nthony's Express is a fast food version of Anthony's, a famous seafood restaurant that has two locations in San Diego. It's basically slightly better quality Red Lobster, while their Anthony's Express restaurants are sort of Taco Bell versions of Red Lobster. The food is mostly the same, but it's served without the sides you normally get, in smaller portions, much more quickly, and for lower prices.

While I was initially dubious about them, I grew to like them, mostly since I loved their shrimp 'n fish 'n chips platter, which was relatively affordable (during 2002 and 2003 when I still lived in San Diego and ate there semi-regularly) and great to pick up on my way home from work.

I wrote about Anthony's Express numerous times in the blog, but mostly in very short mentions of picking some up on the way home. The entries on this page are the few longer ones I made on the subject, though by far my longest entry ever about Anthony's Express can be seen here, since while the weird events detailed therein took place in Anthony's Express, the location they took place in was largely irrelevant to the events themselves.

July 29, 2002

ting out with dad, and the first question was, what to eat? I decided that I wanted a fish sammich.

Damnit.

After some debate as to where one might best be obtained, we compromised on the Anthony's Express in Mission Valley.  There are two Anthony's in San Diego, and they are big seafood restaurants.  Normal sit down places, medium-high prices, decent food, slightly better quality than Red Lobster, if that gives you some basis of comparison.

Not content with the big restaurants, Anthony's has recently opened up a few faster food versions of themselves in other locations, trying to get more business and compete for the quick diner market.  These Express places have nearly identical menus, including wine lists, but less items, none of the elaborate/expensive meals, and much quicker service, with all the charming ambiance of a Taco Bell.  Most people get fish and chips or a simple grilled fillet of something at them, and you are in and out before you can get through a loaf of sourdough and your clam chowder at a normal seafood place.

Anyway, I figured they'd have a decent fish sammich, and dad likes fish and chips, so off we went.

I figured wrong.

They had 5 sandwiches on the menu, and none sounded any good.

• Tuna fish with melted cheese.

• Squid sandwich.

• Chopped salmon sandwich.

• Battered-cod sandwich.

• Grilled chicken sandwich.

Objections:

• I can make my own tuna salad.

• I'm not eating squid steak.

• I don't want salmonburger.

• I have a bag of cod fillets in the freezer.

• I didn't come to a seafood restaurant to eat chicken.

The other problem is that when searching for ingredients for a decent fish sammich I could make at home (as a break from my usual Boca Burgers, Garden Burgers, and Shiitake Burgers, all of which I have in the freezer now) I picked up a 3lbs bag of frozen fish (cod) fillets at Price Club last week.  I've had one, and it wasn't very good.  Too thin to fry up well, it sort of disintegrated.  It was pretty tasty on a sandwich, but I was wanting more of a burger-shaped thing, I think.

I got the battered cod, while thinking "Isn't battered-cod a fish stick?"

The sandwich arrived, and as I had feared, it was "fish". As in half of an order of "fish and chips".  There were three of them on a long, sub-style bun, with tomatoes and some lettuce.  Not awful, but that's basically a fish taco in bread.  I was thinking more of a burger-like thing.  Probably that's what the squid sandwich is. Pity it's made from squid.

Anyway, it wasn't bad. I ate half there, enjoyed their adequate FFs, and brought the other half home, where I took out the fish, scraped off residual mayo, threw the bread away, and heated them up in the oven on 350 for about 5 minutes, and ate them with some ketchup.

The funny thing is that my sandwich was $5.95.  The fish and chips there is like $6.95 for two piece, and $8.50 for three piece.  It comes with fries and coleslaw.  So I essentially got:

3 piece fish and chips
+ a bun with lettuce and tomato and mayo
- coleslaw
__________
for $2 less than the three-piece fish and chips my dad ordered.

If I were wanting to eat there again, and really cheap, I would consider ordering the cod sandwich, and asking for the fish on the side of the bun/tomato/lettuce.  The $2 less would pay for a drink and tip. (It's not a real tip, since there's no waiter service, other than them bringing your order to your table, and most people leave them nothing.  So I'm being generous with $1.)

I sort of like their fish and chips, but that's a lot of grease for one meal with nothing really to soak it up, and their FFs are mediocre at best.

One odd thing is their condiments.  They have numerous bottles of malted vinegar, tartar sauce, Tabasco sauce, and several other odd things, but no ketchup.  Given that 90% of the orders include French fries, and lots of people like ketchup on their fried fish, this seems a curious omission.  They bring you a little plastic tub of ketchup and another of tartar sauce when you get your order, and if you ask they'll bring you more ketchup, but why not just have some bottles out for self-serve?

Some months later, in fall 2002, they had their one-year anniversary, and at that time Fish and Chips were on sale for just $3.99 for a three-piece.  One weekend only.  I got them after work two days in a row, and really enjoyed them, though their "to go" service speed is abominable.  Ten minutes easy, for food that requires 3 minutes in the deep fry.  Plus you don't get any slaw when you get it to go, but do if you get it in the restaurant, and more FFs too.  I'd recommend getting it for there, and as soon as it comes asking for a doggy bag and taking off.

They do have a cool molded foam box for the take out Fish and Chips though.  It's got two compartments, one slightly larger than the other.  The fish goes in the larger one, and it's a very firm, plastic-like foam, with air holes in the top.  Keeps the fries and fish quite warm, but not soggy.

All site content copyright "Flux" (Eric Bruce), 2002-2007.