Found something at
http://www.frontdoor.com/city-guide/lou ... louisville:
Written by
Robin Garr for FrontDoor.com | Published: 2/24/2009
Local Life and Lore in LouisvilleLocals love to eat fried whitefish sandwiches, historically cod on rye with tartar sauce. According to some statistics, Louisvillians eat more cod per capita than residents of any other city in the U.S. Theories abound as to why this city 700 miles from any seashore should be so partial to fish. The prevailing story is that Louisville's large Catholic population created a burgeoning fish-supply industry by abstaining from red meat on Fridays during Lent. In the early 20th century, more than one-third of the city's residents were Catholic.
"Louisville's fish and cod consumption is a phenomenon that has puzzled me and others in the fish business for as long as I've been in it," Mark Kotok, of Arctic Fisheries of Buffalo, N.Y., told Louisville Magazine a few years ago. "There are no statistics, but for an inland city -- a city not served by coastal waters -- in my 40 years of experience, I don't know of another geographic area that consumes as much cod."
There are dozens of local fish-sandwich eateries: Moby Dick is the big local chain, with 18 locations in the Metro area, including those in the Butchertown neighborhood (1500 Mellwood Ave.), St. Matthews (4848 Shelbyville Road) and Middletown (12012 Shelbyville Road). Another famous establishment, Mike Linnig's, started in 1925. Its picnic-like grounds draw summer crowds to the Southwest end of the city (9308 Cane Run Road, 502-937-9888), Other favorites include Stan's Fish Sandwich (3723 Lexington Road, 502-896-6600); its near neighbor, The Fishery (3624 Lexington Road, 502-895-1188) and The Fish House (2993 Winter Ave., 502-568-2993).
See also
"A LOUISVILLE Fish STORY", by Ken Snyder, March 2003, Louisville Magazine:
http://web.ebscohost.com/ehost/detail?s ... AN=9473202So why hasn't the fish sandwich been recognized as a Louisville signature meal, like the cheesesteak sandwich is in Philadelphia or the deep-dish pizza is in Chicago? Perhaps it's because the habit, taste and preference for the tons of fish sandwiches we eat is too embedded in our behavior to be noticed. Out-of-towners may associate us with Kentucky Fried Chicken, but they've never followed us on the fish-fry circuit.
But there may be another explanation for how an inland population 10 hours away from the nearest saltwater — and even farther from cold, cod-teeming waters of the North Atlantic — could become a cod-consumption capital: the exploits of a colorful entrepreneur named Leo Weil. This son of a Cincinnati fishmonger came to Louisville in 1922 to open his own fish business, which became the Fulton Fish Market, and was the first distributor of Icelandic cod in the U.S. His popularization of this sandwich-worthy product earned him the nickname “The Godfather” (see sidebar, page 41).
In the early 1920s, Weil was the first supplier of fish to Mike Linnig in Valley Station. Linnig, who had previously sold only apples, cider and ham sandwiches from his roadside stand, was a trustee of St. Paul's Catholic Church on Dixie Highway. Seeing a way of boosting Friday sales, he added fried fish sandwiches to his menu. The rest, as they say, is history. Today Mike Linnig's (9308 Cane Run Road), which butts up against a levee on the Ohio River and features a large outside eating area, is a far cry from a roadside stand, resembling a crowded parish fish fry as much as a retail establishment, especially on Friday evenings.
From this single restaurant that operates only from late January through October, an astonishing 250,000 pounds of fish fillets are sold in an abbreviated nine-month year. According to Bill Linnig, grandson of Mike and one of an entire crew of Linnig children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren still active at the restaurant, this translates into 8,000–10,000 fish sandwiches a week during peak summer months.
While any tour of Louisville fish sandwich eateries may begin with Mike Linnigs, it certainly doesn't end there. From Linnigs to the River Creek Inn on Upper River Road in eastern Jefferson County and all points in between, there are a multitude of establishments, each with its own method or secret for making what it believes to be the best fried fish sandwich.
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Seriously though, I personally would never use them for some things (Fresh Produce for example), but buy commodity items, compostable sugarcane based to-go boxes and a fair number of higher end imports from them if the price is right.
