Ranking Fast Food's Fried Fish Sandwiches From Worst To First

In what has now become a well-worn piece of fast food legend, the birth of the drive-thru fish sandwich almost never happened. And just like the pop-top can, the hot dog, and the rubber boot, we have a small town in Ohio to thank for this rather fishy invention.

The year was 1959, and Cincinnati-area McDonald's franchisee Lou Groen had a major problem: his new business simply wasn't driving the revenue he expected. Groen suspected that the area's 87 percent Catholic population was a factor — they weren't visiting his humble hamburger stand on Fridays and during Lent, when Catholics traditionally forgo meat.

Groen had an idea for creating an alternative fish-based sandwich that would appeal to locals, and in the early days of the McDonald's corporation, franchisees could simply pick up the phone and speak to Ray Kroc directly.

According to the Smithsonian, Kroc initially hated the idea of "[stinking up his stores] with the smell of fish." In 1962, Kroc's counter offer was the ill-fated "Hula Burger," which featured a wildly undesirable slice of grilled pineapple with cheese on a bun. After testing both concepts, the newly-minted  "Filet-O-Fish" was the clear winner, and the product became a bonafide hit for McDonald's, eventually selling 300 million of the sandwiches each year.

In the nearly 60 years since the invention of the Filet-O-Fish, fast food fried fish sandwiches have become big business. But which chain does it the best? We tried every single one of them to find out.

If you're thinking "Hey, it's not Fish-n-Shake!" Yeah, we love that joke too. Despite the diner fare menu options, the fish sandwich isn't a regular everyday item, but one that makes an appearance during the Lenten season.  You might find a random Steak-n-Shake carrying it outside of the usual spring season, but that's pretty rare.

Steak-n-Shake's standard fish usually comes with lettuce, tomato, and tartar sauce.  If you order one, there's a good chance they'll ask you if you want lettuce and tomato — and if they don't, you'll end up with just fish, tartar sauce, and bun. 

There are a few problems with this sandwich. Like most places that don't specialize in fish, the presentation is odd. You will get two triangle-ish pieces of fish on a bun — the same ones from the grocery store (it seems). The bun is the standard hamburger bun, and truthfully it doesn't hold up on the fish nearly as well as it does on a burger. The big problem with the fish is the tartar sauce; Steak-n-Shake apparently thinks since they have it, they should put on enough to drown a guppie. It's almost universal that you'll get way too much tartar sauce and eating this will be a hot mess. Look, jjust because you only have tartar sauce for 40 days, it doesn't mean you need to put a metric ton on every bun.

This sandwich suffered from the biggest deviation between the glamor shot featured on the menu, and the actual product we received. A glance at the product photography leads you to believe you'll be receiving a plump cod, "hand-cut from a whole fillet," lovingly coated in Panko breadcrumbs and nestled in a buttered bun.

Instead, the Premium Cod Fillet Sandwich from Wendy's couldn't have been more disappointing. While it was nice to see a fish fillet with something resembling a natural shape and appealing, mildly-flavored texture, and the coating offered plenty of crunch, the inattention to the rest of the details cost the sandwich big points. Preparation was an issue as well; the sandwich we received was served at somewhere just south of room temperature, adorned with a chilly slice of unmelted, firm, and flavorless American cheese that definitely was not requested. The slightly stale (though severely squashed) bun barely held the whole thing together, and the overall sandwich ended up feeling oddly dry, in spite of a respectable smear of tangy, flavorful tartar sauce.

If Hardee's/Carl Jr. (which is the same place, basically) were a state, they'd be Texas. Everything they carry is just big, and they're proud of it. Sometimes the name is just big, like the fish sandwich, which goes by Redhook Beer Battered Fish Sandwich. If that sounds partially familiar to you, well Redhook is a real beer in the "craft" variety.  

The Hardee's/Carl's Jr. fish sandwich is the same at both locations — just like with their chicken sandwich and 99 percent of everything else on their menu. Yes, it's big, but not really in the redonkulous variety of everything else they serve, but still there is a lot of fish going on here (probably too much). The standard order should come with lettuce, tomato, and way too much tartar sauce... should because for some reason it seems like a tomato misses the order more times than it hits it. Regardless, it's actually not a bad sandwich. The fish is flaky for the most part, and tastes like it lived in the sea at some point in its existence. The problem is the bun seemingly never holds up under the weight of all that tartar and Orca-sized filet. It'll do in a pinch if you're hankering for something from the sea.

Hang on!  Before you jump in your vehicle of choice and head down to the local Long John Silver's to try a sandwich, you better make sure they actually have a sandwich on the menu. There's a good chance that the Long John Silver's near you doesn't serve a sandwich. Does the Long John Silver's nearby also masquerade as a Taco Bell? Odds are they won't carry the sandwich. If there's a KFC/Long John Silver's combo, they might carry the sandwich. An old school, standalone Long John Silver's? They better have the sandwich.  

Let's just say that if by chance they do indeed have the sandwich... here's what you'll get. It's on a hoagie roll with lettuce, pickles, and a healthy dose of tartar sauce, and it's going to be the same diamond shaped piece of fish you get in the basket that you should be ordering — so the fish is fine and the tempura batter is still crunchy. The bread and toppings really serves as "extras" for a fish that can stand alone. If you're going to Long John Silver's you're probably not going for a sandwich, and it should stay that way. Not to mention the fact that if you want one, you're going to have to hunt for it — and it's definitely not worth the hunt.

Culver's has quite the eclectic menu; there aren't a lot of places that carry things like a pork sandwich and a pot roast sandwich. They naturally carry a fish sandwich as well — the North Atlantic Cod Sandwich. Just like Culver's builds its chicken untraditionally, the cod is laid out differently than most.  

On a buttered hoagie roll (but not super long, sort of a mini-hoagie), sits the fish with lettuce, shredded cheese, and a unique tartar sauce. That tartar sauce is very mild, and though it's advertised as having olives, capers, and sweet relish, it's more like a light mayonnaise. The beauty of Culver's is that everything is cooked to order, so you're going to get a super fresh piece of cod, and it's a nice healthy size. You can even make a strong case that the bun is the best of any fast food fish sandwich. 

Culver's fish, however, is a bit on the bland side. There's not a lot of flavor going on with the crunchy coating, and that's a big miss. There's something to be said for a fresh piece of fried fish, but with all the other things on the menu, this isn't going to be a go-to every time.

Look, no one is as surprised to see this as high in the ranking as we are. After all, what could a chain made famous by steamed onion burger bites possibly know about the fried fish sandwich game?

To our surprise, White Castle's stripped-down approach to sliders translates particularly well into seafood form. The tiny pucks of minced Alaskan Pollock in the Fish Slider are crispy and flavorful, without an excessive amount of breading. That's a good thing, on a slider-sized sandwich where the bun itself tends to dominate the flavors of the rest of the sandwich. This was also one of the few fast food fish sandwiches we tasted where the junior-sized slice of American cheese peeking adorably out from the edges of the bun actually seemed to complement the overall sandwich, adding a creamy balance of flavor to the slider. Ask for yours with tartar sauce, since otherwise, the Fish Slider can be a tad on the dry side.

Popeyes continues to change the game with its under-appreciated po' boy lineup, featuring your choice of hand-breaded chicken strips, fish fillets, or battered shrimp, dredged in the chain's signature blend of herbs and spices and crispy-fried to perfection. What sets the fish version of their seafood sandwich apart from competitors, however, is the bread. Instead of opting for another sad, stale, nondescript round bun, Popeyes serves up their fish New Orleans style, on a French-style baguette that perfectly balances a crispy outside with a fluffy, lightly chewy inside.

The fish itself is extra-crispy and pleasantly flaky, if a little over-breaded. A sprinkle of crunchy lettuce and a portion of tartar sauce that seems like something a human being would want, as opposed to a time-traveling mutant cyborg from the future that derives its strength to save all of mankind entirely from tartar sauce, is a welcome departure from the approach of competing chains.