"I can’t drink anymore, and I can’t smoke anymore. I need a vice!” pleaded my grandpa Tom Garcia when we caught him one day with a half-dozen box of donuts. Food was one of his favorite sources of pleasure, albeit a costly one. When he turned 80, my grandpa sensed his imminent death. So he requested, no, demanded that we continue to eat his favorite foods. He left us explicit instructions before he died: “Every so often, have Tommy’s Burger for me, and Olvera St. Taquitos [at Cielito Lindo], and a French Dip at Philippe’s.”
His instructions were incomplete, though. At the top of his list should have been Puerto Nuevo-Style Lobster, the one meal that most reminds me of my grandpa.
From East L.A. to the Baja Coast
Before Las Vegas or Palm Springs, Tijuana used to be Los Angeles’ go-to weekend getaway. In the 1920s, during the U.S. Prohibition era, Angelenos used to cross over to enjoy the glitzy casinos, ornate hotels, and fine dining. Tijuana or Rosarito weekend getaways have become second nature for many Southern California residents. “I remember going, and it seemed like all of El Sereno was there,” read someone who commented on a photo I posted of Puerto Nuevo in an East L.A. Nostalgia group on Facebook.
Our family trips down to Baja started in 1962, the year my grandparents got married. My grandpa Tom Garcia, whose mother hailed from Chihuahua and father was an umpteenth generation Californian, met my New Mexico-born grandma Virginia Trujillo in East L.A. After a small civil wedding ceremony in March 1962, they decided on a whim to honeymoon in Baja, California. The trip started at the Hotel Caesar’s on Tijuana’s Avenida Revolución and ended in Ensenada; it was so lively that they celebrated every anniversary in Baja, California.