McDonald's spices up its Filet-O-Fish with Old Bay

The Old Bay is good. The cheese, not so much.

My favorite culinary regionalism in Baltimore is the practice of dumping Old Bay Seasoning on everything.

Yes, you think of Old Bay for crab or maybe some fish. But here you can also sprinkle it on fries, pork, eggs and even steak without raising any eyebrows. So it was no surprise to find McDonald's branches capitalizing on the local love by adding Old Bay to its long-running Filet-O-Fish sandwiches in Greater Baltimore and some of the surrounding states.

A little more surprising is where the Old Bay goes. It's not in the wild-caught Alaskan Pollock patties themselves, as I'm guessing they're prepared en masse in some factory somewhere that can't be bothered to change up the recipe for a few measly states in the Mid-Atlantic. No, the seasoning ends up in the tartar sauce.

I could understand if we were talking Old Bay mayonnaise, which sounds like a delectable idea. We're not. We're talking pickle relish, chunks and all.

Even so, the Old Bay Filet-O-Fish is an improvement over the more mundane sandwich on which it's based. The extra spice is a nice kick added to a crispy if somewhat flavorless square of fried fish. Things would be better if we were talking Old Bay mayo instead of tartar sauce, but they're not bad.

What is bad is the cheese. McDonald's insists on saddling the Filet-O-Fish with a slice of bright orange terror seemingly closer to petroleum byproduct than dairy product. I'd have taken a picture of the piece left sticking to the packaging after I finished my meal, except I feared it would scar any younger readers for life. That cheese is gastrointestinal crime.

The bun's not much better, as it's closer to a sponge than actual bread. As horrific as those two ingredients sound, however, they can be ignored when you have a good bite of fish slathered in zesty Old Bay. And the sandwiches are a relative deal, going at the price of two for $4. So somehow, the Old Bay Filet-O-Fish swims against the current of its lesser ingredients to grab a pretty good rating.

Three sporks out of five. Pair one with a slippery Shamrock Shake and you'll make your Irish Catholic friends happy while having a March meal to remember.

It's a nice day for a wide-ranging post-wedding post

Today we'll talk about some eateries in the state of the Golden Bear.

Jetting and driving across the country have their downsides.

The main one being that I haven't had a chance to post a new food review in weeks. I went through a minor life change -- marriage -- that had me first flying from Indiana to Syracuse for the ceremony. Then the new wife and I winged from Syracuse to San Francisco for a week that involved driving up to beautiful coastal Mendocino California. We flew back to Syracuse before proceeding to drive across Upstate New York, Ohio and Indiana in order to make it back to Bloomington, where we keep our home.

After that? Rest. Lots of rest.

If it sounds like a whirlwind way to end May and start June, it was. It was also a period of time that wasn't exactly conducive to taking my normally arduous food critiquing notes.

Fortunately I still have enough gray matter left to give a rundown of our trip's high culinary points. They're not going to be as detailed as my usual super-in-depth reviews, but they should be sufficient to give you a flavor of the last few weeks.

I should also mention that we hit restaurants that were all over the map, literally and figuratively. There was fast food. There was haute cuisine. There was a grocery store.

The details of the rehearsal dinner and wedding won't be making it into this post. I either wouldn't do them justice or would bore any of you who were there with too much detail. So we'll just hit the other high points of the last few weeks.


Final meal at Dinosaur Bar-B-Que
A few hours before the wedding, my groomsmen and I convened in downtown Syracuse for a last supper at the famous barbecue joint. We sat at the bar and ordered a combination meal that included ribs, beef brisket, chicken, baked beans, cornbread and mac and cheese. We passed plates and bowls around for a real communal setting that was delicious. You couldn't ask for a better end to single life.

HRD Coffee Shop welcomes us to San Francisco
Acting on my best man's recommendation, my new wife and I stopped by HRD Coffee Shop on the morning of our first full day in California. They have coffee, but they also have some of the best-smelling Korean food I've encountered. We ended up getting a spicy pork Kimchi burrito. I won't spill too many pixels on the place, because it's been featured on Food Network and in a few other publications. Just know to get that burrito. It was the best thing I've eaten this year.

21st Amendment Brewery
We grabbed a lunch at this brewpub, which isn't too far from HRD Coffee Shop. Everything was good. The french fries rose above all else with an exceptional balance between crisp outside and soft inside.





Albion River Inn Restaurant
We did both breakfasts and dinner at the restaurant for this inn that hangs on the craggy shoreline of the Mendocino coast. The view while eating was spectacular, even when fog was rolling in off the ocean. The dinner matched it -- I had a piece of salmon cooked to perfection. Where I was really blown away was the breakfast, however. One day the breakfast special was a shrimp and cream cheese omelet, a concoction that sounds strange and tastes outstanding. The Thanksgiving Coffee Company, located up the coast in Fort Bragg, makes an Albion River Inn Blend. It's subtle and smooth and everything you want on vacation.

Whole Foods
On our way back down to San Francisco we stopped to grab coffee at Whole Foods. I gaped at the prices. I felt bad for a kid who knocked over a bottle of wine. It was OK.

In-N-Out Burger
This place was hopping, even though I got there at 9 p.m. to pick up a late dinner before retreating to our pre-flight hotel room. Sorry In-N-Out Burger, but that's my biggest impression of you. It was the end of my trip, I was tired, and I was blown away by how busy you were.

A wintertime threefer: McDonald's Grilled Onion Cheddar Burger, McFish Bites and Shamrock Shake

Quite the McBundle sits on our plate today, foodies. A road trip this weekend had me pulling into the golden arches with an empty stomach and driving out with an interesting haul in my bag.

Needless to say, it wasn't your boring old run-of-the-mill Happy Meal. I pick my food a la carte, and did I ever go a la carting! My order consisted of a Grilled Onion Cheddar Burger, Fish McBites and my favorite seasonal ice cream, a Shamrock Shake. Two of these foods are new to me, while the third needs some revisiting.

Yes, you read that right. Two of the foods are new to me. The fish and the beef.

I can hear you shouting at your computer screens now: How can this be true? How can this cheese-onion-beef contraption be new when the food critique tackled it just a few months ago? It received high marks for taste and low ones for name!

Please don't send nasty emails. At least, don't send them to me. McDonald's has two burgers that prominently feature onionage in their name. There's the Grilled Onion Cheddar Burger I'm reviewing today. And then there's the much pricier Cheddar, Bacon, Onion, or CBO, which I reviewed in November.

The Grilled Onion Cheddar Burger costs a buck. The CBO will leave you out of the better part of a $10 bill. So the moral of the nomenclature appears to be that acronyms are expensive.

Speaking of exes, today's lead-in is getting a bit expansive. Especially considering what I have planned -- I'm giving you a quick few paragraphs on each of the foods from my trip to the house that Ronald built. Let's cross to the critiquing now.

Grilled Onion Cheddar Burger
Nothing would please me more than to rave about this bargain-priced burger with a mouthful of a moniker and wave my applause in the face of the tasty but pricey and ill-named CBO. Unfortunately, the Grilled Onion Cheddar Burger is nowhere near as good to the mouth as its upmarket big brother.

For starters, the beef isn't up to snuff. The burger with the long name is basically a classic McDonald's hamburger with the ketchup, mustard and diced onions swapped out for a generous helping of grilled onions. Oh, the cheese gets a slight upgrade, too.

One upgrade that was missed is the moisture content. McDonald's drowns its classic burgers in condiments for a reason, and that reason is they're incredibly dry. Grilled onions don't fix this. In fact, their smoky flavor exacerbates the problem.

The saving grace is the price. Three sporks out of five. Just make sure you take some of that cash you saved and buy a drink.

Fish McBites
The little balls of fish known as Fish McBites provide an opportunity to continue my study of McDonald's naming techniques. The golden arches tags the "Mc" prefix onto sandwiches' meat, but when it comes to small chunks, the restaurant stitches it onto a shape descriptor.

Think about it. The McRib is a sandwich. Chicken McNuggets and Fish McBites are finger foods.

I'll be the first to admit that I didn't explain that particularly well. Perhaps some linguist somewhere can perform a study and publish an academic paper. In the mean time, I'll dock Fish McBites to two sporks out of five because I had trouble explaining my theory inspired by their name. Worse, they smelled far, far too fishy. And they looked like hush puppies without any of the soul-food goodness of hush puppies.

Shamrock Shake
I'm not backing down on giving this delicious green concoction poor ratings until it comes out of its ridiculously slippery plastic cup. McDonald's had the gall to serve me one with an absurd amount of whipped cream on top with an even more absurd cherry.

Bring back paper cups for milkshakes and get rid of that mess above the ice cream. McDonald's isn't a mid-century soda shop, and none of us want it to be. Zero sporks out of five.

Food poisoning: Part I of when good food goes bad

Things can go wrong when you're eating in a restaurant. Then you're left spitting an undercooked burger into a trash can or waiting in a 20-minute line when you're already late for work. It's time to take a look at the dark side of the food industry.

Getting sick of food isn't a big deal. Just eat something else. But getting sick from food can leave you with a permanent sour taste in your mouth.

Now, there are different varieties of food poisoning. Some of them are more severe than others. Last week I think I picked up one of the less-serious types.

But it's hard to be sure if you really have food poisoning, or even if you're sick. So I'm going to conceal the establishment that I believe passed me a little stomach-borne bug. I wouldn't want to unfairly ruin their reputation.

I picked up a tuna-sub at the unnamed establishment and began chowing down. Before I started I was pretty hungry for tuna. By the time I finished, I really didn't want to taste tuna for the rest of my life. That probably should have been a warning to stop eating.

Yet I continued to eat like some sort of little old lady swallowing a fly. I don't know why I did it, but I paid for it later.

Fortunately nothing came back up the hatch. My stomach just twisted itself into knots and rejected any notion of food. The next day was the killer, though. When I woke up in the morning, every muscle in my body ached and I couldn't shake that exhausted feeling. It was similar to dehydration or the sensation you get from a low-grade fever. Only the aches were worse and I drank plenty of water to rehydrate. Plus, I had a normal temperature.

It took a day before I started to feel better. That's a trademark of food poisoning: It doesn't last much more than 24 hours but makes you feel terrible.

Looking back, I can't be sure it was food poisoning. But it doesn't matter. I don't trust the tuna from this unnamed establishment anymore. And that's where the good food really went bad. I can no longer eat a meal I like because of a bad experience.

Let that be a lesson to you. When your tuna tastes fishy, throw it back. If you don't you could be up the creek without a paddle.

Fish free-for-all

Now that I’ve had some time to sample a few kinds of fish & chips here in London, it’s time to report on the true state of the meal in England and compare it to my experience at Arthur Treacher’s last spring.

First, it’s important to lay down my sampling of fish & chips both in the UK and in the states. In the states, I’ve eaten the meal from Arthur Treacher’s of course, and from a delicious Irish pub in Syracuse called Kitty Hoynes. Here in London, I’ve had it on three occasions: once sitting down at a restaurant that advertised it and cooked it to order, once as take-away from a walk-in restaurant that scooped up a piece of fried fish and some chips from under a heat lamp, and once from a stand beside the Tower of London.

You probably know the prices to expect to pay in the US: About four or 5 bucks at Arthur Treacher’s or $8-9 at a pub. Here in London, you might as well replace the dollar sign with a pound symbol. That would all be fair and well, except for the fact that the dollar is currently worth a little less than half a pound. For those of you who aren’t too good with money (and judging from the current credit-crisis in the US, there are a lot of you) that can mean paying close to 18 bucks for one meal!

In fact, that’s almost what I paid in the sit-down restaurant. Fish, chips and mushy peas were something like £8.95. In the first shop I ate them at, my fish & chips came rolled in a piece of brown paper and cost about £5. In a strange twist, the stand next to the tourist trap Tower of London was a bargain of £2.50. That is the lowest I have seen fish & chips, and is actually cheaper than eating out nearly anywhere I’ve found in London. Even stranger, that price included a can of soda! Go figure.

Here in London, the presentation of your fish & chips will vary depending on where you eat. That’s a little disappointing, given the traditional image of a fried piece of cod and greasy fries nestled in a roll of newsprint is unfulfilled. In fact, you really can’t get fish & chips in newspaper anymore. The closest I came was a brownish paper that was probably a lot cleaner than newsprint, but definitely lacked in character. But if your chips aren’t rolled in paper, which happens more often than it should, they will be on a plate if you order in a pub or sit-down restaurant, or can be in a Styrofoam container, as were mine from beside the Tower of London.

The actual quality of the food will obviously also vary. When I ate sitting down, the fish was very good but could not have been eaten while walking. It simply would have fallen apart because it was too flakey. The other two times I ate the meal, I got a nice solid piece of fish that was fried together in a very solid way. Those suckers weren’t going to fall apart if I dropped it back into the ocean.

Oddly enough, the best overall fish & chips I had were the cheapest, and not just because of their bargain price. The fish, while it wasn’t as good as at the sit-down restaurant, was still very good, and the chips were piping hot. That price didn’t hurt, either. That basically goes to show that getting food fish & chips here is hit-or-miss. The second place I got them from, which is also the middle price range, was not of high quality. It couldn’t beat Arthur Treacher’s.

So the conclusion is that depending on where you go, you can get either great fish & chips or you can get mediocre fish & chips here in London – just like you can get either great fish & chips or mediocre fish & chips in the states, depending on where you go.

The real difference lies in the price, and in the condiments, which I have previously not mentioned. The British eat a lot of mayonnaise and vinegar. That isn’t a stereotype, and it isn’t over exaggerated in American’s minds. They eat the stuff on everything. It is also delicious on fish & chips. I’ve even found a new love for fries with mayonnaise on them.

In the end, your actual food will probably be more expensive than it would be in the US, and it might not even be as good. Despite all the evidence that shows fish & chips in London isn’t significantly better than fish & chips in the US, I have to say I enjoy fish & chips here a little more. There is some feeling to eating the meal while walking down a windy street in central London that you just don’t get from eating it in the United States.

It really doesn’t boil down to price, and it really doesn’t boil down to quality. I suppose it just fries down to tradition. Just like a cheese steak at a Phillies game seems better because it is renowned in the region, fish & chips in London just seem better.

Next post, I’ll try to address the strange issue of mushy peas. We won’t talk history or anything like that – even I’m not crazy enough to look up the history of mushy peas. Still, there’s something to be said about this odd British companion to fish & chips. As soon as I figure out what it is, I’ll type it up and let you know.

Chipping in on Something Fishy

I received confirmation that I will by studying in London next semester (Fall 2007) from Syracuse University's study abroad program a few weeks ago. Naturally, I wanted to begin my adaptation to the British lifestyle immediately. I have yet to start calling the hood of my car the bonnet, but I have been making a concerted effort to eat more fish and chips. In this case, I stopped at the Carousel Mall in Syracuse and bought the fish and chips dinner combo at Arthur Treacher's.

It is important to note that I have an unparalleled love for fish. The kind of love in those classic romance tales "West Side Story" and "You've Got Mail." I don't need much of an excuse to rush out and eat fish and chips. In fact, the night before I ate at Treacher's, my girlfriend and I ate at an Irish pub in downtown Syracuse, Kitty Hoynes, and I ate fish and chips there.

The two meals of fish and chips in less than 20 hours gave me a great chance to compare Treacher's to a more expensive restaurant. In brief, the food at Kitty Hoynes was divine. The beer battered fish essentially melted in my mouth and the chips (known as french fries in less civilized countries) were quite good. It was steaming hot, the atmosphere was filled with Celtic wonder, and it was the day before St. Patrick's day.

Needless to say, Arthur Treacher's in the food court of Carousel Mall at noon on March 17 did not quite live up to the Irish precedent set by Kitty Hoynes. Somehow the Atrium of the mall's food court was not jumping with celtic flutes and art or Guinness. I don't necessarily have a problem with that, considering one of my original goal in eating at Treacher's was not to soak up Irish life, but to bask in the glory of British Cuisine. Confusing the Irish and the British is not a silly mistake I wish to make. Still, I don't think the most British Fish and Chips spots have small birds flying between Wendy's and Taco Bell because they somehow got trapped in the huge glass monstrosity that is the mall.

Regardless, Treacher's food was not too bad, considering the amazing standard that had been set by my meal the previous night. For a little over six bucks I got two pieces of fried fish, chips (large crinkle cut fries) and two hush puppies. The fish was piping hot and pretty tasty, albeit the batter did not melt in my mouth. The chips were a little on the cool side by the time I finished them, and that led to a little stiffness and sogginess, depending on the particular piece of potato. The hush puppies were as good as any I have eaten. That might not be saying much since the only time I ever eat hush puppies is at Arthur Treacher's.

Speaking of the hush puppies, I don't quite know why they are included in Treacher's meal. I was always under the impression that hush puppies originated in the Southern United States, not the shores of the United Kingdom. Since the Union Jack adorns both sides of the banner that proclaims "Fish & Chips" in Treacher's logo, there might be some discontinuity here. Either I am mistaken, or the head chef at Treacher's is. Either way, it seems like a fishy synergy of foods.

For those of you keeping count, Treacher's meal also gives you a medium fountain drink for your six Washington's. There isn't much to say about it, though. The most notable thing is that they have pink lemonade, which I find to be awfully sweet but somehow appealing.

My biggest disappointment at Treacher's is the way the food is served -- cafeteria style. Grab a tray, slap a styrofoam plate on it and fill with fish, chips, and hush puppies. I would like something a little more British -- wrap mine in newspaper please. Oh well, if you eat in a food court, you shouldn't expect to feel like you're grabbing a quick bite before taking the Tube to work.

In the end, the Arthur Treacher's fish and chips meal is a pretty tasty low price alternative to a more expensive joint. I applaud any fast food joint that serves fish of better quality than McDonald's, and Treacher's was serving me some aquatic food that was at least the quality the Gordon's Fisherman would bring home. I could have used better chips, and perhaps a third piece of fish instead of this hush puppies, but that is a minor complaint. I actually ate one hush puppy first because I was quite hungry and waiting for my fountain drink to be filled. It isn't right to complain about the inclusion of the food you eat first. (This is also why there is only one hush puppy in the picture -- I was so ravenous that I scarfed it down before breaking out the camera.)

All of this adds up to give the fish and chips at Arthur Treacher's a solid four out of five sporks. A newspaper, some better batter, and hotter chips would probably bump this meal into the rarefied air of five-spork territory, but you can't overlook a few of the disappointments in the meal. As long as you aren't expecting to feel like you're in Europe, this is a pretty good meal for a fast food joint. Now, in six months I'll let you know how much better fish and chips are in the U.K.