After nearly two decades as a pharmacist, Javid Javdani traded a stable career for a small grocery store in San Diego’s Clairemont neighborhood. What emerged was Balboa Market, an international destination built on the conviction that a market can be a cultural meeting point, not just a place to buy food.
Javid Javdani is the owner of Balboa Market, an international grocery in San Diego’s Clairemont neighborhood. A pharmacist for eighteen years before entering retail, he transformed a modest storefront into a destination stocked with goods from numerous countries, serving customers across the city. He holds a Doctor of Pharmacy from the University of the Pacific.
What drew you away from pharmacy after nearly twenty years?
It was less about leaving pharmacy and more about being pulled toward something I could build myself. I had a fulfilling career at Kindred Healthcare, where I was Director of Pharmacy, overseeing operations and focusing on patient care. The work was demanding and rewarding, but I found myself drawn to the idea of creating something outside those walls. When I acquired a small grocery store in Clairemont, it was a leap. I was walking away from nearly two decades in a profession I understood to enter an industry I had never worked in. The decision carried real risk, and I felt that uncertainty every day at the start. But I believed the discipline and customer focus I had built in pharmacy would translate, and they did.
You were born in Iran and moved to the United States in 1982, shortly after the revolution. How did those early years shape the way you work?
I arrived as a young immigrant in a country that was entirely unfamiliar. I worked at a car wash, a gas station, restaurant shifts, whatever I could find to support myself. I learned English and absorbed American culture largely on the job, one shift at a time. Those years were exciting and daunting in equal measure. They taught me hard work and adaptation not as slogans but as lessons you learn through repetition. That period shaped everything that came after. When I later pursued chemistry at Cal Poly Pomona and then my pharmacy degree at the University of the Pacific, I carried that same mindset: you figure it out as you go, and you don’t wait for perfect conditions to start.
What did you do to prepare yourself for running a grocery store when you had no retail experience?
I spent countless hours researching market trends and customer preferences before I trusted myself to make the bigger decisions. I built relationships with suppliers from scratch, which had no equivalent in my years behind a pharmacy counter. I also sought out experienced entrepreneurs and mentors for guidance. I treated their advice as a way to shortcut some of the harder lessons. What ultimately carried me through was trust in a fairly specific vision: there was demand in San Diego for authentic international products, and I wanted to build a market around community rather than volume alone. I stayed close to that vision and adjusted the details as I learned from missteps along the way.
What do people consistently get wrong about your work?
People assume running a grocery store is straightforward, that you stock shelves and ring up customers. What they miss is that every product you carry is a decision, and every decision is a conversation with your community. When we started, we served San Diego’s Persian community. But I noticed rising demand for products tied to other cultures and cuisines, so we expanded into a broader international selection. That shift required constant attention to what people were asking for, what they were trying for the first time, and what they kept coming back for. It’s not passive work. You’re reading feedback, adjusting supply chains, and building trust one interaction at a time.
What they miss is that every product you carry is a decision, and every decision is a conversation with your community.
How do you decide what to stock when you’re serving so many different cuisines and communities?
I listen. I watch what people ask for, and I pay attention to what they reach for when they’re browsing. On weekends, I visit other markets and food festivals around San Diego. That practice doubles as inspiration for what eventually lands on our shelves. I also stay in touch with suppliers, and I’ve learned to trust the patterns. If three customers ask for the same product in a week, I take that seriously. We once had an employee mistakenly stock an entire row with a rare, intensely aromatic spice. A well-known local chef spotted it, and word moved through the food community within hours. Chefs and enthusiasts arrived from across the city. We gained new customers that week and a burst of attention we hadn’t planned for. It reminded me that curiosity rewards itself, and that our job is to make room for it.
Can you describe a mistake you made early on that changed how you operate?
A customer once raised concerns about the freshness of our produce. I could have dismissed it, but I didn’t. I reviewed our supply chain and put stricter quality controls in place. That change led to more consistent offerings, and it taught me to treat complaints as information rather than attacks. I make a point of thanking people who offer constructive criticism now. It’s one of the most valuable things a customer can give you, and most businesses don’t act on it quickly enough.
You’ve said adaptability is the trait most responsible for your success. Where does that come from?
It comes from my first years in the United States and from the ongoing demands of retail. Both require you to adjust to circumstances you can’t control. In pharmacy, you’re managing complex operations, tracking regulatory and clinical requirements, and staying attuned to patient needs. In retail, you’re doing the same thing, but the variables change faster. A supplier falls through. A product sells out in a day. A customer asks for something you’ve never heard of. You adapt or you fall behind. I trace that mindset to five values: passion, creativity, respect, accountability, and engagement. Underlying all of them is a simpler rule: treat others the way you want to be treated. That philosophy has built the kind of relationships that keep a neighborhood market running.
A supplier falls through. A product sells out in a day. A customer asks for something you’ve never heard of. You adapt or you fall behind.
What keeps you motivated after the initial risk has paid off?
The same thing that motivated me as a pharmacist: the chance to help people, translated now into stocking a shelf rather than filling a prescription. I see it in small moments. A customer finds a product that reminds them of home. Someone tries an unfamiliar ingredient for the first time and comes back for more. Hearing shoppers describe how much they value the range and authenticity of what we carry reinforces that Balboa Market functions as something closer to a site of cultural exchange than a conventional grocery business. That sense of purpose is what keeps me focused on expanding and refining our offerings.
Is there a belief you held early in your career that you’ve since let go of?
I used to think stability was the highest goal. In pharmacy, I had a well-regarded position, security, a clear path forward. But I’ve learned that stability can become a ceiling if you let it. Walking away from that career was terrifying, and the uncertainty was among the hardest obstacles I’ve faced. But it taught me that the fear of failure is often worse than failure itself. You learn more from taking the risk than you do from avoiding it. I still value stability, but I don’t let it stop me from pursuing something that matters more.
What advice would you give someone thinking about making a similar leap?
Do your research, but don’t wait for perfect conditions. I spent countless hours learning about the industry before I made the move, but there was a limit to what I could know in advance. At some point, you have to trust your vision and start. Find mentors who have done what you’re trying to do, and listen to their advice. Build relationships early, whether that’s with suppliers, customers, or other business owners. And be ready to adjust. Your initial plan will change, and that’s not failure. It’s how you learn what actually works.
How do you think about competition in a city with so many grocery options?
I don’t focus on competing with every grocery store in San Diego. I focus on being the best at what we do, which is offering authentic international products and creating a space where people feel welcomed. There are plenty of places to buy groceries. There are fewer places where you can find a specific spice your grandmother used, or where you can discover an ingredient you’ve never heard of and get advice on how to use it. We’ve built a reputation around that, and it’s kept customers coming back even when there are more convenient options closer to home.
What role does your background in pharmacy still play in how you run the market?
Pharmacy taught me precision and attentive service. You can’t afford mistakes when you’re managing patient care and complex operations, and that standard carried over. I approach inventory, supply chain management, and customer interactions with the same exactness I brought to pharmacy. The work demanded discipline and resilience, and those qualities are just as necessary in retail. The difference is the pace. In retail, the variables change faster, and you have to adapt in real time. But the foundation is the same: attention to detail, a focus on the people you serve, and a commitment to getting it right.
There are fewer places where you can find a specific spice your grandmother used, or where you can discover an ingredient you’ve never heard of and get advice on how to use it.
Away from the market, how do you recharge?
I spend most of my downtime with my wife and daughter. We cook together at home, moving between traditional Persian dishes and recipes from other cuisines we discover together. I also take long walks around the neighborhood and other parts of San Diego. That habit clears my mind after a demanding week. On weekends, when I’m not visiting markets or food festivals for work, I set aside time for reading and meditation. Both help me stay centered amid the demands of ownership.
What stays true in ten years, no matter how the grocery industry changes?
People will always want authentic products, and they’ll always value being treated with respect. Technology might change how we manage inventory or reach customers, but the core of what we do won’t shift. A market that listens to its community, stocks what people actually want, and creates a space where they feel welcomed will outlast trends. That’s been true for as long as markets have existed, and it’ll be true a decade from now.
Where do you see Balboa Market heading next?
We’re continuing to expand what we carry and who we serve, drawing on the same instinct that turned a modest Clairemont grocery into a wider destination. I’m still attending conferences, still learning, and still willing to take on risk decades after leaving pharmacy behind. The market I built out of a career change now stands as a fuller expression of the two disciplines I’ve practiced: the precision of a pharmacist and the adaptability of someone who has spent most of his life learning to make a home in new places. That’s the foundation, and everything else builds from there.
