Once I took as an article of faith the superiority of most things belonging to the East Coast, but have found recently any number of items posing a serious threat to my proud New York exceptionalism, and high on that list is the little bit of endless summer called the fish taco. Imported from the Baja peninsula, the invention of the dish must have been simple enough: cook a piece of fish hauled out of the nearby ocean, fold it in a corn tortilla. Staple of the surfer, best accompanied by a swift breeze off the Pacific and a cold Mexican beer, the fish taco essentially consists of cooked whitefish (I’ve eaten many where the fish was not indicated, made my own out of snapper, striper, and swordfish – I don’t think it matters), shredded cabbage, a white sauce, a little bit of salsa

wrapped in a soft corn tortilla, and a spritz of lime. You can get the fish grilled, but it’s better fried. You can find any number of additions in the toppings, some of which are worth their salt, and others not.

A friend of mine said that he has a personal mission presupposed in every visit to Southern California: eat as many fish tacos as possible. I agree, and when I found myself recently bumming around San Diego County, I went for as many as I could get. In Oceanside, at the harbor near the buoy that marked the entrance to Camp Pendleton, I ate a fish taco bigger than my head: two giant pieces of fried fish and a pile of cabbage. On the porch of the Mexican restaurant in Solano Beach, just off the Pacific Coast Highway, with a margarita and an ocean breeze, I ate a fresh-tasting, bright rendition. At strip malls, fast-food joints, Mexican restaurants, even at the airport, fish tacos abound, and I tried to get around a fair number of them. Returning to the humidity of the East, I found the desire lingered. I had a fish taco jones. Simple enough, I thought – I’ll figure out how to make them. After some experimenting, I believe I’ve got it.

I don’t think the type of fish is important. The tacos I made with swordfish were just as good as the ones I made with snapper, and just as good as the ones I made with striper. The rule here, I think, should be to remember what you’re up to. Don’t buy sushigrade ahi or pay $23 a pound for swordfish that you’re going to fry and douse with sauce. Buy a firm, good-smelling piece of whitefish from a fishmonger you trust, and don’t pay too much for it. Don’t use salmon, blue fish, mackerel, trout, or sole. Don’t use anything that will fall apart too easily. Haddock or mahi-mahi would work wonderfully, as would pompano, skate, or monkfish. Obviously, with each, you’ll get a slightly different end product.

Use a pound and a half of fish, cut into pieces about the size of a big toe. It’s best to make a quick seviche. An hour or two before you’re going to cook, take the cut-up fish and put it in a casserole dish in one loosely packed layer. Squeeze four very juicy limes into the dish. Cut a jalapeno in half and toss that in. Smash two cloves of garlic and add that. Sprinkle with salt and pepper. Stir this up and refrigerate it. Drink a Tecate and hang around with whomever you’re cooking for. The fish will slowly cure in the acid of the limes, cooking a bit. This will shorten the fry time necessary and add some good citrus flavor.

While the fish marinates, make the toppings. Salsa verde is perfect for the fish taco. Roast a dozen tomatillos and three deseeded jalapenos in a 350-degree oven for 25 minutes. Pluck a cup of cilantro leaves. Put the above in a food processor or blender with the juice of 3 good limes and 1 clove of garlic. Blend until smooth, salt and pepper to taste. If you want it hotter, use more peppers; less hot, use less. If you have guests with different ideas about what hot is, roast a few extra jalapenos and chop them in the food processor after you make the salsa (no need to wash the thing out in between), and put it in a little ramekin next to the salsa with a teaspoon.

The best white sauce I made consisted of 3 /4 of a cup of sour cream, 3 /4 of a cup of kefir, salt, pepper, and the juice of about a third of a lemon.

Put all this stuff in the fridge, and make a beer batter. Put a cup of flour in a bowl, add a cup of good, hoppy beer (any IPA, Brooklyn Lager, Yeungling Lager, etc.), salt, and pepper. Add a couple of dashes of cayenne, or some Tabasco, or a tablespoon of something like “Cajun Seasoning” or Old Bay (time to stare at your spice rack, in other words). Steer clear of things like lemon pepper, as you’ve already got a lot of citrus in this dish. Mix the batter; it should be the consistency of pancake batter. Adjust the beer or the flour accordingly. Let the batter sit for about half an hour; it will begin to ferment.

Shred half a head of cabbage as if you were making a thick coleslaw. Heat some tortillas in the oven, sealed so they don’t dry out. Wrapping them in a tea towel with a sprinkle of water works well, but be careful you don’t set it on fire.

All that’s left is to fry the fish and assemble. Pour vegetable oil into a heavy pan until it is about an inch deep. Heat it to 350 degrees. If you don’t have a thermometer, dribble some batter into the oil. It should start cooking immediately upon hitting the oil: steam bubbles will come from it, and it will form a little ball and begin to crisp. If it browns very quickly or smokes, you’ve got it too hot. If it just sits in the oil looking unenthusiastic, you’re not hot enough. Somewhere between medium and medium-high on the range ought to maintain the oil temp well.

With tongs, chopsticks, or your fingers if you’re very brave, dip the chunks of fish into the batter and fry them a few at a time. How many you can get away with depends on the size of the pan. If the oil gets too cool while you’re cooking, the batter will be squishy and greasy. Stick to four or five pieces at a time. Fry them until golden brown. Have a section of newspaper nearby, remove the fish from the oil with a fry basket or a slotted spoon or the tongs you used to dip them, and put them on the paper. Frying at a good temperature means not a lot of the oil comes with you – if your oil level is decreasing, you are frying too cool.

That’s it. Take a tortilla, put a couple of pieces of fish on it, a few tablespoons of the cabbage, spoon some white sauce over that, and some salsa verde, squeeze a lime on top. Guacamole is a fine addition. So are the Beach Boys. Crank up “Pet Sounds,” wear those board shorts one last time, and enjoy.