CALVIN'S KOREAN CHICKEN

Where Snooze feeds brunch crowds on rotation and Amardeen plays the full-service Lebanese card, Calvin's makes one bet: that gluten-free chicken can out-crunch its wheat-based competition. The kitchen nailed it. Reviews from celiacs read like religious conversions — people who've spent years settling for soggy substitutes suddenly confronted with batter that shatters on contact. Even the non-gluten-free crowd admits they can't tell the difference, which is the highest compliment a restriction-based concept can earn.

The **tender box** comes with two pieces, but they're aircraft-carrier-sized, enough to justify the higher wing prices that show up in multiple reviews. **Devil garlic sauce** plays medium-heat despite the name — order **Satan's Kiss** if you want actual capsaicin consequences. The coleslaw ditches mayonnaise for vinegar, which works as palate reset between rounds of dark meat.

This is a tiny operation — four people max if you're eating inside, outdoor seating that borrows space from the Holiday Court asphalt. It's takeout architecture that happens to allow dine-in, not the other way around. The spice levels run tame across the board, which frustrates heat-seekers but keeps families functional.

What separates Calvin's from the gluten-free virtue-signal spots: they didn't just swap flours and call it done. The crunch engineering required actual kitchen work, the kind that produces "superior" texture (their word, but the reviews back it up). Sauces carry gluten-free certification without tasting like compromise. Fries hold crispness instead of turning to mush under sauce weight.

Come solo or with one other person, order the tender box with whatever heat level you think you can handle then bump it up one notch, take it to the outdoor tables. It's Korean chicken technique filtered through San Diego's dietary-restriction awareness, executed in a space smaller than most people's garages.