Here is a thing that surprises people who move here: walk into a Buffalo restaurant on a random Friday in August and there will be a fish fry on the menu. Not as a special. As a fixture. Somebody at the next table will be eating one.
In most of the country, fish fry is a Lent thing. Six weeks in late winter, church basements and fire halls, then it disappears until next year. In Western New York it is a permanent institution with a weekly appointment.
The actual reason
Before the reforms of the 1960s, the Catholic obligation to abstain from meat applied to every Friday of the year, not just the Fridays of Lent. That was the rule for a very long time, and Buffalo was — and largely still is — a heavily Catholic city, built by waves of German, Polish, Irish, and Italian immigration.
Add a location on the Great Lakes with reliable access to fresh fish, and a tavern culture that was happy to feed people on Friday nights, and you get a habit. When the year-round obligation was relaxed, the theology changed and the habit did not. Two generations later nobody is checking whether you are observant. It is just what Friday tastes like.
The rule went away in the 1960s. Buffalo kept the Friday.
What makes it a Buffalo fish fry
There is a recognizable local standard, and it is fairly strict:
- Haddock, almost always. Not cod, not pollock, not "white fish." Haddock is flakier and slightly sweeter, and it holds up to a heavy batter.
- Beer batter, thick and craggy, fried dark. A pale fish fry is a failed fish fry.
- A portion that overhangs the plate. This is not a garnish-forward cuisine. If the fish fits neatly on the plate, somebody has made a mistake.
- Potato salad or macaroni salad on the side, and people have firm opinions. Coleslaw is standard. Fries are standard. Rye bread shows up more often than you would think.
- Lemon and tartar sauce. Malt vinegar if the kitchen is paying attention.
Broiled is an accepted variant and no one will judge you for ordering it, though everyone will know. Some places will do it Cajun-style or potato-chip crusted, which sounds like heresy and is usually excellent.
The Lent surge is real
From Ash Wednesday to Easter the whole region shifts gears. Church halls that cook once a year fire up, restaurants add capacity, and the local news publishes maps. If you are eating out on a Friday during Lent, especially the first Friday or Good Friday, call ahead. Waits get genuinely long, and kitchens run out of haddock, which sounds like an excuse until you have watched it happen.
If it is your first Buffalo fish fry, order it beer-battered and get the potato salad. You can experiment on the second one, and the natural next stop is a proper Buffalo-style pizza with cupped pepperoni. And if you are eating late, know that most kitchens here close well before the bar does — worth reading up on what is actually open late in this city before you plan a 10:30 dinner.
Friday at The Steer
We run ours PBR-battered, with the broiled and Cajun options for people who want them, and we do it every Friday rather than seasonally, because that is the deal. It sits on the full menu next to the steaks, not on a separate seasonal card.
Two related things worth knowing. First, the fish fry is the second pillar of the local food canon; the first is beef on weck, which is the sandwich you genuinely cannot get anywhere else, and ours is on the menu every night the kitchen runs. Second, if you are cooking for someone who does not eat fish, our vegan menu is not a token gesture, which matters more on a Friday than you might expect; the full plant-based list is on our vegan dining page.
The Steer has been doing Fridays on Main Street for a long time. Come early or come hungry.