My most memorable fish tacos was had off the main drag in Laguna Beach, Calif. It is entirely possible that it was my first fish tacos simply because it is the first one I remember having. I don’t recall the name of the place. It was nearly a shack. Just a long high counter with a few guys in white caps working behind it. Over head was one of those plain menu boards, the kind that you find at concession stands at ballgames.
“Fish Taco $5” it read. I ordered one.
I wanted it badly, I remember, because this was my first time in Southern California and for some reason I had convinced myself that I hadn’t fully arrived in California until I ate a fish taco.
I was with a photographer from the Monitor. We were on one of those assignments that a desk editor like me gets to do about once a decade. My mission was to tackle three kinds of surfing in 24 hours, skim boarding, boogie boarding, and long board. Yes, that was my job. I was getting paid to to do this. And we were going to film it. I hid my dread as best I could.
Kitchen Report 