By the sea, by the beautiful sea! A trip to the seven seas.

That light spin, the great fiery pain ball in the sky shown down so very kindly. The makani was cool, and perfumed with the exhaust of wild SUVs. So your humble narrator set feet to pavement to mira the world while the world was still kind.

What did I find you ask, you who are my grand ami? Why a seaside shack set right in the middle of this bad ol city. To speak truth, my hoaloha Ms. Bon V said this was the place to grind the best of the fish taco.

A very popular place for both Aristos and Bohos alike, this little shack promises a

Now I don’t know about you my dearest, but the last time your narrator had a marisco experience, he lay on the cold porcelaine of his bano sobbing to Odin and all the angels about food poisoning. Was this a dastardly trap set by Bon V, to send your own Metrowalker a praying whee whee whee on the cold tile?

Not at all, Bon V was righteous, take a look at that menu children, everything from tacos to burgers.

Your narrator got himself one of those famous pesci tacos, and a mixed seafood cocktail…If one is to swim..one needs to dive. Crispy battered pesci, crunchy white cabbage, a sweet mayo sauce, and a splash of fiery red salsa made this mighty interesting. With a squirt of lime, and a touch of jalapeno pickled carrots, this hecho en metro was shaping up to be a righteous grind.

Your chronicler could not tell what the pesci was before it was fried, Was it Pollack, Talapia, some sort of hijacked clone meat from the Gorton’s Fisherman? It was flakey, mild and oily, a description that has sometime been linked to your own humble bard.
Then a cocktail of clam pieces, octopus bits, shrimp, cubes of fake abalone, and of course…fake crab. Let’s stop for a moment my glorious ami, and thank the scientist that formulated that stringy abortion of food, surimi. His noble efforts have saved countless crabs their lives, and all of you the over use of the word delicious.

All this loverliness packed into a cup and bound together with a cool mixture of under ripe tomatoes, creamy avocado, mild onions ,and tomato water.

Your narrator tasted a hint of cilantro in this mixture, not enough to offend, but enough to at least know it was there. Once again a good squirt of lime, and a healthy plop plop plop of the fiery red stuff, known all the metro around as Tapatio, and I was ready to grind.

Ah ha, there’s that shrimp…knew it was in there somewhere…

Now I know what you are saying my dearest, where is the horseradish, where is the ketchup? Well my most astute brothers and sisters, Mexican seafood cocktails are usually free of both those players…opting to marinate the seafood in something a little lighter.

Now what to wash it down with? Beer? Tempting, but I had miles to ped before I slept. Wine? Noper, this is nay not a wine place my comrades…The thing to drink was…

Mexican coke, that’s right, all of the calories, and all of the SUGAR , say it with me my congregation SUUUUGAR. Cold and frosty, this was the perfect thing to wash down my own illuminated lunch.

Can I suggest this palace of pescadation to you brothers and sisters? Well it’s honto that it is a great place on a cool spring day, and the fish is fresh if not a little bland. The prices are fair, and there is ample parking for you who won’t join the dance. The fish tacos were good, but the best….I’ll get back to you on that bumbye. Still friends, all in all a grand place to chew some fishes and flat breads.

I am gonna try the ceviche tostada next time kindred…and of course I will let you know.

El Siete Mares

3131 W Sunset Blvd

Los Angeles, CA 90026

(323) 665-0865