This is the last stop before you hit sand. South Beach's(5059 Newport Ave) weather-beaten bar only accepts cash and IDs patrons at the door (even during lunchtime), but continues to lure me with my favorite fish fantasy - the mahi taco. It's not all mahi tacos I crave, only South Beach's concoction of shredded cabbage, melted cheddar and the thin white sauce (still mysterious in origin) atop this piece of fish, geometrically fitted to the tortilla's specifications. Every time I try to order something else (Rockefeller would surely grumble to know the oysters here shared his name and the lobster tacos aren't even a close second), I realize that they are the sole reason for my return.
It's not for their dysfunctional policy where food and drinks are ordered separately, forcing patrons to navigate the crowded bar whenever thirsty. Or for the criminal acts of line-cutting that ensue from their free-for-all philosophy about seating. Or for one of the grosser bathrooms in San Diego (mix sand with drunks and see what comes up).
It's for the personification of summer on a plate. Give me two mahi tacos with a pint of Hefeweizen and its all gravy baby.
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