Every Christmas Eve, my bestie and I have lunch. We gossip, we talk about our plans for the rest of the holidays, and we exchange gifts. This year we tacked on an early-morning yoga class. I'm not even sure if she knows this, but working out with her is one of my favorite things in the world. Yoga in particular, but Pure Barre or even a boring session at the gym- I love it.
This year, like last year, we headed to Mitchell's Fish Market. I had to pick up the mussels I had ordered for my family's traditional post-mass cioppino, so we figured two birds with one stone. I knew the bartender, so we sat at the bar for lunch and I picked my bartender friend's brain over some additions to the menu.
The huge pieces of cod hung over the side of the puffy, yeasty bun. The coleslaw topping was a little bland but benefited greatly from a quick shake of salt and a healthy squirt of Tabasco.
The gumbo alongside was good but I barely remember it. The sliders commanded my full attention. The breading was light, the fish was flaky, I didn't get one Godforsaken mouthful of what I disgustingly refer to as "fry." You know what I mean. A mouthful of batter with no substance. It's a huge disappointment and you feel yourself gaining a pound.
Codwich Sliders at Mitchell's. You won't regret it.