The Filet-O-Fish Is the Best Thing on McDonald’s Menu

Since I moved to Boston, fast food has gotten less convenient. If you live in a pedestrian-friendly city without a car, it’s often easier to grab a sandwich at a local deli than it is to find some mass-produced fries for under $6 a serving. But there’s one fast food joint that I still find myself at on a semi-regular basis despite telling myself I should never go back after two days of feeling like I have a rock in my stomach. That restaurant, to probably nobody’s surprise, is McDonald’s.

Sure, the fries aren’t what they used to be. And, unfortunately, the eerie, nightmare-inducing mascots of my childhood aren’t there anymore (save Grimace, thank god). But to me, once a child living in the middle-class United States, getting dinner from McDonald’s still sometimes feels like an indulgence, a relatively inexpensive way to treat myself after a particularly long or unpleasant day, a reliable source of deliciousness no matter where I am. And so there I’ll find myself at midnight, bleary-eyed, standing in line at my local McDonald’s, contemplating the buzzing neon displays while waiting to order.

There was a time in my life in which I was a dedicated Big Mac person, mostly because of those tiny diced onions and the signature sauce. But now I have grown, matured. I’ve realized that the star of McDonald’s menu isn’t the flashy forerunner, the “number one,” the flimsy lasagna of a burger ravaged by fistfuls of stringy shredded lettuce. To experience the best the fast food behemoth has to offer, you have to go further down the menu, below the nuggets, the chicken sandwiches, the burgers stacked to various heights. If you blink, you might just miss it.

But then, you see it: the best item on the menu. It’s the Filet-O-Fish, its flawless bun shining, the gold of the American cheese peeking out from under the shelf of bread, a dribble of tartar sauce promising the height of beige flavor. If you’ve never had it before, you’d never understand: It looks simple, too simple, but for some reason, it all works in perfect harmony. The fact that McDonald’s actually managed to make fast food seafood appealing truly is one of the greatest culinary feats our broken food system has ever managed to accomplish.

The seafood-and-dairy pairing isn’t exactly a natural one. The Filet-O-Fish seems like an afterthought, like someone who has only eaten burgers their entire life was tasked to make a fish sandwich, a task they fundamentally understood. You’d think the sandwich would need something light, something fresh, to complement the fried pollock patty; it doesn’t. The three layers—the fried fish, American cheese, tartar sauce—may be the ideal simple sandwich combo.

You can always count on a Filet-O-Fish coming with too much tartar sauce. When you take your first bite, some excess sauce may plop from the sandwich onto the cardboard container it came in. But this is a good thing; tartar sauce and McDonald’s fries are made for one another. Dragging your fries through the excess sauce means you can forget about using ketchup entirely.

Does eating a Filet-O-Fish come with fewer consequences than indulging in a Big Mac? No. I still wake up the next day feeling swollen from the salt intake, my digestive system erratic, cursing myself for actively choosing to eat a meal I knew would make me feel horrible once it started pumping through my veins. But for the 15 glorious minutes I’m working my way through McDonald’s singular fish offering (in the U.S., at least), I am confident that a Filet-O-Fish is the most concentrated dopamine-producing substance in the world. If you can get that rush from a hot yoga class or a dive bar beer or a sporting event, I commend you, envy you even. But as for me and my house, we will eat a fish sandwich.

Samantha Maxwell is a food writer and editor based in Boston. Follow her on Twitter at @samseating.