Feature piece by Bill Hillyard, co-owner of The Algiers Inn, Baltimore, West Cork with his wife, Ann.
Originally from California, the couple spent 30 years working in hospitality and travelling the world before deciding West Baltimore was the place for them as they found a thriving culinary spirit reminiscent of the California of Alice Waters’ time, who in the seventies started the farm-to-table movement and was a pioneer of Californian cuisine.
American food, like the country itself, is an amalgamation of cultures and traditions. While the origins of many dishes we think of as American have been lost along the way (is the hamburger really from Hamburg?), one thing is certain: American food is shaped by crossings of borders, oceans, ingredients and cultures.
That idea of crossing paths and cultures feels especially relevant to us. My wife Ann and I grew up in California but made the move to West Cork in 2019. My grandparents emigrated from Ireland in the 1920s, so the country had always been part of our family story. At the same time, life in California was becoming increasingly uncertain. Years of drought and wildfire seasons made us rethink what we wanted for the future and we began looking for somewhere greener and more grounded. West Cork with its rain, mild climate and strong sense of community felt like the right place to land.
Not long after arriving, we came across The Algiers in the harbour village of Baltimore, a pub with a long local history. We took it on and reopened in early 2020, just weeks before the first lockdown. Like many in hospitality, those early months were challenging, but they also gave us time to settle into the rhythms of the village and begin restoring the interior and garden space, while getting to know the remarkable community and network of food producers and fisherman who make West Cork such an exciting place to cook.
Ann leads the kitchen at The Algiers and soon after arriving in Ireland completed the Ballymaloe Cookery School course to deepen her understanding of Irish ingredients and producers. Bill looks after front of house and the bar, where a long-standing interest in tequila and mezcal has shaped the cocktail list and offers the only craft cocktail bar in West Cork.
At The Algiers we like to think of our food as Californian in spirit and West Cork in ingredients, bringing together the produce landed on the pier in Baltimore with some of the flavours and influences we grew up with on the other side of the Atlantic.
One dish that captures that connection particularly well is the Baja Fish Taco.
The Baja Fish Taco is one of those dishes that tells a much bigger story than its modest form suggests. Most roads lead back to Baja California, Mexico, particularly the port city of Ensenada, about sixty miles south of San Diego, as the likely origin of the dish. Like many beloved foods, its exact history is debated (some say Japanese immigrants introduced the tempura-style batter to Mexico), but what is certain is that a practical coastal meal – fresh fish, tortilla, cabbage, salsa, cream and lime – became something larger: a regional emblem that eventually travelled far beyond its birthplace.
For us, the taco is not just an idea but a taste memory. Ann and I have eaten fish tacos many times in the fish markets of Ensenada, where they are said to have begun. We remember standing there with hot tortillas in hand, tasting the snap of fresh cabbage against crisp batter, impeccably fresh fish, the brightness of lime and that unmistakable mix of sea air and appetite that makes certain foods inseparable from the places where they are eaten.
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In many ways, that dish feels perfectly at home in West Cork. We are surrounded by superb fish landed right here in Baltimore and by people who understand that the best food often depends less on complication than on clarity and confidence.
A good Baja Fish Taco is not fussy. It asks only for freshness, balance and a light hand. Done properly, it is both deeply rooted in its own birthplace and endlessly portable, the kind of dish that can travel across oceans without losing its soul. In a way, that journey mirrors our own: bringing something of where we came from to the place we now call home.
