This Connecticut Shoreline Grill May Have The Crispiest Fried Fish In New England

Low tide rolls in with that unmistakable salt-and-sparkle scent along Main Street, and if you listen closely, you’ll catch the soft hiss of a fryer working its magic.

Skipper’s sits just a short wander from Niantic Bay, the kind of shoreline spot where you order at the counter and immediately feel like you’re in good hands. Plates come out hot enough to fog your glasses, the portions are neat and confident, and yes, the fries really do have their own following.

I showed up hoping for that perfect crackle of fried fish and ended up watching how much care goes into every basket. If you’re on the hunt for a true New England standard, this little coastal grill delivers it beautifully.

Fish And Chips Platter

The patio hums at dinner, a gentle chorus of picnic-table chatter and clinking soda lids. That bustle softens once the tray hits the wood: a neat arrangement of two cod fillets, fries that steam, and lemon quarters that glisten under the bay light. I like that it feels unpretentious yet intentional.

Cod arrives in a thin, blistered jacket that shatters cleanly. The interior is pearly, almost custardy, and never greasy. Tartar is dill-forward, with real pickle crunch, and the fries lean bronzed rather than blond.

I squeeze lemon, taste the batter snap, and realize I’m eating more slowly than usual. The crisp holds between bites, which is rarer than people admit. It’s precise fry work.

CT-Style Lobster Roll

A small line forms at the counter around noon, and it moves briskly; staff call names like friends, then point you toward water-view seating. There’s a comfort in that rhythm, especially when the gulls drift by as if they’re regulars, too.

The warm lobster is glossed with butter and perched in a toasted split-top bun, lightly salted, not drowned. Sweet claw and knuckle dominate, no filler. Fries ride shotgun, crisp and lightly seasoned, which makes alternating bites a low-key delight.

Prices can surprise, but the portion and freshness balance the splurge. I pause between bites because the bun stays toasty and the meat stays plush. It’s a shoreline treat that earns quiet nods.

Fried Shrimp Platter

The first surprise is the size; each shrimp is hefty, curling like a pink comma under a peppery crust. There’s a small pile of slaw and a cup of cocktail sauce, tomato-bright and horseradish awake.

Skipper’s has been a Main Street fixture for years, recognizable by its blue-trim facade and easy walk from the Niantic boardwalk. Counter service keeps things quick and orderly, especially on sunny weekends when tables turn steadily.

Order a lemon wedge extra and share fries if you’re budget-watching. Five shrimp feels modest, but each bites like two. I find myself chasing corners of crisp with the last of the sauce, which is a reliable happiness.

Lobster Bisque

A faint sweetness in the air hints at butter and shell, the kind of scent that makes you slow your step. Indoors, the counter’s chalkboard lists soups; I appreciate the straight talk: bisque, hot and ready.

This bowl leans velvety rather than thick, with a gentle sherry note and real lobster pieces you can actually find. The color is sunset-coral, and the warmth lingers. A saltine or two is all it needs.

I sip, watch boats edge across the bay, and let the quiet do its work. It’s not flashy; it’s balanced and soothing, and it stands up to the breeze.

Fish Tacos

Here’s a quirky detail: the tortillas arrive warm enough to fog the lid, and the cabbage stays impossibly crisp. That contrast sets the tone before the first bite.

Skipper’s uses their fried fish in modest strips, letting the batter give texture without overwhelming the lime crema. There’s a sprinkle of tomato and a snap of slaw, so each bite swings from citrus to crunch to soft corn.

Grab a patio spot if the wind cooperates; tacos appreciate fresh air. I chase a runaway shred of slaw with my fork and laugh at myself, then keep going. These disappear quickly, and I don’t mind.

Onion Rings And Fries Duo

There’s a low, cheerful clatter from the fryer station, the sound of baskets lifted at just the right second. That timing shows on the sides tray: rings stacked like bracelets, fries evenly bronzed.

Onion rings wear a light, sandy crunch that breaks without pulling the onion free. Fries are skin-on in places and salted with restraint. Both stay crisp longer than they should, which suggests careful oil management.

Share this with the table to calibrate appetites. I usually rotate between ketchup and nothing, because the fry speaks for itself. When a side becomes the conversation, you know the kitchen is paying attention.

Santorini Salad With Seafood Add-On

Season sometimes nudges me toward something green, and this salad obliges with color: tomatoes, cukes, olives, feta, and a lemony vinaigrette that doesn’t bully. The name nods to the seaside, which fits the view outside.

Order grilled salmon or shrimp on top; both arrive hot and well-seasoned, the fish flaky and the shrimp plump. It’s a thoughtful counterpoint to the fryer, proof that the kitchen handles more than batter.

If you like balance on a tray, pair with a cup of chowder or bisque. I leave a few croutons behind just to save room for fries. Priorities can coexist.

Shrimp Tacos And A Shake

Owner-operator energy shows in quick greetings and trays that land hot; the team moves like they’ve been doing this a while. Orders are called clearly, and refills happen with a small nod and a smile.

Shrimp tacos skew generous, seasoned well, and kept lively with slaw and lime. A thick shake on the side shouldn’t work with seafood, but it does, cooling the palate and turning lunch into a small celebration.

Lines grow around peak beach hours, so arrive just before noon or after six. I like the dusk light on the patio when the bay quiets. Dinner tastes better when the sky does its part.

Buttermilk-Brined Atlantic Haddock Sandwich

Meet the sandwich that converts skeptics: a towering haddock fillet, buttermilk-brined for tenderness, then double-dredged and fried to glassy crispness.

The crust crackles audibly, giving way to flaky, ocean-sweet flesh. It’s tucked into a toasted potato roll with lemony slaw, dill pickles, and a swipe of caper-garlic remoulade. Each component balances richness with zip, letting the fish shine.

Pair it with a squeeze of charred lemon and a cold local lager for peak shoreline satisfaction. One bite, and you’ll understand the line curling around the block.

Crisp Cod Over Sea-Salt Herbed Chips

This plate stars a broad cod loin, expertly fried until the batter is whisper-thin yet audibly crisp. Beneath it, sea-salt herbed chips, hand-cut potatoes tossed with thyme, parsley, and lemon zest, offer a fragrant crunch.

A bright celery-leaf tartar and malted vinegar reduction keep each bite lively. The fish flakes in pearly petals, proving freshness with every forkful. A scatter of microgreens and shaved fennel adds snap and perfume.

It’s a simple composition, elevated by technique and timing; hot from the fryer, impossibly light, and unapologetically coastal.