El Viejon Seafood

Unlike the Korean and Japanese spots that dominate this stretch of Convoy, El Viejon commits entirely to Baja-style mariscos — the kind of seafood prep you'd find in Ensenada's coastal mercados, not a sushi counter. The **octopus tostada** is the tell: charred tender, layered onto a fried tortilla with lime and salsa macha, proving that tentacles don't need to arrive in ceviche form to work. It's a dish that separates this place from the poke bowls and tonkatsu three doors down.

The **fish tacos** follow Baja orthodoxy — beer-battered, impossibly light, with a crust that shatters before the fish even hits your tongue. Ask for the tortillas "extra well done" if you want char instead of steam. Two tacos clock in as a full meal. The **spicy octopus taco** and **shrimp tostada** layer heat and texture in ways that suggest someone's actually tasting as they cook, not just following a laminated recipe card.

Ceviche here earns its reputation — citrus-forward, clean, with fish that tastes like it was swimming yesterday. The **pork belly taco** is an unexpected flex, crispy-edged and rich enough to make you wonder why more mariscos spots don't keep a plancha running for land animals too.

Beer list skews imported Mexican — Bohemia shows up here, plus a rotating selection of labels you won't find at the average taco shop. Salsa selection is minimal, focused on a few house versions rather than a condiment bar. Service runs friendly and opinionated in the best way — ask what's good and they'll steer you right.

Convoy Street parking is Convoy Street parking: hunt for street spots or resign yourself to the lot. Lunch and dinner both move, so reservations are smart if you're rolling with more than two people. Takeout and delivery work if you can't claim a table, though the tostadas travel better than you'd expect.