In Cincinnati we have a knack for naming things something that they’re actually not. We call battered pan fried cubes of pork “City Chicken.” We call pork shoulder a Cottage “Ham.” And some would say that its incorrect for us to call a Greek meat sauce, ‘chili.” But that’s a raging debate. And, older Cincinnata-ans (see what I did there) call a green pepper a mango.
Well there’s another legacy dish served that follows this name-it-something-it’s-not process. It’s what’s been called Jack Salmon for over a century in Cincinnati and Northern Kentucky restaurants. Technically, a “jack” is a male salmon that returns to spawn one year sooner than other adult salmon and therefore is smaller in size. Realistically, jack salmon aren’t salmon at all, but most often refer to the Midwestern name given to the Pacific whiting, a saltwater fish also known as hake. Whiting is a mild whitefish that’s similar to cod in taste, but with a smaller flake.
Jack Salmon also used to refer to walleye. A 1982 Cincinnati Magazine article about Captain Al’s Trolley Tavern on River Road near Addyston, which served ‘jack salmon,’ said it could be pike or pickerel too. But Captain Al’s ‘jack salmon’ was actually a Great Lakes sauger – actually a real young salmon, or so they claimed.
Jack Salmon was served all around Cincinnati 50 years ago – places like Lake Nina, the Greyhound Tavern, The Century Inn, and Meiner’s Café in St. Bernard. You know, we are a Catholic town, so pre-Vatican II in 1962, every Friday in Cincinnati was Fish Friday.
In 1996, the historic Crow’s Nest in West Price Hill was awarded the Best Fish Sandwich in Cincinnati – an admirable win, considering it was up against the Frisch’s and McDonald’s sandwiches, along with a host of local church fish frys. They were getting the fish for their sandwich from a supplier from Norway, but it wasn’t specified what fish it was. The supplier flew into Cincinnati to see what was up, when their sales went from 200 to 1400 sandwiches during Lent. But the Crow’s Nest in the early 1960s when it was owned by Maureen Clark Bonfield, also served deep fried, tail-in ‘jack salmon’ too, which along with their turtle soup and Buffalo hot chicken paddles (the flat non-drum part of the wing) were go-to dishes.
I love the Crow’s Nest because it’s been a West Side icon since 1895 when Irish immigrants Mike and Mary Crow opened it. It’s said that they still haunt the third floor. It’s the second oldest continually operating bar to Arnold’s in Downtown and was the last stop on the western bound Cincinnati streetcar. There used to be a sign in the bar that said, “If you think it’s dead in here, look across the street.” Across the street is St. Joseph’s Cemetery. My great grandfather Jacob Schoesser rests within eye shot of the entrance of the Crow. His post-burial lunch was probably held at the Crow, maybe with some fake ‘jack salmon’ on the table.