It’s been a while since I went out for a decent fishfinger sandwich, infact some previous outings had rather put me off the idea for a spell. Not so this week, when the Mr and I found ourselves out for a local pint and a spot of dinner. As a holiday treat, we head to our closest favourite The Rosebud where we could rely on an array of fresh seafood delights to tantalise our tastebuds. Blame the cooler evenings and a day of drinking for us being faced with their stunning menu and both rather sheepishly admitting that amidst all this haute cuisine glory we could right go a fishfinger sandwich.
Two fat cod fingers battered and measured to exactly fill a perfectly warmed ciabatta roll, gloriously topped with a slightly sweet tartare that I suspect has a mystery ingredient or two. All good, all lovely in fact but the winning touch, the piece de resistance, the stroke of simple bloody genius was the layer of seasoned crushed peas across the bottom half of the roll. I have no idea how they manage this without residual sogginess, but to be honest I don’t need to know.
Lots of other complimentary ‘I’ words.
I award a score of roughly 28 out of 10 and that’s before you consider the side of Godzilla-esque chunky chips and plate price of just six of your English pounds. The search might finally be over.