Pretty Girl Plate of sushi includes: a Pretty Girl Roll (a salmon, avocado and pink-soy wrap); a Spicy Lobster Battleship and a two-piece Tuna Nigiri. Photo by Laura Petrilla.

Penn Avenue Fish Co.

2208 Penn Ave., Strip District
412/434-7200

Drop anchor this summer at Penn Avenue Fish Co., where mystery seafood is banished from the sandwiches and tartar (sauce) control is strictly enforced.

Lunch: Mon.-Sat. 9 a.m.-4 p.m.; Fish Sandwiches: $7-$12; Deep-Sea "Chic" (specialty platters): $10-$16; Sushi: $4.25-$15; Takeout, catering, parties. Reservations for large parties. Major credit cards. BYOB. Wheelchair access. Nonsmoking.

 

Fish and Tips

The atmosphere is seafront funk; the fish sandwiches are flat out wonderful, and the techno-trance grooves seem to pulsate to the roiling beat of the Strip District in all of its midday chaos. Penn Avenue Fish Co. (PAFC) is a story about a mirthful, charismatic little galley fish market packed into the bosom of this bustling market district in our most livable city and run by two friends who happened to run into each other at a most perfect time and place. Settled inauspiciously between a shipping business and a Polish deli in the 2200 block of Penn Avenue, it has quietly stolen the lunchtime crowd.

You have to see it in action during a boisterous lunch hour, when salty regulars and straight-from-the-office refugees eat alongside judges, politicians and company presidents, a remarkable social confluence enjoying a relaxed atmosphere with an uncomplicated approach, serving the best fish sandwich I have tasted in years.

Mind you, I was silently meandering through the melancholy reality that there would be no beach vacation this year when I stumbled into some friends with raging appetites and a taste for sushi en route to PAFC. In an instant, I felt as though I had jumped off a bus from Pittsburgh and landed in some sleepy clam shack on the Eastern seaboard, the kind of "joint" where they catch the cherrystone and littleneck clams in bushel bags and sell them over the rail for cash while a few locals sip coffee from tin cups. Except that Penn Avenue Fish Co. is anything but sleepy.

The place is packed to the gills, or shall I say "to the fins." You'll discover the kind of kitschy deep-sea paraphernalia that fill the walls of fish markets all over the world, but here is a continually morphing collection comprised entirely of customer donations. Rambunctious rhythms start to feel natural as we crowd around the chowder bins at the soup bar with everyone else.

They take a lot of time making soups here, from scratch with fresh fish stock. I like the Boston clam chowder, for sure, but there are other palate pleasers: Cold watermelon gazpacho made with seedless melon, cucumber, fresh peppers, lemon and lime revolutionizes my idea of gazpacho; I also enjoyed a deep-sea gumbo with rice, okra and lots of swordfish and salmon; and a Vera Cruz chowder with sambal and fresh cilantro is not for the faint of heart.

Fishmongers in bright-orange Swedish Grundens pants (like the ones the guys wear at Pike Place Market in Seattle) work as if they're slugging clams from the black mud of a New England bay. "We're not afraid to make 'em spicy," they call out. I notice they are all happy to talk seafood - what's in, what's out, how to cook it. "We want to convey the feeling of being at the ocean to someone who's never seen the ocean," says co-owner Henry B. Dewey.

Left: Mussels: Dutch-style with tomato-basil sauce and toasted ciabatta. Photo by Laura Petrilla.

If you start to feel as if you're gumming up the system, I guarantee that just about anyone will explain the Summer of Love philosophy espoused by Dewey and his co-owner, Angela Early; it's an honor system in a fish market. I kid you not. Here's the protocol: Look over the chalkboard and paper menu, then place your order at the counter. Grab a drink from the cooler; get yourself some soup. Someone will deliver your main selections and check on you periodically. When it's time to go, reconstruct the grand total with the cashier. If you've tossed back one too many Margaritas - not to worry. Their memories seem to rival the Great Kreskin's.

"The ambient impact is psychological," notes the Ph.D. among us as we simultaneously lunge for plump mussels steamed in white wine and extra-virgin olive oil, mopping up fresh tomato-basil sauce with fresh, artisan ciabatta toasted to order. To say the mussels are hard to quit is like saying water is wet.

Then come the fish sandwiches. This is where PAFC really stands above the fray. Whether it's a beautiful cut of English cod or innately sorcerous sushi-grade tuna, there's nothing like the supple textures and gentle flavor of fresh fish, so light it all but falls through a fork.

All of the catches are either grilled or broiled, never fried - leaving the days of mystery white fish on soft mushy buns with processed tartar in the dust. PAFC does a lovely grilled swordfish with a tangy ginger barbecue sauce. I love the California tuna with lots of fresh veggies, nice and spicy with jalapeño peppers, but with the cooling effect of fresh avocado.

Also consider fish tacos, a mix of halibut, salmon and tuna in a hard shell with cabbage, cilantro salsa and sriracha, which is an alternative to Tabasco sauce. Or, try the crab taco, also with cabbage, cilantro salsa and sriracha. For blander palates, a tuna melt, tuna club and a crab-cake sandwich with cheddar are crowd-pleasers.

"Sneaky Pete," named for a regular known to don the fishmonger's Grundens overalls after a few glasses of wine from his personal cooler, is a sandwich featuring grilled salmon, hearts of palm, arugula and spicy avocado-wasabi cream on a seven-grain bun. It's also a good source for widely hailed omega-3 fatty acids. "The Happy Jack," a nice take on a deli Rueben/Rachel sandwich, pairs smoked salmon with coleslaw, Monterey Jack cheese and Russian dressing.

All sandwiches come with two sides, one of which is a tasty fresh-cucumber/wasabi slaw.

Oysters and clams are served by the platter, and a sushi bar manned by Jonny Han rivals Mr. Shu at Umi. In fact, the bar is now so popular that Wednesdays have been deemed "all you can eat" sushi day.

Right: Penn Avenue Fish Co. fishmongers in bright-orange Swedish Grundens pants (like the ones the guys wear at Pike Place Market in Seattle) work as if they're slugging clams from the black mud of a New England bay. Photo by Laura Petrilla.

"We specialize in the freshest seasonal fish in Pittsburgh," says Dewey, whose goal is to "keep everything real simple, but profound, with a little touch of creativity." His progressive, health-driven approach comes from a lifelong love of fish. The chef grew up with a fishing pole in his hand, trolling for Spanish mackerel in St. Petersburg, Fla. He has a poet's mind and an impressive dossier that spans kitchens from Coconuts in Key West to Duane Park Café in New York's Tribeca.

In Pittsburgh he worked at Soba and at the Steelhead Grill - "A pleasure for a chef," he remembers, saying he was able to work with "the finest ingredients." Then he went on to spend the last nine years as a fishmonger at Benkovitz Seafood.

Just about the time he began re-examining his life, he ran into his friend Angela Early. The two had worked together at the now-defunct dejAVu Lounge in the Strip District. Long story short, they decided to pursue their passion for opening a fish market. "Everything just fell into place perfectly," they say in tandem, and go on to say that they complement each other very well.

PAFC premiered two years ago, and, as Dewey recalls with a laugh, "Lunch really took off - a little chaos, a lot of excitement." He dreams of fresh grilled salmon as the new iconic Pittsburgh sandwich.

"This is Strip District lunch history in the making," says a friend who starts snapping pictures of the crew with his camera. The group includes fishmongers Jonny Han and Hiroki-San, who hail from Taiwan and Japan, respectively, but everyone is cross-trained and equally proficient at everything from sushi to sandwiches.

PAFC isn't rigged for dessert. You can pick up something from the Blue Bunny cooler, buy a giant cookie at checkout or head to Klavon's Ice Cream Parlor a few doors down.

When we visited PAFC, the sidewalks were refreshingly thick with the age group everyone claims has left town. Before summer's over, suspend your landlocked orientation and pretend to drift, as we did, into a village fish market with no airs, where the ocean feels as if it could be a block away, and the pristine fish makes you wish Penn Avenue Fish Co. were open every night for dinner.

Each month, Deborah McDonald jump-starts appetites with lively restaurant reviews that scrutinize who's cooking what and where. She works anonymously, visiting each restaurant at least twice before writing her column.

Do you know of a restaurant you'd like to have reviewed? E-mail Deborah.

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