La Palapa Authentic Mexican Food

While Clairemont's Asian spots go deep on specialized technique — bone broth simmered overnight, Osaka-style tonkatsu — La Palapa commits to the American-Mexican burrito playbook, then throws in curveballs. That **Hawaiian burrito** everyone raves about isn't some fusion trend; it's straight-up al pastor logic (pineapple sweetness cutting fatty pork) applied to whatever meat you want. The homemade tortillas pull their weight, which matters when you're engineering something this structurally ambitious.

The **steak and egg burrito** arrives cartoonishly large — the kind of thing you photograph before realizing you've ordered tomorrow's lunch too. It's not trying to be the best burrito in San Diego; it's trying to be the most burrito, and it succeeds. Taco Tuesday pulls the menu in a different direction: **fish tacos** and **carnitas tacos** that regulars stack next to leftover burrito halves without shame.

Pricing confusion runs through the reviews — online menus lag behind counter reality, so expect $15-$20 for the big builds. The dining room stays small and service stays lean, often just two people working the counter and sauce bar. Chairs get stacked when it's slow. This isn't a hang-out spot; it's a feed-the-neighborhood operation that happens to make its own tortillas.

The surf-and-turf burrito works if you're into that mashup energy. The sauce bar lets you calibrate heat and tang yourself, which matters more here than at places with dialed-in finishing sauces. Come for the volume and the oddball combinations, not for refined technique. La Palapa knows what it is: the go-to when you want something massive, a little weird, and ready fast.