The Good
Japanese burritos. The fest's culinary all-star, for me, was the Truk-N-Yaki food truck's scrumptious shrimp- (or ribeye- or chicken-) and rice-filled wrap, available at the north end of 7th Street. How addictive were they? I went back for seconds Sunday night, three hours after stuffing my face with my first one. —Spencer Patterson
Recycling: Besides being readily available throughout the footprint, I love the message the festival sent about being environmentally conscious. For garbage, the appropriate bins were labeled "Landfill". Next to them, for cans, bottles, and paper, those bins were labeled, "Recycling is beautiful." —Jason Harris
The Huntridge Stage turnout for Sabriel. The elements aligned for her set—a relatively conflict-free spot on the schedule, shadows for escaping the late-afternoon sun and a grassy expense to stretch out upon—but it was the local soul singer's voice that kept her crowd in place, and focused on her brief but sharp performance. —SP
Green Flash Brewing's Hop Head Red. It tasted great, plus when you're spending $9 on a beer, 8.1% ABV is a nice bonus. If only I could have paired it with my Japanese burrito ... —SP
After I'd tried—and failed, repeatedly—to see the PostSecret exhibit at the Container Park’s geodesic dome, security was finally letting attendees in on Sunday. Inside, a slideshow of postcard confessions—likely taken from the upcoming The World of PostSecret book—was projected onto the dome’s interior in front of two rows of plush, reclined chairs. The darkened, air-conditioned experience provided some respite from the sun—which explained the line of people waiting to enter upon my exit—and the scribbled-on postcards shown ranged from hilarious to poignant to awkwardly brutal. —Mike Prevatt
The food-truck offerings were often more substantial and better tasting than the largely appetizer-sized restaurant offerings in the culinary villages—often for the same price. —MP
The Bad
Friends staying at the El Cortez told me they were given red wristbands to wear showing that they were guests at the hotel. If they wanted to have their friends visit them in their rooms, those people had to pay $25 for a wristband just to get upstairs. A steep and ridiculous price to pay just to hang out with your buds who are already paying to stay at the hotel. Is that the neighborhood spirit the El Cortez represents now? —JH
The Weird
Overheard leaving the festival: Party Girl: "I black out, but I never black out to the point where I go to the emergency room." Her friend: "Well, you do now." —JH