If, as Michael Hebb says, the vitality of a society's food culture can be measured by its street food, our little corner of the world can add some more cream to its burgeoning crop. The One Pot impresario's first legal Seattle restaurant -- complete with a permanent address and (nearly) regular hours -- is to fish 'n' chips what Frites was to French fries: a joint that honors proletarian street grub by giving it the respect it deserves.
Itinerant night owls from Harrison to Union streets woefully mourned the death of Frites, the late-night hole-in-the-wall next to Neumo's that refortified many a soaked stomach stumbling about Capitol Hill's bar circuit. Pike Street Fish Fry [0] has successfully filled its shoes the only way it could possibly hope to -- by making cheap fried food better than anyone else.
If you aren't familiar with Michael Hebb [1] (also known as Michael Hebberoy), here's a brief history: The restaurateur, whom Food & Wine magazine dubbed a "food provocateur," launched an underground dining movement and three above-ground bistros (Family Supper, Clarklewis and the Gotham Building Tavern) in Portland before moving to Seattle in 2006. Once here, he began One Pot, a series of "underground" dinners organized around a person or theme and held in various bars, restaurants, art galleries and warehouses. All of which might help explain the fanfare surrounding the opening of a fish 'n' chips shop on Capitol Hill.
Fish Fry starts with fresh, wild seafood that kitchen queen Monica Dimas says has never been frozen. It arrives whole from suppliers given the green stamp by the Monterey Bay Aquarium Seafood Watch Program -- meaning it was sustainably caught and/or raised. The fish are hacked up on site and cooked to your liking, either "battered and fried," "just fried" or simply grilled.
The regular selection of catches includes ling cod, Pacific snapper, Hawaiian spearfish, oysters, halibut and catfish (the only farm-raised fish on the menu). Then you pick a dipping sauce: smoked-chili mayo, curry ketchup, salsa verde, lemon aioli or housemade tartar.
This is all well and refreshing as far as fish n' chips go, but Hebb & Co. (other partners are Mike McConnell of Via Tribunali and Caffe Vita, and the folks at Neumo's/Moe Bar [1], where you can have Fish Fry delivered) have taken their update to the decades-old model still further. The batter used is more of a tempura style, meaning thinner, lighter, less oil-soaked dough and more high-quality fish flavor. The oil is healthier canola and the salt blend gives a good spike of sea salt crunch at times and a fine, subtle dusting at others.
They throw some rather mind-blowing fried lemons into each basket, offer crispy asparagus and green beans instead of fries for veggie lovers, plus a grilled steak for the meatheads. Anything on the menu can be made into a sandwich, and nothing is over $9. There's beer ($3-$4), wine ($6), Mexican coke (the yummy, syrupy kind) and Fresca, the only soft drink that soft drink haters love.
With One Pot, Hebb's mission was to get people to sit down, slow down, eat whatever comes out of the kitchen and talk for hours to whomever sits next to you. There's still a place for that, he says, but here he's gone for the opposite. It's standing room only in his tiny box of a space and his fish is meant to be eaten on the go -- to the next bar or off to bed -- because in typical fashion, he rejects the notion that good food has to involve reservations and white linen. Fish Fry is food for the people.
Copyright © 2008 The Seattle Times Company
