← Back to Blog

The Best Fish Tacos — For the Bayou Boys Who Showed Up and Did Clean Work

I finished the chimney on the brick pit. It's done. Three months of weekends, 280 bricks, four bags of mortar, two broken shovels, one welded grate courtesy of Pierre, and more YouTube tutorials than I'd like to admit. I stood in the backyard on Sunday evening with a beer in my hand and looked at it — my pit, my creation — and felt the kind of satisfaction that I imagine artists feel when they finish a painting, except my painting weighs a thousand pounds and cooks ribs.

I baptized it properly: a rack of spare ribs, rubbed with salt, pepper, garlic powder, cayenne, and brown sugar. Low and slow, 225 degrees, six hours. The bricks held heat like a dream. The chimney drew perfectly — the smoke went up and out instead of billowing into my face, which had been the situation for the last month. The ribs came off at 7 PM, bark set, meat pulling from the bone, the kind of tender where you pick up a rib and the meat slides off before you can bite it. I let out a sound that Danielle later described as "primal" and that I would describe as "appropriate."

The kids approved. Luc ate four ribs. Colette ate two and declared them "better than the restaurant ones," which is the kind of review that goes on your permanent record in a Cajun household. Rémy ate one rib, got sauce on every surface of his body including behind his ears, and asked for seconds. Danielle ate three ribs and said nothing, which from Danielle means they were perfect, because Danielle only comments on food that needs improvement.

I called Mama to tell her the pit was done. She said, "Bien, bébé. Now make me a gumbo on it." Which — you don't make gumbo on a pit, Mama. Gumbo is a stove dish. But I said, "Oui, Mama," because you don't correct Marie-Claire Beaumont, you just agree and figure out the logistics later. (I could, theoretically, put a pot on the grate. It would work. I might try it. Don't tell Mama I said it was impossible.)

Work was steady this week — two service calls and a small renovation. The business is growing, slowly, the way I want it to. I'm not trying to be a big operation. I'm trying to be a good one. Show up on time, do clean work, charge fair, answer your phone. That's it. That's the whole business plan. Joey would have called it "keeping it simple, cher," and he would have been right, and I would have added that Joey's business plan for fishing was identical — show up early, work clean, be fair with the other fishermen, and answer when the bayou calls — and it worked for him until the bayou stopped calling, which wasn't his fault, and which I'm still angry about, and which I process by building things with bricks and feeding people from them.

The ribs were the baptism, but this fish taco recipe is the tribute — to Joey, to the bayou, to every man who shows up early and works clean and answers when called. I’ve been meaning to put this one down for a while, and standing at that pit on Sunday with a cold beer and four happy kids felt like exactly the right moment to finally do it. If you’re feeding people you love from something you built with your own hands, you want a recipe that carries that same spirit: simple, honest, and better than anything you’d get at a restaurant, cher.

The Best Fish Tacos

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 15 min | Total Time: 35 min | Servings: 4 (2 tacos per person)

Ingredients

  • 1 1/2 lbs white fish fillets (cod, mahi-mahi, or tilapia), cut into strips
  • 1 tbsp olive oil
  • 1 tsp chili powder
  • 1 tsp garlic powder
  • 1/2 tsp cumin
  • 1/2 tsp smoked paprika
  • 1/2 tsp salt
  • 1/4 tsp cayenne pepper
  • 8 small flour or corn tortillas, warmed
  • 2 cups shredded green cabbage
  • 1/2 cup fresh pico de gallo
  • 1 avocado, sliced
  • 1/4 cup fresh cilantro, roughly chopped
  • 1 lime, cut into wedges
  • Creamy Taco Sauce:
  • 1/2 cup sour cream
  • 2 tbsp mayonnaise
  • 1 tbsp fresh lime juice
  • 1 tsp hot sauce
  • 1/2 tsp garlic powder
  • Salt to taste

Instructions

  1. Make the sauce. Whisk together sour cream, mayonnaise, lime juice, hot sauce, garlic powder, and a pinch of salt in a small bowl. Refrigerate until ready to serve.
  2. Season the fish. Pat fish strips dry with paper towels. In a small bowl, combine chili powder, garlic powder, cumin, smoked paprika, salt, and cayenne. Drizzle fish with olive oil and toss to coat, then sprinkle the spice mixture evenly over all sides.
  3. Cook the fish. Heat a large cast iron skillet or grill pan over medium-high heat. Cook fish strips 3—4 minutes per side until opaque, flaky, and lightly charred at the edges. Do not crowd the pan — cook in batches if needed. Transfer to a plate and break into large chunks.
  4. Warm the tortillas. Char tortillas directly over a gas flame or in a dry skillet for 30 seconds per side until pliable with light grill marks.
  5. Assemble. Layer each tortilla with shredded cabbage, fish chunks, pico de gallo, and avocado slices. Drizzle generously with creamy taco sauce and scatter fresh cilantro on top.
  6. Serve. Plate immediately with lime wedges on the side. Squeeze lime over the tacos right before eating.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 420 | Protein: 34g | Fat: 18g | Carbs: 32g | Fiber: 5g | Sodium: 620mg

Tommy Beaumont
About the cook who shared this
Tommy Beaumont
Week 16 of Tommy’s 30-year story · Baton Rouge, Louisiana
Tommy is a Cajun electrician from Thibodaux, Louisiana, who lost his home to Hurricane Katrina four months after his wedding and rebuilt his life one roux at a time. He grew up on Bayou Lafourche, fishing with his father Joey at dawn and eating his mother's gumbo by dusk. His crawfish boils draw the whole neighborhood, his boudin is made from scratch, and he stirs his roux the way Joey taught him — dark as chocolate, forty-five minutes, no shortcuts. Laissez les bons temps rouler.

How Would You Spin It?

Put your own twist on this recipe — what would you add, remove, or swap?