Please Wake the Captain

If by chance you find yourself environed by a wilderness of big box stores and country, your stomach sojourned in a sea devoid of worthwhile culinary delights, the captain of The Boat: Fish and Chips will be more than happy to throw you an onion ring the size of a lifesaver, saving not only your stomach, but maybe even your faith in good treasured food, even if it’s fare as feeble as fish and chips.
And there may be no bodies of water in sight, and The Boat might stick out more than the lighthouse beside it that advertises The Boat’s existence, but when you try the fare, you may be inspired to cast yourself out to sea, lest your stomach tow you that way.

Don’t worry, I’m not getting soft. Even your dear gastronomer was suspicious of the boat with sailor silhouette, wooden seagulls, and multiple open signs, stranded in the lot of an antique shop. But the novelty of the thing was enough to see if its food was true, especially on a bizarrely warm winter morning in February.

I made my way to the stern and noted the ordering window: shut, dark, and dim. The only thing to grab the attention of the figure manning the kitchen was a buzzer and a crude, but tenderly written, sign courteously asking customers to wake the captain when they were ready to order. I, on the other hand, was lucky enough to have been spotted eying the posted menu by the captain himself.
Aside from a roadhouse literally manifesting nautical kitsch, the menu did a good job of maintaining the same seaside theme, keeping in mind the typical canned drinks and odd menu option of a POGO. A branded corn-dog that some of us may be familiar with. That’s as much as the menu strays from its genre, I think. But that’s a small fault. Otherwise, it’s a Maritimer’s dream. Simple, straightforward, to the point. Enough meal options to satisfy any passerby, and so little that they all fit on the back of the place’s business card. That was more than enough for me. But if that isn’t waveless enough for you, the prices will be enough to make you drift happily out to sea. So affordable, it’s a wonder this boat stays afloat, but I’m definitely not complaining. The food is well worth it and the price makes it seem too good to be true. For a slash fund of 8 (tax included) dollars I was happily spoiled with fries that flooded out of a box, stuffed with a fillet of battered haddock, coleslaw, and the captain’s own humble dessert of the day: a sinful medallion of deep fried chocolate. And just in case that wasn’t enough to satisfy me, I did myself the service of ordering an equally large box of 5 dollar onion rings, displayed to me like a wedding proposal, but big enough to be worn like bracelets. A 13 dollar meal that could easily satisfy two seafaring people.

My batter had just enough salt, was light like a cloud with a crispy silver lining. It cracked and shattered as I chopped my fork into it, my lemon wedge’s juice rolled right off its golden concentration, and the haddock, though moist, still managed to have a smooth and feathery, yet toothy bite.

My deep, purple hued fries were rich and meaty. The bits of skin left on their edges gave them not only an earthy reserve, but a deep charred undertow. I would have liked them crispier, but when packed like they were in a box, it’s hard to avoid any sweats. Not to worry though, dear readers, the Captain had a solution for that. Charred right under the burner in the oven at 350 degrees- and I’ll be damned if it didn’t work. I’m still astounded by the cook’s trade secret.
My coleslaw was a mere affection. The artificial processed stuff we come across at so many other eateries (though I have to admit, a guilty pleasure). However, that said, there was too much right going on to really feel wronged.

My onions, fried in a batter of pepper and dill were nothing out of the ordinary, but certainly done appropriately: the crisp batter was balanced by the natural sweetness of the onions, which, I might add, didn’t pull apart like the chewy strings that make the fare so off-putting. The captain certainly runs a tight ship.
And my chocolate fritter? I’m at a loss for something that was so satisfying. A waffled texture and a thick chewy centre (not runny) with a nice cinnamon note that had me wondering how it was done, and how much more decadent it could be, as blue collar as it was. Love at first bite? I think so. That said, let The Boat’s Sirenic foods call you out. Don’t be fools and leave it stranded.

THE BOAT: FISH AND CHIPS
805 King Street North
Waterloo, ON
(NO NUMBER)

THURS-SUN 11AM- 7PM 

CASH ONLY

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