Quick version of recipe at bottom of post.
I clearly remember the first time I heard someone order fish tacos at a Tex-Mex place called Chevy’s (it may still be around somewhere.) I couldn’t get my mind around it, but the person ordering it, who happened to be my brother-in-law Bill, assured me it was out of the world luscious.

Here’s Bill singing Beatle songs to our granddaughter Piper last May.
I don’t think so, thought my younger and more naive self twenty years ago. And this despite the fact that I had, indeed, spent four years in San Antonio, where tacos of any sort in the universe reigned supreme. (Had there been fish tacos, though? I didn’t remember them.)
Fast forward a few years and find my sister cooking fish tacos in my kitchen. Addiction. Totally. I hijacked her recipe with a few embellishments. And made it and made it and made it. Dave then began ordering fish tacos from restaurants and I kept thinking…