eating out: a food column
By Sarah Rothbard & Nick Soltman
This week's column could also be entitled, "Variations on a Theme." Unfortunately, that is not because we had a meal of classically symphonic proportions. Rather, it's because everything (and by everything, we mean everything) we ate in this week's epicurean adventure was fried. Deep-fried. To do our best Forrest Gump impression: fried shrimp, fried haddock, fried clam strips, fried calamari, French fries-and, sure enough, fried salmon. But a bit more on that last item later.

To be fair, Nick, Sarah and "our friend" Dan probably made a mistake by showing up at Amherst Fish Market at around 6:15 p.m. Had we known that we would have such slim pickings at our disposal, we would have spared our arteries future blockages and ourselves a 20-minute wait.

But we were hungry, and we had a column to write and places to go, so fried it was. If you do go some day, skip lunch and try to get there at 4:30 p.m. Better yet, call ahead and snag some cheap maki (we've heard good things) or fresh striped bass.

Since we hadn't called ahead, we had to wait 20 minutes for our fish to get fried. Luckily, the adjacent Moan and Dove is one of our favorite bars in the area, so we repaired there while the fryer worked overtime.

A local favorite minus the UMass frat boys in backwards BoSox hats, the Moan and Dove is where you go if you're serious about beer. You won't find patrons guzzling Bud Light, nor will you find $5 pitchers (though, in a sop to people on a budget, the bar does have $2 PBRs), but you will find unusual microbrews as well as foreign favorites like Chimay.

We chose our beverages (all on draft) by name: Nick enjoyed an Original Sin hard cider, Dan quaffed a Dragonslayer brew and Sarah savored a Wailing Wench ale. We also nibbled on the peanuts in a shell, which can be found in barrels near the bar's entrance.

Soon enough, our 20 minutes were up and our food was ready. All three orders came in identical Styrofoam containers-and all three looked identical inside, much to our surprise, as we thought that Nick had ordered broiled salmon.

Noticing that there was some salmon sitting on the ice in front of us (along with some shrimp, scallops, haddock and a lot of forlorn-looking ice), Nick had asked if he could have his salmon served rare. The man behind the counter had responded that the salmon wasn't rare quality, so Nick agreed to have the salmon well-done. When asked if he would have chips with it, Nick responded in the affirmative.

That was a mistake. We knew that Sarah and Dan's seafood combos ($11.99) would come deep-fried and golden, but we didn't realize "well-done" meant that the salmon ($8.99) would too. And while we most definitely belong to the school of people who think that almost everything's better fried, we prefer our salmon either raw or cooked.

That said, the salmon wasn't half bad. When you peeled away the breading, the salmon tasted as Nick had imagined: flaky and moist (though not as pink as he might have liked).

Still, he couldn't quite get past his feelings of self-loathing for eating fried fish with French fries and beer … in addition to two containers of tartar sauce. The sauce was the unequivocal hit of the night, tangy and delicious-Nick even used it for his French fries.

Sarah's and Dan's combos consisted of haddock and clam strips, and shrimp and calamari, respectively. They proved to be solid versions of the traditional fish and chips. The clam strips and shrimp weren't over-breaded, and their outer shells were crisp while the flesh itself remained tender.

The calamari and haddock were less successful; the calamari needed more time in the fryer while the haddock suffered in comparison to the higher quality salmon. Dan, who's had more fried seafood than the two of us combined, spoke forlornly of better versions of fish and chips he's enjoyed in Cape Cod fish shacks. (Speaking of chips, the fries were thick-cut and not as well-done as we'd have liked. We ate them, nonetheless.)

We left Amherst Fish Market feeling, most of all, regret: regret that we had subjected ourselves to so much fried stuff, and regret that we couldn't try anything else on the menu.

Issue 17, Submitted 2006-02-22 03:16:59