6 Restaurants in America Reinventing the Filet-O-Fish

White fish, such as cod, catfish, or pollock. Breaded and fried. One slice of preternaturally yellow American cheese. Tartar sauce, slathered thick. Ensconced in a smooth, blemish-free, and steamed bun. McDonald’s Filet-O-Fish sandwich is unbelievably plain, but delightfully mild, and the source of endless nostalgia for many. Late at night, it beckons you.

There is also something quintessentially American about the McDonald’s Filet-O-Fish. Like many of this country’s beloved institutions (Wall Street, the NBA, those Precious Moments figurines every person over the age of 70 seems to own), the modest little fish sandwich that could was created to generate cash flow. In 1962, with sales dropping significantly on Fridays — the day when many of Cincinnati, Ohio’s large Roman-Catholic population observed Lent — McDonald’s franchise owner Lou Groen came up with a non-meat solution. The Filet-O-Fish was born.

Today, the Filet-O-Fish is a national treasure. Since the Filet-O-Fish debuted nationwide on McDonald’s menu in 1965, it has become a big seller, to the tune of 300 million sandwiches each year, with an estimated 25% of sales occurring during Lent. It’s been embraced not just by the Roman-Catholics but by many other minority groups as well: Asian immigrants, Muslims, and Jewish people.

And the humble Filet-O-Fish is experiencing a second-wave Renaissance, with chefs across the country serving up original takes on the iconic fish sandwich. From fishball sandos to filets topped with caviar, here are six restaurants in America reinventing the Filet-O-Fish.

Filet-O-Fishball Sandwich at Oma’s Hideaway (Portland, Oregon)

The filet-o-fishball sandwich from Oma’s Hideaway in Portland, Oregon.

Courtesy of Oma’s Hideaway

Although the Filet-O-Fishball sandwich has become a beloved classic at Oma’s Hideaway, Thomas Pisha-Duffly (who co-owns the restaurant with his wife, Mariah) was initially wary of the iconic McDonald’s menu item. “I love fast food of all kinds,” he admits. “But part of me always felt that McDonald’s food was — and is — somewhat suspect. Seafood from a fast food restaurant always seemed unwise to me.” That is, until one day, his brother-in-law forced him to try one. “I took a bite and immediately turned the car around,” he laughs. “I ordered two more.”

Oma’s Hideaway is inspired by Chinese-Malaysian cuisine, and their fishball sandwich reflects the frenetic deliciousness of Southeast Asian hawker culture. Served on a milk bun, griddled and slathered in butter, the Filet-O-Fishball sandwich contains three essential parts: (1) the fishball patty, which is in essence, a farce – a mishmash of shrimp, squid, and featherback fish. “I had this fishball recipe in my pocket; I was using it for noodle soups, sautes, and garnishes,” recounts Pisha-Duffly. Fish sauce, white pepper, and chiles also find their way into the paste, which is then spread flat into sheets and steamed, before they’re breaded and fried. (2) Shredded lettuce, a.k.a. “Shredduce.” (3) And achar tartar sauce, a briny homage to Pisha Duffly’s oma, or grandma, Kiong Tien “Tina” Vanderberg. “She always used to keep a big jug of these pickles,” he remembers. “There were cauliflower, green beans, shallots, and cucumbers [laced with] turmeric, so it was kind of sweet.”

Filet-O-French at Le Bouchon (Chicago)

The Filet-O-French from Le Bouchon in Chicago, Illinois.

Raphael Brion

They like puns at Le Bouchon, a cozy French bistro in Chicago’s Bucktown neighborhood. Every Halloween, the restaurant plays dress up. One year it was “Homard Rouge” (a riff on Red Lobster), and then another year it was “Oliver Garden,” a play-on-words based on the owner, Oliver Poilevey’s name and the home of endless breadsticks.

The restaurant’s Filet-O-French started as a joke, explains Henry Zimmerman, Le Bouchon’s chef de cuisine and the culinary mastermind behind the sandwich. “It seems frequently that a pun will inspire a dish and morph into something incredible, and the Filet-O-French came up naturally.”

It all starts with the French brandade patty, where salted cod, garlic, and potatoes are cooked down and simmered slowly and pureed. Then, square-shaped patties are encrusted in panko breadcrumbs and fried golden brown. There’s also a tartar sauce made with a garden’s worth of fines herbs (here a mix of chives, tarragon, and chervil), fennel slaw, and the final touch: a mini French flag toothpick on top. “How else would you know it’s French?” says Zimmerman.

Hot Cod Sando, Daybird (Los Angeles)

The fish sando from Daybird in Los Angeles.

Courtesy of Daybird

Chef Mei Lin is no stranger to the spotlight: she won the 12th season of Top Chef and worked as Oprah Winfrey’s personal chef. But when the Chinese-born chef dropped the Hot Cod Sando at Daybird, her fast-casual Szechuan restaurant, the virality felt different. “With social media, there’s been a bit of false advertisement. Yes, it’s $80. But it’s a $20 fish sandwich with a $60 supplement for caviar,” Lin explains. “And $60 is the cost of our caviar, so we’re not upselling it in any way, which is unheard of in any type of restaurant.”

For $60, you’ll receive an entire tin of Astrea Kaluga Caviar, which, for math nerds, equals one ounce or 30 grams of caviar. “It’s very indulgent,” says Lin. “Caviar is my favorite luxury ingredient, so it’s a great way to introduce it to people who haven’t had it before.” Plus, since there is so much caviar interspersed in the sandwich’s tartar sauce, you can also use it to dip your fries into.

Fish Filet Sandwich, Sắp Sửa (Denver)

The fried catfish sandwich from Sap Sua in Denver, Colorado.

Courtesy of Sap Sua

“We took a lot of inspiration from a northern Vietnamese dish called chả cá lã vọng, which is like a turmeric-rubbed white fish that’s sautéed with onions and dill,” says Ni Nguyen, who owns Sắp Sửa, a “nontraditional Vietnamese restaurant” with his wife, Anna. The batter they use is a certified spice bomb, a potent blend of garlic powder, onion powder, all-purpose flour, soda, water, and turmeric, which gives their fish patties an extra golden glow. Then, there’s the cabbage slaw, in which purple and green cabbage are given a rough chop and then dressed in yuzu-kosho aioli. “We whip it up with Kewpie mayo, season it with salt, and let those two ingredients talk to each other. It’s bright. Almost punches you in the mouth,” says Nguyen.

For Sắp Sửa, the fish filet sandwich is pure joy. “I was hanging out with our chef de cuisine, Ben Carolon, and Theo Bobor, one of our line cooks, and the Filet-O-Fish came up,” he remembers. The next day, the two came back with a prototype. “We tasted it and all sort of giggled. It felt healing, right?” A similar phenomenon occurs with customers. “I walk up to a table and drop off the dish,” says Nguyen, “And they look like a 12-year-old excited version of themselves. The inner child is happy, you know?”

Chili Crisp Fish Sandwich, Uncle Wolfie’s (Milwaukee)

The chili crisp fish sandwich from Uncle Wolfie’s in Milwaukee.

Courtesy of Marty Peters / Uncle Wolfie’s

“I think it’s funny because it’s one of my most popular dishes, and I didn’t even put too much thought into it. Basically, I wanted to have fast food and dried chili fish at the same time,” says chef Kristen Schwab. “I do all of these chef-y things and then this is what [gets a reaction]?” She runs Uncle Wolfie’s, a Milwaukee brunch spot by day that transforms into the Wolf at night, an Indonesian fine dining joint — a Midwest rarity. Schwab has become known for her Southeast Asian cooking, often introducing Midwestern diners to flavors and ingredients they’ve never encountered before. “People ask, ‘Why is there an Asian fish sandwich on the menu?’ My entire family is from Indonesia, that’s why.”

For the patty, Schwab uses fresh tilapia, which is soaked overnight in buttermilk then attacked with a barrage of seasonings: Szechuan peppercorn, white pepper, a bit of black pepper, MSG, and a pinch of salt. Then, raw onions, her signature “Wolf’s Blood” chile crisp, housemade pickles, exactly two slices of American cheese, and preserved mustard green tartar sauce: “Because that sounded better than basic tartar sauce, right?” she laughs.

Fi-Lao O’Fish, Baan Mae (Washington, D.C.)

Chef Seng’s Fi’Lao o’ Fish from Baan Mae in Washington DC.

Courtesy of Baan Maae

The secret to the Fi-Lao O’Fish sandwich? Jeow som, a sweet and sour chile lime sauce made with an aromatic blend of fresh chiles, fresh garlic, cilantro, fish sauce, and lime juice. “It’s one of these favorite sauces in Laos that is very simple,” says chef Seng Luangrath, the chef-owner of vibrant Southeast Asian restaurant Baan Mae in Washington, D.C. “Most of our diners are like, ‘Oh, there’s a kick to it.'” Born in Laos, Luangrath moved first to a Thailand refugee camp before immigrating to the United States, where she remembers being excited to eat at McDonald’s. “As refugees back then, we were living off food stamps and were living off a tight budget. So, when we went out it was like, ‘Let’s go to McDonald’s.’ It was a treat.”