El Pescador

A fish counter that earned its keep before it earned its line. We've been going since we were small enough to need stools. My cousin still orders the same thing he ordered when he was eight, which is embarrassing for both of us.

The bread

Dudley's roll, lightly toasted. It's the right roll for this — soft, slightly sweet, doesn't fight the smoke or the slaw. My cousin grumbles every visit that the roll could be sturdier. I tell him we're in La Jolla, not Lunenburg. The roll knows what it's doing.

The filling

Local yellowtail, smoked in-house. The smoke is restrained — you can still taste fish, not just hickory. Cabbage slaw with a citrus aioli for cut. That's it. Three things. They don't add anything they don't need.

The people

The boats come in early. The smokehouse runs till lunch. The counter is small, the parking is a problem, and we wouldn't have it any other way. La Jolla in general has a complicated relationship with sandwiches. This place is the proof there's still soul under all the brunch.

The verdict

We argue every year about whether this should be top-five. My cousin says no — limited menu, narrow appeal. I say yes — best fish sandwich in town, and a fish sandwich is its own category. We compromise at #8 and walk it off along the shore.