A Fish Finger and Scampi Nik Naks Sandwich cut in half and photographed after one bite, revealing its architectural cross-section of pure culinary chaos. White bread bookends a garish orange filling where processed cheese attempts to contain an escaping avalanche of neon Nik Naks and beige fish fingers. The sandwich sits on a plain white plate atop what appears to be a desk with a gaming keyboard visible in the background - evidence that someone willingly transported this creation to a workplace, likely in violation of several unwritten laws of lunch etiquette and possibly the Geneva Convention.

Published in Recipes

The improbably Fish Finger and Scampi Nik Naks Sandwich theaardvark

14 March 2025

Fish Finger and Scampi Nik Naks Sandwich

After setting up the weblog, I had a flurry of posts to make, some of which had been kicking around my head for a long time, just waiting for an opportunity to be written and published. But then nothing for quite a while, eh?

Well, I have a total doozy of a post to break that duck. This weblog is about to break into the world of food and recipe blogging.

Research tells me that I should show you a picture of the end result somewhere near the start of the post (see above), but that I then have to pad out the post with tons of text about how life has brought me to this moment and to preparing a Fish Finger and Scampi Nik Naks Sandwich before actually giving you the recipe.

I should, I believe, also repeat the title Fish Finger and Scampi Nik Naks Sandwich (that's Fish Finger and Scampi Nik Naks Sandwich) as often as possible for SEO reasons or something.

Pointless made-up personal background

Every culinary journey begins with a single bite. Mine began with a question that has haunted philosophers and late-night snackers alike since the middle of this-afternoon: 'What if we combined the elegant sophistication of fish fingers with the complex bouquet of artificial scampi flavouring?'

My grandmother, who survived the war by making do with whatever ingredients were available (I assume - I never actually talked to either of them about the war years), would be proud of this innovation. Though she never combined processed fish products with overly aromatic corn snacks, her spirit of culinary adventure lives on through me.

Scampi Nik Naks

Despite, or maybe because of, not being overly fond of fishy-tasting food and/or seafood, I'm a huge fan of KP Snacks' Scampi 'n' Lemon Nik Naks. Similarly, I love the Brit-pub favourite Smith's Scampi Fries.

The image shows a close-up of the "SCAMPI 'n' LEMON" text on what appears to be Nik Naks packaging. It features bold white text against a vivid green background with black splatter-style graphics, capturing the loud, artificial aesthetic typical of snack food branding that proudly announces its synthetic flavour with all the subtlety of a foghorn at a library.

Oddly suitable for vegetarians and vegans and hated by the romantic partners of people who eat them, Scampi Nik Naks have been a supermarket favourite since 2008.

I'm only allowed to eat them when MrsVark and I are not going to be spending the evening together.

The Fish Finger and Scampi Fries Sandwich

This recipe is inspired by a Fish Finger and Scampi Fries Sandwich that MrsVark saw on Instagram. I fully intended to recreate that sandwich but when I went to the local corner shop for supplies, they had sold out of Scampi Fries, so Scampi 'n' Lemon Nik Naks it was.

Fish Fingers?

Why am I making a fish finger sandwich if I dislike seafood?

When I was a child, my mum used to make kedgeree quite regularly with smoked kipper. The whole house would stink like a fish market on fire and I hated it. The food itself would be full of fish bones that got stuck in my throat. I quickly learned to hate the food and, in turn, the smell and the taste.

My parents were of the "if you don't eat the food you're given, then you don't eat" school of parenting. The one advantage of the house smelling of smoked kipper was that I knew to quickly head out and spend my pocket money on some chips because I wouldn't be eating at dinner time.

So, I don't like the taste of fish. But many types of fish fingers don't taste too much of fish. The cheap version that are made of recycled cardboard that have been shown a picture of a fish is entirely my bag. They taste of grilled breadcrumbs and filler. I can work with that.

The Fish Finger and Scampi Nik Naks Sandwich Recipe

Here comes the science bit....

Well, I think it's more engineering than science to be fair. There's very little chemistry or physics involved but a fair amount of construction.

Ingredients (makes 1 sandwich):

2 slices white bread, preferably from a loaf that makes no nutritional claims whatsoever. Artisanal sourdough would be insulted by what we're about to do to it.
Spreadable butter, cos who has time or patience to spread real butter on cheap white bread.
1 x pack of Scampi 'n' Lemon Nik Naks, providing that authentic 'may have once been in the same room as a Dover sole' flavour profile.
2 x slices US style processed cheese shite.
4 x fish fingers, cooked to that perfect balance of 'hot enough not to cause food poisoning' but 'cool enough not to burn the roof of your mouth beyond recognition'.

Directions (honestly, if you can't work it out from the list of ingredients, then there's no helping you. but I took photos, so I'm bloody going to use them):

1) Butter the bread.

Two slices of aggressively plain white bread, slathered with butter and arranged on a plate with all the artistic flair of a tax return. A tub of cheap, knock-off 'I Can't Believe It's Not Butter' lurks in the background, presumably embarrassed to be associated with this culinary adventure. A can of Four Loko stands guard nearby, sensibly waiting to numb the taste buds of whoever's about to eat this.

2) Pile the Scampi 'n' Lemon Nik Naks onto the bottom slice of bread. Ensure the Nik Naks are evenly distributed across the bread as failure to do so may result in flavour imbalance, sandwich structural integrity issues, and possibly the complete collapse of your self-respect.

Stage two of our gourmet journey: A slice of white bread with a mountain of unnaturally orange Nik Naks dumped unceremoniously on top. The £1.25 price tag on the Nik Naks packet serves as a bitter reminder that you could have spent that money on literally anything else. The Four Loko, still waiting patiently to make this entire experience tolerable.

3) Cover with the slices of questionable cheese (processed cheese is essential here... don't go thinking about swapping it out for actual British cheddar or similar... the heat from the fish fingers melts the cheese, and that's what holds the Nik Naks in place)

The plot thickens, as does the sandwich, with the addition of processed cheese slices that appear to have been peeled directly from their plastic wrapping approximately 4 seconds ago. The neon orange Nik Naks now entombed beneath cheese that's the exact same shade as a 1970s kitchen appliance.

4) Carefully layer on the cooked and still-warm fish fingers

The pièce de résistance arrives - four beige fish fingers carefully arranged atop the cheese like rectangular soldiers preparing for gastronomic battle. The fish fingers, having never been anywhere near an actual fish, look oddly proud of their promotion from freezer to plate status.

5) Take a swig of whatever Dutch-courage you're accompanying your sandwich with because the next step needs nerves of steel

6) Place the second slice of bread on the top of the sandwich, butter side down.

7) Slice in half to make handling easier during the consumption experience.

The completed masterpiece, sliced in half to reveal its architectural cross-section - a tragic layer cake of white bread, processed cheese, fish fingers and Nik Naks. A knife rests nearby, either for additional sandwich preparation or as a weapon against whoever suggested making this in the first place.

Drinks pairing for Fish Finger and Scampi Nik Naks Sandwiches

The bold flavours of Fish Finger and Scampi Nik Nak Sandwiches demand no-nonsense, down-to-earth beverages to go with them. I recommend a Stella Artois or a Magner Cider. Or, as shown in the serving suggestion photo, a mystery-fruit-flavoured 8.5% Four Loko from the artisan Drink Four Brewing Co distillery.

Nutritional Information

This sandwich contains approximately 3,742 calories, 94g of fat, and enough sodium to make your doctor wince at your next check-up. It provides 0% of your recommended daily intake of anything like actual nutrition but 100% of your daily requirement for alcohol-fuelled, regrettable late-night decisions.

FAQ

Q: Could I use wholemeal bread for a healthier option?

A: I mean, you could, but that would be like wearing a seatbelt while skydiving. The damage is already done..

Q: How long does this sandwich keep?

A: Why? Have you cooked/created it but now that you look at it you suddenly have no appetite? Well, it contains ingredients that would probably survive nuclear winter, so maybe indefinitely. Whether you should eat it after day one is up to you, your digestive system, and the local A&E department.

A Final Moment of Profound Sandwich Contemplation

As I sit here, the lingering aroma of processed fish and artificial "scampi 'n' lemon" clinging to my fingers, I can't help but reflect on the journey this sandwich represents. It is not just a journey of flavours but also a journey into the very soul of British convenience food culture. Some might call it an abomination. I call it Friday night dinner.

If you'd like to read more about my culinary adventures, why not check out my recipe for The Deep Fried, Kebab Pizza, Burger. (I must move this post away from Medium and onto this here blog at some point.)