Fish Tacos

I wish fish tacos were called something else because every time I say "I love fish tacos" I always feel like I am fluffing "tacos", you know, another word for a woman's christian parts, her hoo-hoo, her yina. But not a lovely vagina, one that smells like fish. Anyway, it seems that I got carried away on that one. In spanish I think fish is pescado. I'll call them pescado tacos from now on, it's even more fun to say and a bit of a tongue twister. Blah, blah, blah, anyway, the point is: pescado tacos. Love them!

Once one of my best boy friends, Billy and I were on a little trip to Los Angeles in 2003. We were wasting time after having taken a taxi in from Long Beach. We had our bags and everything and were waiting for a friend of ours to pick us up. We were delited to be in LA, a bit tipsy from our plane ride (I had a flask of Crown Royal and also our flight attendant was giving us free alcohol. Gotta love Jet Blue.) and hungry as hell. Anyway, we wondered around and found this little mom and pop mexican joint. The place was tiny and empty. We plopped down at the counter on a stool and ordered chips and guacamole and fish tacos. Papacito made the guacamole in front of us. Then with Mamacita's help, he made fish tacos for us. Best food ever. ever. ever. I think while we were in LA for three days we ate there a total of 4 times. Sitting at that counter with Billy and savoring every bite in that little mexican cantina will never leave my memory. The first visit to that joint out of the few is the most vidid and one of my most favorite memories I have.

The picture below was taken after we ate there the first time. We tried to get a picture of the restaurant in the background but no such luck.