With the fast food chains out of the way, it was time to move on to the high quality, local fish sandwiches. Surely, given the Bay Area's acumen for all things culinary, there had to be some great ones. I began doing my research, and to great disappointment, there really wasn't much. A few cutty fish fry places here and there, and a very intriguing, but COVID-closed place named Masabaga in Oakland. Hook Fish Co. in San Francisco and Fish in Sausalito do their spins on a fish sandwich, but not the classic style. Also, hopefully Masabaga reopens soon because that fried tuna belly sandwich with yuzukosho aioli and sesame cracker looks absolutely delightful. But where were all the others? Why has the fish sandwich been seemingly reserved to fast food chains? Just look at the dearth of options on a few, simple, web searches. Mostly fried chicken spots, delis, or Red Lobster-esque places.
Looking across the country, there were a couple celebrated versions, but not many. I sought out a Cuban style one in Miami's Little Havana a year back. Mainly I just saw other regional fast food chains and their fish sandwiches. If you know of any legit establishments making them, please share as I've surely missed a few. I can certainly sell a post-pandemic trip to Charleston, Milwaukee, San Diego or any other city under the auspices of a family vacation. It'll be our little secret that it's truly for the fish sandwich.
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Masabaga's Tuna Belly Burger - courtesy of San Francisco Chronicle |
After much thought, I still couldn't figure out why the classic fish sandwich wasn't more contemporarily popular. Sadly, they're overlooked and underappreciated. But with such great potential for flavor and quality, they shouldn't be. Maybe because the main association with them is fast food? Sure, there are some vestigial restaurants from the 1970's around where you can still find one. You know, those places named "The Rusty Scupper" or "Sindbad's" that have marlins and ships' helms all over the walls. But you'd be hard pressed to find anyone who considers "The Clam Tavern" to be on the cutting edge of what's fashionable in food. You'll find it as a special at a few trendier places occasionally, especially for the Lenten "fish sandwich season," but rarely as a staple. And it can't be the health concerns of fried foods. Fish 'n' chips is as popular as ever. Plus, we've got the fried chicken sandwich renaissance that's been happening the past few years. There are the fast food-centric "chicken wars," but we've seen the sandwich's popularity gain significant momentum on the local, celebrity, and high brow chef levels. In the Bay Area alone we've got Flybird, The Organic Coup, The Bird, and World Famous HotBoys, not to mention the numerous pop-ups I always hear about. And there are several celebrity chefs opening up chicken sandwich spots like David Chang's Fuku, Michael Mina's Tokyo Hot Chicken, and Sean Brock's Joyland. Why isn't the fish sandwich getting any well-deserved love? Where are all the trendy fish sandwich shops with names like "Port & Hull," "Dock 22," and "Fins or Tails?" Where's "Crow's Nest Cod Sandwiches" by Jamie Oliver?
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Not quite like the commercials, eh? |
I might be onto something here. Perhaps the fish sandwich will be the next big food craze. I say fried chicken sandwiches have jumped the shark and it's the humble fish sandwich's time to shine. Maybe not, but one can always hope. Either way, I knew I had to try my hand at a homemade fish sandwich. First though, in attempting my own, the drive-thru fish sandwich escapades had provided a few key takeaways (told you the terrible puns wouldn't stop):
1) A local, fresh filet of fish. Pretty obvious one. Those fish stick type mash ups were not pleasant. A white and flaky yet well textured fish like California halibut or rock fish would probably be best, based on my location. And being a sustainable fisheries evangelist, no way I could do anything less than a responsibly caught and sourced fish for my sandwich. Yes, I am aware the five sandwiches I'd just eaten were by no means sustainable, despite what they claim. Pulling entire schools of pollock with their by-catch from the Bering Sea isn't exactly ecologically friendly. We're all hypocrites from time to time. I know I am. This was in the name of research, at least.
2) Beer batter or a slurry for the fish's fried exterior. Any sort of panko, flour, or bread crumb coating doesn't expand enough to maintain the crunchy texture when adhered to the moisture-filled fish. Also, the steam produced once between the bun quickly breaks down any crispiness a bread crumb crust may have. Popeye's sandwich proved both these flaws, whereas Carl's Jr. demonstrated a slurry was the way to go for optimal crunch. Add "a salt and batter-y" charges to my fish sandwich's rap sheet.
3) A steamed bun, probably brioche. Despite the issues with the Filet-O-Fish, the steamed bun was quite enjoyable. Popeye's bun was also essentially steamed, due to the tin foil packaging it comes in. A softer bun, produced from steaming, would go well in contrast to the crunchy, craggily fried fish. The fish, after all, should be the focus, and I wouldn't want to take away from that with crusty French bread or a chewy sourdough.
4) Pickles only, maybe a slaw. Again, the steam and moisture from the fish once in the bun break down any fresh toppings like lettuce and they become wilted messes. Nobody wants that. Pickles or a vinegary cabbage slaw wouldn't break down from the steam, so they'd hold their texture and add a bright, acidic bite to cut the richness of the fish. And of course, definitely no damn processed American cheese.
5) Light on the sauce. I will admit I'm not a huge tartar sauce fan to begin with, but all five sauces ranged between mediocre to outright disgusting. Sweet relish and mayo is just kind of gross from the start. And the obnoxious drenching that each sandwich got of it was very disheartening. However, a light coating could compliment well. This really would be the wild card, too. I could see a nice tartar-type sauce coming together with fresh cucumber, dill, citrus and some sour cream. An Old Bay or Cajun aioli could work well, or even a malt vinegar one. Or perhaps just a dollop of cultured butter. I wouldn't want the sauce to overtake the fish, but it could definitely amplify the whole sandwich.
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Batter Notes
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Well, this was an awful lot to contemplate and execute on my own. I humbly knew I'd need some help on this project, but was excited to share the process with others. So I hit up my friends Dana and Rizzi, both buddies from my previous sea foraging adventure, and we planned a good ol' fashion backyard fish fry, masked-up and socially-distanced, of course. Rizzi, true to his nature, started geeking out on the frying batter. He got real granular with all the potential flour, starch, and powder combinations. As owner, chef, and operator of Lou's Takeaway in San Rafael, he's got a modest but commercial kitchen where he started testing all sorts of possibilities. Just take a look at his preliminary trial notes. And so many things to consider. Viscosity, density, best adherence, appropriate leavening agent, optimal browning, proper expansion, gluten development, liquid concentration, and so on. We chatted about it all week.
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Batter Testing |
When the day finally arrived, I intently selected several condiments, seasonings, and sauces from my pantry and fridge. Claussen's dill pickles, homemade mayonnaise, purple and green cabbage, Athletic Brewery Golden Ale, pickled jalapeños, Old Bay, Four Monk's malt vinegar, and more. I then headed out to pick up a few key ingredients. First, freshly baked brioche burger buns from Firebrand Bakery in Oakland. Next, California halibut and rock fish from Tokyo Fish Market in Berkeley. And lastly, a yuzukosho-inspired Spicy Citrus condiment from INNA Jam in Emeryville. I'd tried some at my sister's house a while back and thought it might make the perfect tartar sauce replacement when mixed with aioli. A combination of Meyer lemon and habanero chilis with vinegar, salt and sugar, it's a great compliment to something as simple as grilled chicken thighs or as complicated as homemade Kaiseki dinners. Give it a try if you can. I promise you won't be disappointed. Anyway, with all ingredients in hand, off to Rizzi's house I headed.
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Outdoor frying is always preferred #FrySafe |
As soon as Dana got there, we hit the ground running. Dutch oven filled with soy bean oil, wok burner ignited, and candy thermometer positioned. As we anxiously waited for 340°, I broke down the halibut and rock fish into sandwich sized portions while Rizzi mixed the batter and Dana digitally documented. Rizzi busted out the metric scale for precision down to the gram, and after a few tests, we ended up on basically two parts pastry flour, one part each potato starch and rice flour, and a teaspoon each of baking powder and kosher salt, all mixed with a cup of golden ale. Once all set, the fish portions were dredged in rice flour, dipped in the batter, and into the scalding bath they went. Just a few minutes later, it was sandwich assembly time.
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The Descanso Way Fish Sandwich |
Firebrand brioche buns came fresh out of the steamer and received a light spread on both sides of the INNA Jam spicy citrus aioli. I thick sliced the Claussen's dill pickles and mixed shredded green cabbage with a little bit of the jalapeño pickle brine to make a simple slaw. The golden crisped halibut and rock fish portions were then placed on the buns and the whole sandwich came together. It tasted quite delicious, I must say. Rizzi, admirably ever the perfectionist, saw slight areas for improvement on the batter and frying process, but all in all it was damn good. Each cooking experience should also be a learning experience. One can, and always should, try to improve. However, the sharp acidity and crunch from the pickles and slaw, richness and crispness of the fish, and the spicy brightness from the habanero citrus ailoi, all gently hugged into a soft, steamy brioche bun made for one pleasant sandwich on a warm Sunday afternoon. The only thing better was the company, of course. Who knows, maybe we'll look back at this day and say this was when fish sandwich finally started to get its due place at the literal and proverbial table. I can certainly say it's got its rightful place at mine from now on.
Again, big thanks to Dana for much of the photography and Rizzi for the cooking assist.
Cheers,
The SF Oyster Nerd