’s working its way toward you in slow, steady mouthfuls.
This is when you can tell who lives here. Locals reach into backpacks without breaking stride — flannel, scarf, windbreaker, the emergency beanie that lives there year-round. Visitors, here for a perfect July beach day, stand suddenly shivering in shorts and tank tops watching their outdoorsy afternoon vanish along with the view. “Should we hit a wine bar?” someone mumbles, picking up the pace back to the car.
By now, the ocean is gone. The cliffs are gone. All of West Cliff is wrapped in gray and your walk back is accompanied by a damp chill.
No sunset. No countdown. No flash. Just the vague sense that you can still hear a slight munching sound as the marine layer finishes its meal. Joan Hammel
Best Live Music Venue Disguised as a Coffee Shop
Ugly Mug — Soquel
The two guys I’m going with want to get there early because they know what’s up. We check in with Jackson Emmer — who, in addition to handling the tickets, is also, casually, one of the night’s performers. Terry Klein, the other performer, is setting up next to him. Guitars come out of cases. Rows of chairs are already in place. We claim three stools in the back.
The regulars order a drink, grab a seat and settle in. They’ve been looking forward to this all week. The first-timers — like me — aren’t sure what to expect at a show like this. “Show” feels like a generous word for something this small — maybe 40 people — but that’s the whole point. I’m close enough to see the yellow guitar pick in Jackson’s hand.
It goes on for two and a half hours, but it doesn’t feel like that. There’s time for another round. Time to realize everyone else knew exactly how good this was going to be. Time for the first-timer to become the most delighted person in the room.
On Valentine’s Day, it was accidentally perfect. A packed little room in Soquel with love songs, death songs, drinking songs, harmonies. I had stumbled into something awesome that was exactly what I didn’t know I needed.
Someone mentions that The Devil Makes Three played here once. Not as trivia, just as confirmation that this tiny coffee shop has always doubled as a great music venue.
Nobody rushes out when it’s over. The room holds on to what just happened. Joan Hammel
Best Hike that Keeps Changing its Mind
Cotoni–Coast Dairies National Monument
To get there you drive up Highway 1 past Davenport, so it’s worth heading out before the Westside wakes up — especially on a weekend. The turn onto Cement Road comes right as the highway hypnosis kicks in, so keep a heads up. Who knew this was back here? Pretty much no one. Cotoni–Coast Dairies, one of the county’s newest public coastal landscapes, opened just last year.
Entrance is free. A big gravel parking lot awaits. Bathrooms – check. Dogs everywhere — on leash, joyfully losing their minds. The hike had barely started when the landscape began switching personalities. A wide, low emerald green pasture with cows so close we could hear them chewing, a steady climb, and suddenly a full 180-degree ocean reveal that had everyone reaching for their cameras.
The hillsides went yellow with wildflowers. I was glad someone pulled out a field guide. Our whole group crouched on the dirt trail trying to figure out what we were seeing. Then the path slipped into redwoods — the kind that, even as a California native, still make me stop and stare. Then cool, shadowy, slate-gray rock underfoot for a bit. And five minutes later we were at a creek with a picnic table, pine needle carpeting and a loose congregation of hikers and dusty, happy dogs.
We turned around feeling satisfied — we’d already done several hikes in one and it had only been a couple of hours.
By the time we headed back, the Westside was fully switched on and traffic moved slowly. Which was fine. We were too blissed out on ocean views, hiking endorphins and wildflower photos to care. This was when we decided to stop, grab brunch and turn the whole thing into a day. Joan Hammel
Best Chef. Full Stop.
Brad Briske — HOME, Soquel
HOME is a converted house on a quiet stretch of Soquel, which makes what happens in the kitchen feel almost unreal. After three meals here, this is no longer a discovery — it’s a decision. Brad Briske is cooking at a level that would hold its own in San Francisco, Las Vegas or New York, and he’s doing it in a space that feels like where someone grew up.
Nothing plays it safe. The beef cheek is the kind of dish that silences a table mid-bite. The cauliflower arrives and immediately makes you rethink everything you thought that word meant. Over the holidays there was a pumpkin pie that arrived completely reimagined. All the delicious flavors were there, just not in the shape I expected. Briske discarded the format — and everyone’s eyes rolled back in food ecstasy.
At some point I stopped analyzing the plates and began wondering where the imagination behind them comes from. It may lie in Briske’s close relationships with local farmers and a menu built around the seasonal ingredients they bring in. Wherever it originates, the result is unmistakable: the plates arriving at the table come from a chef working at the absolute top of his craft.
When I met him — briefly, sitting on the patio taking a quick break – he was gracious, almost shy, quietly deflecting my over-the-top fan-girl praise that he had fully earned. That humility made the whole experience feel even more special: destination-level food, here in Santa Cruz, minus the ego.
The menu shifts constantly, the creative force behind it is relentless, and the consistency across multiple visits seals the deal. Briske is doing the kind of cooking that changes what a town is known for.
Getting a table now takes planning. Santa Cruz has noticed. Joan Hammel
Best Sport’s Bar that’s a Tardis
The Blue Lagoon
Downtown Santa Cruz is mutating, like a scene from Dark City, the skyline is constantly changing. Every night, the buildings shift. Is it gentrification, housing desperation or just a bad idea gestation? One thing remains the same: the constant—The Blue Lagoon. It’s two things, if you include Streetlight Records, but The Lagoon is the multiverse’s weirdest sports bar. Yes, the baseball games are on. But so is goth night, DJ night, disco night, metal night, punk night and the longest running free weekly comedy show in California.
Once inside you can feel the humming of temporal energy and the psionic vibes bouncing off the walls. Relax with a cold beer, as your personality phases in and out of timelines, while your favorite team scores a basket. Hooray.
Outside of The Blue Lagoon, the sledge hammering and unending construction remains, but inside you can laugh in a reality tunnel while focusing on “gooooooaaaaaaals”. Come see the Macho Man-inspired antics of The Randy Savages, the comedic pandering on Tuesday with comedian Paulie Escobedo. Somebody is carrying around an owl. Is that Christian Slater? Why am I dancing? Why aren’t I dancing? If there is such a thing as reality, how am I enjoying disco this much? I’ve never believed I had a home. This is home? Home. DNA
