Main courses also could use some Emeril-style "let's kick it up a notch" sensibility. Only the honey mustard-glazed salmon was as flavorful as its menu description, and its couscous and vegetable garnishes were dull. The whole fried snapper had a nice crisp skin, though not the weightless coating one typically finds on whole fish in Asian restaurants. But the promised lemon-ginger sauce wasn't even vaguely discernable, and accompanying steamed vegetables were listless. The mixed fish grill, while formidable in size (a half lobster, calamari, shrimp, tuna, and swordfish), managed to arrive uniformly overcooked yet still, except for the smoky-edged squid rings, tasting not even faintly of the fire.
Fortunately everything lacking zest could easily be improved with a spoonful of the complimentary bread-dipping oil that arrives at the meal's start: spicy, sufficiently (but not overly) salty, and fantastic. This savory freebie made one wonder, regretfully, why nearly every other item served was so sadly underseasoned.
Desserts are limited to old standards: apple tart, creme brûlée, tiramisu, cheesecake, and key lime pie. But all except cheesecake are homemade, and while the pie was not the equal of the late, lamented secret-recipe Catalan key lime pie of third-generation female chef Montse Guillen (two chefs back at Big Fish), it was almost as smoothly tart as the legendary one at Joe's Stone Crab.
And, yes, there also is a fish sandwich. It's a lunch item. It's grilled mahi-mahi. And it's fine. But it's not as fresh-tasting or generally tasty as the fish sandwich (grilled, blackened, or fried, with many choices of fish and salsas) just upriver at Garcia's. And at $8.50, despite the fact that this Big Fish sandwich is hefty enough to feed a minimultitude, it's no miracle.