Quick Bite: Saltbox Oyster Roll

Hefty, messy, and one heck of a tasty deal

The oyster roll at Saltbox Seafood Joint is a hefty, sloppy delight
The oyster roll at Saltbox Seafood Joint is a hefty, sloppy delight (Dispatch Staff)

By Dispatch Staff

Don’t call it a poor boy. This ain’t New Orleans. The Triangle has a superlative fried oyster sandwich all its own, and it’s called an oyster roll. It’s the creation of chef/owner Ricky Moore of Saltbox Seafood Joint in Durham, and when it comes to bang for the seafood buck, this sandwich really delivers.

Ricky Moore's Saltbox Seafood Joint in Durham
Ricky Moore's Saltbox Seafood Joint in Durham (Dispatch Staff)

At many of the high-end oyster bars popping up around the Carolinas these days, you might need to take out a second mortgage to eat your fill of oysters. Not at Saltbox. The chalkboard menu offers a slaw-topped oyster roll for $13, which might seem a touch pricey for a sandwich . . . until you flip of open the white cardboard box and realize it’s one heck of a deal.

It’s not technically an open-faced sandwich, but you can’t see the toasted bun at first under the mound of fried oysters and herb-laced slaw that tops it. We counted a full two dozen (two dozen!) of the golden brown beauties, and that was after we had scarfed down a few stragglers that had escaped from the bun.

You lift the soft, buttery roll from the box with both hands, fold it together to squeeze in all the oysters, and take a giant bite. The crisp, slightly grainy batter couldn’t be any better, and the oysters are superbly tender without even a touch of rubberiness.

Lining up for oyster rolls and uncommonly good North Carolina fish at Saltbox Seafood Joint in Durham
Lining up for oyster rolls and uncommonly good North Carolina fish at Saltbox Seafood Joint in Durham (Dispatch Staff)

Even the condiments are worth noting. Small cups of Moore’s house-made cocktail and tartar sauces come alongside, and they’re miles superior to that thick, gloppy tartar sauce that comes from restaurant supply jugs. Moore’s tartar is thin and fragrant with shallots and herbs, and it gets a zip of subtle heat from Texas Pete. The deep red cocktail sauce is equally fragrant and has a touch of sweetness, too.

Both are splendid dunks for those stray oysters that tumble from the sandwich—and there will be plenty of those. What a way to load up a bun!

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Dispatch Staff

The hardworking team behind the Southeastern Dispatch