Lately I've been revisiting spots where I once enjoyed a great sandwich and trying a new one. That includes going fishing again at Sausalito's Fish, where I devoured a grilled calamari sandwich a couple of years ago.
This time, I ordered the saigon salmon sandwich, a take on banh mi with grilled salmon cooked medium rare, topped with carrots, jalapeno, cilantro, and ginger-scallion sauce.
This sandwich was also outstanding: all the fixings of Little Saigon with seaside-fresh seafood and Fish's super fresh torpedo rolls. Andrew ordered the fried oyster po'boy (below), which was also tasty but not quite as good as this variation on the Vietnamese po'boy. Frankly, it's hard to go wrong with fresh fish on fresh bread, and Fish knows how to nail it.
I have already sung the praises of Peg Leg Pete's fried grouper sandwich, but one visit wasn't enough. So on my last trip to Pensacola, dad, Dee, and I took Andrew to taste the strange deliciousness of American cheese on fried fish.
Thankfully, Peg Leg's did not disappoint. We ordered two dozen oysters, an afternoon bushwacker, and a few fish sammies. I got the Cajun grilled grouper this time (below), and though the fish is just as succulent and buttery, the fried version still wins out.
I don't necessarily subscribe to the philosophy that everything is better fried, but Peg Leg's just knows how to treat a slab of battered grouper. The fish is so indulgently unctuous, like a buried treasure in a kaiser bun with cheese. Just trust me on this.
I am a sucker for new food products. Fortunately, I do most of my supermarket shopping at Trader Joe's — where I recently picked up these Mahi Mahi Burgers — and not Safeway, where I'd be tempted by new varieties of potato chips and Pop Tarts.
Truth be told, the fish patties were just OK, but the sandwiches we made with them were uniquely refreshing. Paired with Trader Joe's corn salsa and avocado and served on Acme green onion slab, the mahi made for a vaguely tropical, wholly novel treat.
Way back when I started this whole sandwich adventure, I stumbled across a Flickr photo of the grilled calamari sandwich at Fish in Sausalito, and I've wanted one ever since. Finally, finally, I made it to the sustainable seafood house on the Sausalito harbor, and dare I say the sandwich exceeded my expectations. The only problem is there are too many things on the menu I'm dying to try; I'll have to go back. Meanwhile, come sail away to seafood land.
When the footlong slab of snapper arrived on my dinner plate (really more like a platter) at Suppenkuche the other night, I immediately had visions of serving it as a sandwich, pork tenderloin style. I saw it spilling over the sides of an undersized hamburger bun like the Wiener schnitzel-inspired pork sammies of Hoosier land, its golden bread a glistening testament to German cuisine.
I ate about half my fish, and so did my future mother-in-law, so I ended up with a whole serving of snapper leftover. I abandoned my Indiana sandwich dreams and instead turned to New Orleans for inspiration to create a sort of makeshift po'boy. To hear about my supper,
I purchased some soft French sandwich rolls, then heated the fish separately, leaving the bread untoasted. I whipped up a little spicy mayo by mixing mayonnaise with a touch of hot sauce, relish, and a pinch of salt. Sliced cucumbers and crisp lettuce provided the garnish: since Suppenkuche served the fish with cucumber salad, I figured the flavor combo would work. Indeed, the hybrid German/Indiana/Louisiana schnitzel po'boy was delicious.
This weekend on a rare trip to Berkeley, I scoped out a perfect brunch spot, only to arrive and discover a 45-minute wait. New plan! My mom and I wandered into a seafood joint I had never heard of called Sea Salt.
I figured I might as well order seafood, and why not get a sandwich? Though my mom's crab cake benedict was better (hard to make that bad), the trout sandwich was well done. Pan-seared fish, the perfect thickness, served on a house-baked roll with sides of tartar sauce and slaw on the side. I wondered if trout sandwiches are a local specialty anywhere in the States. Curious? Keep reading.
When I travel to my hometown of Pensacola for Christmas, I have at least two must-dos: shopping at Target and eating a grouper sandwich. This year, I got to do both in one glorious, hungover day.
Last year, I sampled the local favorite fish at two spots: a grilled grouper sandwich with fried green tomatoes at Fish House and a more downhome cornmeal-fried version at Marina Oyster Barn. Both were distinctly delicious. Since then, my mom has done some crucial grouper sandwich research and discovered what she thinks is Pensacola's best, at Peg Leg Pete's on Pensacola Beach. Want to know the verdict? Read on.