chili-lime grilled fish tacos with quick cabbage slaw

When you are on a beach, I truly believe you enter a different state of mind. We think of the beach experience as relaxing—and it is—but there is also this electricity and aliveness that you get on the beach that is definitely NOT about being more chill (and anyone who knows me knows I will never achieve that anyway). Staring into the infinite abyss of the ocean, the horizon, all the limitlessness of nature, is a humbling experience that reminds you of the refreshing insignificance of most of the things you spend all day worrying about. With that perspective, it’s hard not to realize that most of why we are miserable in life is because we don’t spend enough of it checking ourselves by doing things like this.

So, last summer, in a COVID low that coincided with hurricane high season, I spent five? Six? Very hot days in Baja California Sur—specifically in Todos Santos, set deep into the west coast of Los Cabos in a sleepy town full of farms and dirt roads and cows that sometimes cross the highway. This place was pure beach town magic, just as everyone says it is: slow pace, gold sand, desert heat with low humidity; insane sunsets, limitless micheladas verdes (aka Tecate Light with a huge pour of lime juice in a pool-safe acrylic cup), friendly people, mezcal at midnight, and truly incredible food, much of which was either local farm produce or simple chili-rubbed grilled fish from that morning’s catch in a homemade tortilla.

That trip was a chance to reconnect with earth, to plug back in the wires that inevitably get knocked loose through the normal course of existing. The current was finally flowing as it was supposed to again, at least for that week. The problem is that when you come away from the beach, the plugs get ripped right back out of the walls again. Studies have shown that the benefits of vacation only last for a fraction of the actual vacation time; I think the average time for “vacation glow” to wear off is something like two days. Why? Maybe someone was a jerk to you about something trivial. Maybe you read an email. I don’t know.

The point is, the feeling will wash away fast, and we have all sort of accepted that we have to just let it go. But what if we didn’t? Is anything stopping you from grounding yourself mentally in the sand, even if you’ve left the beach?

Fortunately for all of us, the beach state of mind is accessible by choice, and fish tacos are incredibly simple to make even if you exist in a place and state that is not paradise. To re-access it, combine a few types of powdered chiles—chipotle, ancho, cayenne—with cumin, oil, and salt, rub on the fish, let sit for 5 minutes, and then torch on the grill for a few minutes until flaky and amazing. Shave some cabbage, any color, and marinade it in a little lime juice, a spoonful of greek yogurt, and chopped cilantro. When the fish is done, break it up into nice-sized chunks, squeeze on a lot of lime juice, make yourself some guac, and then throw a few tortillas on the hot grill for 30 seconds. Assemble. Not much to it but to do it.

PRO TIP: add the guac to your tortilla on the BOTTOM as the base of the fish, rather than on top. This keeps it from splooting out of the sides when you eat it.

You can, for what it’s worth, use almost any fish to make fish tacos as long as it is a fish that is fresh and it is a fish that excites you (you can also use shrimp with the same recipe). However, not all fish will cook the same. Some quick doneness temperatures to keep in mind:

  • Mahi mahi, which I used here, likes an oddly specific 137ºF

  • Halibut, another luxury alternative, likes 130-135ºF

  • Salmon, which is definitely a different dish due to its flavor but still a great substitute, is best at 125-130ºF

  • Cod has to hit 145ºF due to its tendency towards parasites, which is why I don’t ever even bother with cod anymore

  • Chilean sea bass, ditto above, needs to be at 140ºF

If you don’t have a meat thermometer, make 2022 the year you fix that, because it will make cooking fish about a thousand times easier and more sustainable—please let the amount of stringy filets I have suffered through previously be your motivation. I have this one from Thermoworks (no affiliation) and swear by it.

And last, a hot sauce recommendation: I searched far and wide for a habañero hot sauce as bright orange and spicy as the one featured in the gallery. While it’s not exactly the same, I’ve arrived at Marie Sharp’s Belizean Heat, which has a tiny bit of tomato in it to make it thicker and more flavorful than should be allowed (side note: Marie is a real person who is from Belize). Definitely hot, totally worth having to order it online.

Recipe

Just some simple, chill chili-lime grilled fish tacos inspired by the fresh-catch staple tacos of Todos Santos in Baja California Sur.

Effortful time: 10 minutes

Total time: 20 minutes

Makes enough for 6 small (6”) tacos

you need

For the fish

  • 12 oz. fresh white fish filets, like mahi mahi, halibut, haddock, or cod (though salmon is also ok if that’s what you have)

  • 1 tsp. each ancho chile powder, cayenne powder, and cumin

  • 1/2 tsp. each chipotle powder

  • 1 tsp. avocado or other high-heat oil

  • Salt

  • 1 lime (you’ll only use half here)

For the tacos

  • About 2 cups of finely shredded cabbage: green or red both work

  • 1/4 cup full-fat greek yogurt

  • 1 tbsp. olive oil

  • The rest of your lime

  • 6x 6” tortillas, I always buy Caramelo

  • Mashed avocado, cilantro, and extra lime wedges; feel free to turn these into a quick guac if you prefer

  • Hot sauce, duh

MAKE IT

  1. Get prepped. By prepped I mean chop up some cilantro first. For some reason I always forget to do this and end up resenting myself while I deal with it at the end, knowing my fish is getting cold. Alternately, at this time you can go ahead and make some guac. Set aside.

  2. Coat the fish. A lot of recipes will tell you to put the seasonings into a bowl, and you can certainly do this. However, I just do it in layers and mix them right on the fish, because it truly does not matter. I put my fish filets on a foil-lined quarter sheet pan (easy cleanup), sprinkle the chili powders right onto one side of the filets with my clean hand, salt them, flip over, then repeat. Then I pour over a small amount of olive oil and massage into both sides of the fish for a minute before letting them rest for 5-10 minutes. The slightly higher surface temp helps the outsides brown at a similar rate to the insides; cold fish = no grill marks unless you’re willing to go past the point of stringy, un-fun texture to get them.

  3. Get the grill going. 450ºF tends to be about right. On my Weber, this is medium-high heat. Oil your grates really well. Fish sticks. This is not a pun.

  4. Meanwhile, make your slaw. Use a sharp knife to halve and core your cabbage. Once the core is out, slice 1/2 of the head on its vertical axis, through the space the core left behind (save the other half for something else, like a side for Instant Pot ribs). Then cut horizontally across the wedges, shaving the cabbage as thin as you can. Throw into a bowl with the greek yogurt, one half of a lime’s worth of juice, olive oil, and a pinch of salt. Toss with tongs and set aside.

  5. Grill the fish until it reaches the temperature that’s right for the kind of fish you used. Mahi mahi is my go to and it typically takes about 4 minutes per side, but this can vary. This is why we use a thermometer! Be careful when you turn the fish because it will be extra flaky; using a flexible stainless steel fish spatula helps. Leave the grill on.

  6. Lime the fish. Pull the fish off the grill and onto a platter. Gently break up with your fish spatula, flaking it into nice chunky pieces. Squirt some lime juice over that, cover in foil, and let it sit while you finish the final step.

  7. Grill your tortillas. Throw tortillas on the grill for 30-40 seconds. You’ll know when to turn them because they will puff up. Use tongs. Pull off the grill and into a big piece of foil. Then use the foil to form a little cozy pouch so they stay warm.

  8. Finish and serve. Layer each tortilla with a spoonful of guac, a portion of fish, a tongful of slaw, and some hot sauce or salsa. I like to set everything out on plates and make our own as we go so that the rest of the tortillas can stay nice and happy in their little tortilla house. Also, life’s short, so maybe open a Corona.