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Everything is served in paper baskets. From the grilled fish specials to the sandwiches, Slapfish dispenses with china and proper silverware because, if you didn’t already know, Gruel and Naude used to operate out of a food truck. Their old luxe lonchera habits die hard. They still make their chowder fries like they did on the road, in which they take perfectly good fries and perfectly good chowder and drop them into the same cup. It’s a favorite of the food-truck faithful who used to have to eat standing on their feet. There are fries aplenty in the fish and chips. Every crispy potato spear was better applied here to answer the giant beer-battered thing that’s laid on top of it. We’re not exaggerating when we say the two hake fillets they serve constitutes about pound—each enormous flaky, moist slab covered in a batter exhibiting the porousness of coral and a brittle crunch unmatched by anything terrestrial.