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Tacos Lily: good enough for Anthony Bourdain!
I raise my Tecate to the Master.
Salvador sings of love to Jazmin.
Wow! I had forgotten this scene. You wind up in Baja on the southbound road through the mountains, until you swing a left and Blatt! The Pacific! A rippling blue carpet way below. It’s quite dizzying.
We’re on the way to Ensenada.
Why am I down here? Got to find out how everybody’s doing, this side of the line.
My oysters
So first stop, natch, Hussong’s. Ruiz Boulevard, in the oldest part of town. Except, aaargh! Closed. “Has been since COVID began,” says this mariachi guy. “Since the cruise ships stopped coming.”
This is Sunday. A band is playing beside Hussong’s locked door. I notice that Papas and Beer also looks very closed. Other places are open, though. People are eating, and inside. But now I’m thinking of my other favorite place, the Black Market (Mercado Negro) on the waterfront.
Thank goodness, twenty minutes later I’m smelling fish and hearing the shouts of fishmongers. A group of Cubans inspect the scarlet Mojarra. The market isn’t crowded, but it’s open and alive. “Not responsible for broken windscreens,” says a sign beside the entrance.
Gobernador: more expensive at $2.70, but worth it.
“It’s crazy,” says Armando, who’s one of the fishmongers. “Everybody’s still eating, but in these hard times, they’re eating carne asada, meat, not fish. Our business is down 45, 50 percent last month.”
I mean, they still have hundreds of different fish, octopus, shellfish, all beautifully laid out, and the fishmongers still wear red, yellow or white protective aprons. They wave flies away with green swishes, joking with each other and shouting out their deals.
“Know of a good cheap place to eat?” I ask one, Javier. He says nothing, but grabs me and hauls me out of the market, into the sunlight. “Wait here,” he says.
He comes back with a pretty lady on his arm. “This is my novia,” he says. “Jazmin. Okay, not my novia. I’m just in love with her.”
And he hands her off to me. “Come,” she says.
Ten seconds later we’re outside this sun-drenched place called “Tacos Lily.” A big family is eating and chatting at a long table.
Big choice of salsas for Lily’s tacos.
“Come,” says Jazmin again. She sits me down on a blue bench at a red table.
Hmm. Quite a menu. Meanwhile, Jazmin and, turns out, her sisters and her aunt are trolling the front for customers. First thing I see is, wow, ostiones. Oysters, from San Quintin, 90 pesos ($4.50) for six, 180 ($9) for 12. So that’s, say, 70 cents each. I ask for the 1/2 dozen. And a can of Tecate (about $1.50). Jazmin’s sister Damaris brings radishes, chips, shredded cabbage, and a plate of Saladitas saltine crackers. And seven different salsas in glasses. Brown (habanero), orange (serrano), green (avo), gold (onion-cucumber?), on and on.
Huh. See a picture of Anthony Bourdain, sitting right here. I raise my Tecate to the Master.
Down from Mexicali’s heat, the Ochoa family had fish tacos.
Even before the oysters come, I’m snacking on all these chips with their dips. But then, the ostiones! Each shell has a quarter of lime. I squirt, lift the shell to my mouth. Big, so-o squelchy-salty-tasty. Go down a total treat.
Hmm. What next? Octopus cocktail runs about $7. Same with shrimp, clams about $8, mussel cocktail’s about $6 (or about $8 for the large). A country-style (campechano) molcajete of mixed seafood is 400 pesos, say $15-20. Siete Mares (“Seven Seas”) soup goes for $8, and pata de mula, which they translate as “Mule’s Foot” (blood clams), are $4 for half a dozen.
I look over at the people eating at the long table, munching fish tacos. Ochoa family. Three generations. They’re down from Mexicali to cool off. “It was 48 degrees (Celsius, 118 degrees Fahrenheit),” says Mrs. Ochoa. “I am shivering here in this sea breeze.”
“You can tell the fish is fresh here at the coast,” says Arturo, the father. “They taste so different here.”
Bliss: Javier and his enamorada, Jazmin.
Jazmin says this is where fish tacos were actually invented, right here at the market. In about 1960. Not only that, but Siete Mares soup came from here also. “And, way before Puerto Nuevo, we made lobster popular, at Mercado Negro,” says Javier, who’s come to check on us.
It seems the town of Ensenada was founded by a company from London, England. This market was born in the 1890s, and has survived on five sites around the port since.
In the end, I go for three tacos, the fish (70 cents), spicy shrimp ($1.50), and quesadilla ($1.10). Spicy shrimp’s the best, picante and good. Goes well with my second can of Tecate. Although I sort of crave the Gobernador ($2.70) taco. Think it’s mashed up shrimp with grated cheese.
While I’m eating, Salvador the lone mariachi comes up and makes me an offer I can’t refuse. Three songs for ten bucks, including the difficult Spanish one, “La Malagueña.” Plus Cielito Lindo, of course, so we can all belt out “Ay yay yay yay, canta y no llores! (Sing, don’t cry!)” and a ranchero song. (We’re all suitably distanced, of course). Then Aurora comes up with jewels and face masks to sell. She’s proudly Aztec. She says not having the cruise ships coming in every day makes life difficult. She has a bracelet of silver owls I can give to maybe my friend Annie, for $10.
How different is Ensenada, COVID-wise, from San Diego? Not much. “Uso de Cubrebocas Obligatorio,” (“Use of face masks mandatory”) say signs everywhere. Probably the biggest risk is in the ABC bus ride back to Tijuana. Passengers don’t talk to each other, not at these close quarters.
It’s nearly midnight when the bus drops me in TJ. Inspectors joke with each other in the deserted customs hall. Yes, a little naughty to go south at this time, but hey, if it was good enough for Bourdain!
- The Place: Tacos Lily, Callejon de la Marina (at Miramar), Mercado Negro de Marisco, Ensenada, Baja California 646-144-74-18
- Hours: 8am-7pm, daily
- Prices: San Quintin oysters, 70 cents each; $4.50 for six; octopus cocktail, $7; shrimp cocktail, $7; clam cocktail, $8; mussel cocktail, $6; mixed seafood (campechano molcajete), $15-20; Siete Mares soup, $8; pata de mula (blood clams) $4 for half a dozen; fish taco, 70 cents; spicy shrimp taco, $1.50; quesadilla taco, $1.10
- Buses: ABC from Tijuana, “Micro” buses around town
- Nearest bus stops: Riveroll and 11th street (ABC); micros, just hail one down
Here's something you might be interested in.
Tacos Lily: good enough for Anthony Bourdain!
I raise my Tecate to the Master.
Tacos Lily: good enough for Anthony Bourdain!
I raise my Tecate to the Master.
Salvador sings of love to Jazmin.
Wow! I had forgotten this scene. You wind up in Baja on the southbound road through the mountains, until you swing a left and Blatt! The Pacific! A rippling blue carpet way below. It’s quite dizzying.
We’re on the way to Ensenada.
Why am I down here? Got to find out how everybody’s doing, this side of the line.
My oysters
So first stop, natch, Hussong’s. Ruiz Boulevard, in the oldest part of town. Except, aaargh! Closed. “Has been since COVID began,” says this mariachi guy. “Since the cruise ships stopped coming.”
This is Sunday. A band is playing beside Hussong’s locked door. I notice that Papas and Beer also looks very closed. Other places are open, though. People are eating, and inside. But now I’m thinking of my other favorite place, the Black Market (Mercado Negro) on the waterfront.
Thank goodness, twenty minutes later I’m smelling fish and hearing the shouts of fishmongers. A group of Cubans inspect the scarlet Mojarra. The market isn’t crowded, but it’s open and alive. “Not responsible for broken windscreens,” says a sign beside the entrance.
Gobernador: more expensive at $2.70, but worth it.
“It’s crazy,” says Armando, who’s one of the fishmongers. “Everybody’s still eating, but in these hard times, they’re eating carne asada, meat, not fish. Our business is down 45, 50 percent last month.”
I mean, they still have hundreds of different fish, octopus, shellfish, all beautifully laid out, and the fishmongers still wear red, yellow or white protective aprons. They wave flies away with green swishes, joking with each other and shouting out their deals.
“Know of a good cheap place to eat?” I ask one, Javier. He says nothing, but grabs me and hauls me out of the market, into the sunlight. “Wait here,” he says.
He comes back with a pretty lady on his arm. “This is my novia,” he says. “Jazmin. Okay, not my novia. I’m just in love with her.”
And he hands her off to me. “Come,” she says.
Ten seconds later we’re outside this sun-drenched place called “Tacos Lily.” A big family is eating and chatting at a long table.
Big choice of salsas for Lily’s tacos.
“Come,” says Jazmin again. She sits me down on a blue bench at a red table.
Hmm. Quite a menu. Meanwhile, Jazmin and, turns out, her sisters and her aunt are trolling the front for customers. First thing I see is, wow, ostiones. Oysters, from San Quintin, 90 pesos ($4.50) for six, 180 ($9) for 12. So that’s, say, 70 cents each. I ask for the 1/2 dozen. And a can of Tecate (about $1.50). Jazmin’s sister Damaris brings radishes, chips, shredded cabbage, and a plate of Saladitas saltine crackers. And seven different salsas in glasses. Brown (habanero), orange (serrano), green (avo), gold (onion-cucumber?), on and on.
Huh. See a picture of Anthony Bourdain, sitting right here. I raise my Tecate to the Master.
Down from Mexicali’s heat, the Ochoa family had fish tacos.
Even before the oysters come, I’m snacking on all these chips with their dips. But then, the ostiones! Each shell has a quarter of lime. I squirt, lift the shell to my mouth. Big, so-o squelchy-salty-tasty. Go down a total treat.
Hmm. What next? Octopus cocktail runs about $7. Same with shrimp, clams about $8, mussel cocktail’s about $6 (or about $8 for the large). A country-style (campechano) molcajete of mixed seafood is 400 pesos, say $15-20. Siete Mares (“Seven Seas”) soup goes for $8, and pata de mula, which they translate as “Mule’s Foot” (blood clams), are $4 for half a dozen.
I look over at the people eating at the long table, munching fish tacos. Ochoa family. Three generations. They’re down from Mexicali to cool off. “It was 48 degrees (Celsius, 118 degrees Fahrenheit),” says Mrs. Ochoa. “I am shivering here in this sea breeze.”
“You can tell the fish is fresh here at the coast,” says Arturo, the father. “They taste so different here.”
Bliss: Javier and his enamorada, Jazmin.
Jazmin says this is where fish tacos were actually invented, right here at the market. In about 1960. Not only that, but Siete Mares soup came from here also. “And, way before Puerto Nuevo, we made lobster popular, at Mercado Negro,” says Javier, who’s come to check on us.
It seems the town of Ensenada was founded by a company from London, England. This market was born in the 1890s, and has survived on five sites around the port since.
In the end, I go for three tacos, the fish (70 cents), spicy shrimp ($1.50), and quesadilla ($1.10). Spicy shrimp’s the best, picante and good. Goes well with my second can of Tecate. Although I sort of crave the Gobernador ($2.70) taco. Think it’s mashed up shrimp with grated cheese.
While I’m eating, Salvador the lone mariachi comes up and makes me an offer I can’t refuse. Three songs for ten bucks, including the difficult Spanish one, “La Malagueña.” Plus Cielito Lindo, of course, so we can all belt out “Ay yay yay yay, canta y no llores! (Sing, don’t cry!)” and a ranchero song. (We’re all suitably distanced, of course). Then Aurora comes up with jewels and face masks to sell. She’s proudly Aztec. She says not having the cruise ships coming in every day makes life difficult. She has a bracelet of silver owls I can give to maybe my friend Annie, for $10.
How different is Ensenada, COVID-wise, from San Diego? Not much. “Uso de Cubrebocas Obligatorio,” (“Use of face masks mandatory”) say signs everywhere. Probably the biggest risk is in the ABC bus ride back to Tijuana. Passengers don’t talk to each other, not at these close quarters.
It’s nearly midnight when the bus drops me in TJ. Inspectors joke with each other in the deserted customs hall. Yes, a little naughty to go south at this time, but hey, if it was good enough for Bourdain!
- The Place: Tacos Lily, Callejon de la Marina (at Miramar), Mercado Negro de Marisco, Ensenada, Baja California 646-144-74-18
- Hours: 8am-7pm, daily
- Prices: San Quintin oysters, 70 cents each; $4.50 for six; octopus cocktail, $7; shrimp cocktail, $7; clam cocktail, $8; mussel cocktail, $6; mixed seafood (campechano molcajete), $15-20; Siete Mares soup, $8; pata de mula (blood clams) $4 for half a dozen; fish taco, 70 cents; spicy shrimp taco, $1.50; quesadilla taco, $1.10
- Buses: ABC from Tijuana, “Micro” buses around town
- Nearest bus stops: Riveroll and 11th street (ABC); micros, just hail one down