When I moved back to my hometown of Diamond Bar in January of 2007, I had just completed the six most adventurous months of my life. My plan was to loll around for a few months, then begin the next stage of adventure in Oakland, CA. $15,000 in debt and a handsome pile of doubt, however, had a different appraisal of the situation, and one year later I am still curled up in the corner of San Gabriel Valley, rambling about the perfect slice and coming to terms with the fact that I’ve somehow settled into a routine of idyllic boredom that only Southern California can provide.

In this part of suburbia, the hills roll as much as the rims of over-endowed teenagers. We’re in the midst of January and daytime temperatures still float to the brim of the 60s, which makes any time a good time to take a post-rural stroll. The neighborhoods are safe, the streets are clean, Snoop Dogg watches over my house from his gated residence mansion, and every once in a while the smog clears to reveal a view of the San Gabriel mountains.

As easy as it is to kick back and enjoy the growing of grass, I can’t help but feel like every day spent here is another seed sown for my burial plot. I’m not alone: Last week, on the one-year anniversary of my return to Diamond Bar, I said goodbye to one of my old high school comrades, off to New York City to be reunited with her love and reintroduced to the vibrant avenues of big city living. To celebrate her last afternoon in the smog-inflected glow of Southern California, we drove through the paved hills to Taco Nazo, a local chain of Mexican restaurants that specializes in freshly fried Ensenada style fish tacos.

I suppose Taco Nazo reflects the dubious comforts of my life here to a T. The space is modest, the counter fairly unassuming, the service friendly and the food delicious. Yet, the seating is a little too clean, the decor a little too planned, the smile at the register a little too distant and the food… well, the food is actually one of the more compelling reasons for me to stick around. I may wring nerves over the premeditated tedium of life in Diamond Bar, but surely they don’t make fish tacos like this in Queens.

The closest approximation of edible sunshine I can imagine, Taco Nazo’s tender chunks of melt-in-your-mouth fish are generously battered and deep fried to order, resulting in a consistently perfect filet with a lifespan of about five minutes. The first gentle, greaseless crunch is as bright as the first beam of morning light peeking into my bedroom, inviting me into the unseasonably warm embrace of a new Southern California day. Doused with tomatillo and splashed with lime, the taco unfolds into a hand-held cascade of texture and flavor that is deeply satiating but all too ephemeral. Just as I’ve settled into its radiant glow, I realize there’s nothing left to enjoy.

After saying good journey to my dear friend and board game partner, I rolled into the sunset of another hazy Diamond Bar day, meditating on the idyllic boredom of adulthood. When exactly will I accept the prospect of a comfortable grave site? When will the sunshine of someone’s love be where I’m going? It’s getting to be dawn again, but I’d rather be where the stars are falling.

Taco Nazo
1267 N. Grand Ave.
Walnut, CA 91789
626.442.5671

This entry was posted on Thursday, January 17th, 2008 at 8:44 am and is filed under Deep Fried, Los Angeles, Tacos.