Blame it on the nuns at Our Lady of the Rosary church and school, who drummed it into my head as sure as they did multiplication tables and the importance of regular confessions: fish on Fridays.
You'll be happy to hear, Sister Mary Cecilia, that Atlantic Fish & Chips dispenses just that from a small storefront location in Palm Desert not just Fridays, but six days a week.
The heady aroma of fried fish hits you in the face as soon as you walk in, but that whiff, and the drooling that's sure to follow, is what will propel you to the counter to place your order.
Fish and chips in several incarnations, from a one-piece Lunch Snack ($4.13) to a 12-piece Fish Boat ($29.99) are offered. Other types of seafood, including shrimp, scallops, clams and halibut, are served, too.
I chose a combination platter that includes two fish, three squash, fries and slaw, for $7.55. The food arrived quickly, on a slice of waxed paper nestled onto a plastic plate the size of a Frisbee. The fish portions were very large, battered and fried to a perfect golden brown. While fairly thick, the batter was not at all greasy, and the fish underneath was white and flaky.
The "squash" turned out to be fried zucchini — big rounds of sliced zucchini are battered and fried quickly to ensure the vegetable doesn't get mushy inside. The accompanying fries were thick and crisp; I couldn't finish the generous portion.
I was pleasantly surprised by the slaw. Most restaurants give you a teeny portion of shredded stuff in a squiggly little plastic or paper cup. At Atlantic Fish & Chips, a big scoop of chunks of cabbage and carrot slivers is heaped onto a cake plate. It's excellent; crispy with just the right amount of tang and a lingering celery-seed flavor in the dressing.
Chinese specialties, including stir fry, Kung Pao and eggroll, are also on the menu. You can even substitute fried rice or noodles for fries on fish plates (add $1.50).
The place is small, just eight wood tables each set for four, but everything, including the tile floors, are spotless. Fish and chips purists, take note — along with the ketchup, there's a bottle of malt vinegar on each table.
Even Sister Mary Cecilia would approve.
