Having driven past ‘Best Fish Taco in Ensenada’ numerous times it never occurred to me – with its cheeky albeit prosaic marketing – to pull over. I would mutter to myself over the rumble of my car’s engine that any restaurant that called itself a mediocre superlative situated in the wrong place should best be avoided.
One Sunday, a friend of mine told me to meet her at ‘the best fish taco spot’ in Los Feliz. Funnily enough, said restaurant and its technicolor edifice sprang to mind. Outside, happy diners sat at plastic tables under a loosely thatched canopy. It was a slice of rustic Baja and I was diminutively charmed.
Taco options include: potato, grilled shrimp or fried fish. Considering all are under three dollars, I splashed out and got one of each. After waiting less than five minutes for my pillows of flash fried freshness I promptly headed over to the accoutrement stand. A tropically colored array of toppings which include shredded cabbage, radish pickle, homemade salsas (of varying intensity) and the coveted crema de Mexicana; all transforming the dry steaming parcels into a mouth fiesta.
So girthy were my tacos, I couldn’t fold them in half. I pulled and poured the contents into my mouth not before dribbling sauce onto the Formica table, and then onto my jeans, smears scintillating across my cheek. It was the best.
And then I counted my quarters with ‘pineapple kiss’ salsa-ed fingers and went up to the counter to order more.