Deep-Fried Delirium
Horace & Dickie’s is a tiny carryout that is occasionally touted as one of the last practioners of a homegrown D.C. culinary tradition: the massive fried fish sandwich. This steamy fry shack on a quiet corner of H and 12th streets NE is a one-of-a-kind neighborhood joint; a standing room only storefront that specializes in fried fish and chicken served open-face on a handful of bread and presented in a square of tin foil.
On a gorgeous 60-degree Sunday, we ordered practically everything we thought our stomachs could hold: a four-piece fried fish sandwich (the four-piece is the smallest one), fried dark-meat chicken, collard greens, cole slaw, macaroni and cheese, a piece of sweet potato cake, and an individually wrapped bean custard pie (we’ll explain later).
Without the convenience of tables and chairs or a neighborhood abode, we had to resort to eating in our car. Fortunately, the surrounding scene had no shortage of atmosphere. We were parked behind a maroon Benz sedan that bore a vanity plate reading “No Debt” and was blaring slow jams. This impromptu entertainment was serving a nearby group of employees and a few friends at the Soda-Ice Cream-Funnel Cakes window on H Street.
When we originally placed our order, we noticed to our dismay that the fish and chicken pieces had already been deep fried and were simply idling in a basket awaiting a second stint in the deep fryer once each customer places their order. At first, it sounds like the re-frying process would degrade the quality and taste of the food, but au contraire.
The fish, though not the most flavorful we’ve had, featured a light coating of cornmeal that was supremely crispy. We ordered it with white bread and slathered the fish with homemade tartar sauce (good, but not great) and hot sauce (probably a store-bought brand like Texas Pete’s). Two people, by the way, could easily share one sandwich.
Much to our surprise, the fried chicken turned out to be somewhat more impressive than their celebrated fish sandwich. The dark meat was plenty juicy, extra-crispy, and well spiced. In fact, we think it could be one of the better servings of fried chicken we’ve had in the area, though it did not come close to usurping Southside's Thursday night fried chicken special. Yes, we realize this makes us fried chicken iconoclasts, but so be it.
The sides were definitely not designed for eating in the car. Served in large takeaway containers, they are best for family dining at the table. Still, we thoroughly enjoyed the baked mac 'n' cheese and the well seasoned and finely chopped greens. The slaw, though more vinegary than creamy, could have used a bit more seasoning. We realized too late that it could have served as another condiment for the fish. Next time, perhaps.
Between salty bites of fish and chicken, we gulped grape soda by Rock Creek Sodas, which we found out is a local, time-honored brand of bizarre fruit-flavored sodas such as pineapple and cherry smash. And as a bonus for soda nostalgists, Horace & Dickie's also had more RC Cola stashed away than we've seen in a long time.
The sweet potato cake we ordered was a complete accident. As we were getting ready to pay, we noticed it languishing in an aluminum pan by the cash register. The sweet potato cake was so ultra-buttery that it practically glistened in the sunlight streaming through our windshield. As a result, it was more custardy and smooth than cake-like, and absolutely heavenly. Horace & Dickie's apparently offers homemade cakes every day, so it's well worth trying whatever they happen to be offering.
We also grabbed one of their pre-wrapped bean custard pies, which are made by Bakery Direct, a local bakery that calls itself the "home of the world famous bean custard pie." They take this bean custard thing so seriously that they even sell lemon bean pies and apple bean pies. Though navy beans are the key ingredient in these bean custard pies, it turns out that a bean pie has no bean essence whatsoever. The navy beans are merely employed for their starchy properties to make a custard that, when combined with the bakery's spice mix, is basically a creamier version of pumpkin pie.
Though a recent Washington Post article chronicled some of the changes being wrought in the so-called "Atlas District" by various nightlife and cultural entrepreneurs, this stretch of H Street nevertheless seemed fairly desolate during the daytime. We only hope that Horace & Dickie’s, which has been a neighborhood fixture for around 20 years or so, continues to offer a bit of old-school charm to the new guard.
Horace & Dickie’s
809 12th Street NE
(202) 397-6040