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Trevor Felch
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The Fried Chicken Sandwich at Johnston's Salt Box in San Carlos
Talk about being much more than just a fried chicken sandwich and a BLT. Sure, those tried and true classics can be wonderful in their normal form. But it’s amazing how just a few tweaks can invigorate them into something entirely new and unique. With some bold imagination on display at
Johnston’s Salt Box, the two sandwiches have become creative dishes worthy of destination status to quiet San Carlos and this five month old restaurant.
The BLT really is called the BLTA ($14). And that’s not even correct. It’s a BLTTAGG because chef Adam Thompson adds a doubleheader of tomato, avocado cream, and green goddess aioli to the equation. Little gems serve as the lettuce. The sandwich receives both sliced heirloom tomatoes and a smoked tomato coulis with the latter’s tomatoes coming from the restaurant’s rooftop garden, then smoked and simmered with basil, onions, and garlic (the small garden can only supply some of the tomatoes and produce for the kitchen).
Fully aware that everything seems to be improved with avocado, Thompson adds the “A” to the equation with avocado lightly smashed with some lemon juice into something much more like a chunky guacamole than the “avocado cream” described on the menu. The green goddess aioli’s strong basil notes make a definitive case for why a normal BLT should not settle for regular mayonnaise. Adding the green goddess and avocado is a wonderful geographic stroke, making this a sandwich that speaks of the Bay Area.
With all the other wonderful accompaniments, the sandwich headliner without a doubt is the bacon. The past decade stoner food movement hasn’t discovered much to be positive about (aren’t our arteries done with pastrami poutine yet?) but has opened our eyes to the important relationship between sweet and smoky, otherwise known as that exquisite accidental combination of bacon falling into the pool of maple syrup on your breakfast plate. Here applewood smoked bacon gets a glaze of miso and maple syrup for the best of all worlds: sweet, fatty, smoke, and umami. All placed between ciabatta slices, this is no ordinary BLT. And you'll devour everyone of the housemade Kennebec potato chips on the side.
Not to be outdone is the equally impressive fried chicken sandwich ($12). The sandwich’s previous incarnation followed the Bakesale Betty school with pickled zucchini, jalapenos, and coleslaw. This Korean-style version could lead to lengthy lines like that Oakland café sees every lunchtime.
A massive chicken breast is coated in buttermilk, lightly fried, and kept perfectly moist, such a challenge for chicken breasts. Then Korean chili sauce gets slathered over the breast, then topped with cucumbers and kimchi fermented in-house overnight with ginger for a slightly spicy eye-opener of a sandwich on a potato and black pepper bun.
Both sandwiches’ fillings are far too cumbersome for their bread to handle. Beware, they are messy affairs, so prepare with plenty of napkins and ready to lick fingers clean.
You better hurry to Johnston’s Salt Box to try these because the compact menu changes often. Thompston came to the restaurant by way of San Francisco’s Pesce, whose Venetian-inspired menu rarely changes. The chef pledges for it to be the opposite case at the Saltbox. With just around ten selections on the menu per service, only the ribeye burger is served day and night. Dinner brings more ambitious versions of comfort food like a salmon panzanella and steak au poivre with Sherry brown butter sauce.
Johnston’s Saltbox exemplifies the surging trend on the Peninsula of restaurants meant for all occasions and diners. It aims and succeeds at being family-friendly casual, business meal mature, energetic for date nights at the bar, and sophisticated for adventurous eaters. You get the picture: residential Peninsula meets the new economy with seasonal-driven cooking at the core. It’s a great idea and a very pleasant place to be. The back patio in particular might be the most sought after brunch real estate now on the Peninsula.
In a way, this is what the new American diner looks like. I’m all for that when diner classics become so much more with miso and maple glazed bacon and ginger kimchi.
1696 Laurel, San Carlos; (650) 592-7258.