Why Rhode Island Calamari Beats Every Other Version (Yes, I Said What I Said)

Let’s get something out of the way: if your idea of calamari is a sad pile of fried rings with a ramekin of marinara, I’m not mad at you… but I am going to gently take your hand and lead you to the light.

Rhode Island calamari is a whole different species of appetizer energy. It’s glossy. It’s buttery. It’s peppery. It shows up at the table basically yelling, “Eat me right now,” because it’s at its best for approximately seven minutes (which, honestly, is relatable).

And here’s the fun fact that makes Rhode Island extra Rhode Island: in 2014, the state officially declared fried calamari with peppers and garlic butter their state appetizer. A state appetizer! I don’t even have a state level designation for my personality, and Rhode Island’s out here making calamari official. Iconic.

The 3 Things That Make It “Rhode Island” Calamari (And Not Just… Calamari)

If you order calamari and it arrives with marinara and zero attitude, that’s not Rhode Island style. The real deal has three non-negotiables. Miss one, and you’re eating a different appetizer entirely.

1) Two peppers or it doesn’t count

You want hot cherry peppers and banana peppers (or pepperoncini) in the same situation.

• Cherry peppers = heat + vinegar-y bite (the fun chaos friend)
• Banana peppers = milder tang + a little sweetness (the stabilizing friend who drives you home)

One pepper alone is fine, but it’s like listening to a duet where only one person showed up. Rhode Island calamari needs both voices.

2) The butter garlic finish (aka the glow up)

This isn’t a “dip it in sauce” moment. The calamari gets tossed in butter + garlic + a splash of pepper brine while it’s still screaming hot, so the coating turns slightly tacky and glossy and totally unfair to other appetizers.

3) A light coating, not a winter coat

Rhode Island style is typically flour dredged (sometimes with a little cornmeal), not buried under thick beer batter. You want crisp edges and tender squid—not a fried dough situation with a squid cameo.

How Rhode Island Got So Bossy About Calamari

Part of this is geography: Rhode Island sits right on an Atlantic squid migration route, and there’s a long Italian American food culture in places like Providence (Federal Hill knows what it’s doing). Then in the 1970s, when other fisheries tightened up, squid got promoted as an abundant option with some notable nutrition details like cholesterol and sodium in squid.

Rhode Island was already frying it up well, so of course it turned into a “thing.” And then, because Rhode Island has the confidence of a small state with big opinions, they made it official in 2014. Honestly? Respect.

Okay Fine, Let’s Make Rhode Island Calamari at Home

Deep frying at home has a reputation for being chaotic, but you don’t need a fancy fryer. You just need a heavy pot, a thermometer, and the willingness to pay attention for a few minutes. (No doom scrolling between batches. The oil can sense your disrespect.)

What to buy (quick + no nonsense)

Fresh squid should look glossy and clean and smell like the ocean. If it smells like ammonia, put it down and back away slowly.

Frozen squid is totally fine. Thaw it overnight in the fridge and pat it really dry. Water and hot oil together are not the kind of relationship we’re nurturing today.

What you need (the greatest hits)

• 1 lb cleaned squid (rings + tentacles)
• Buttermilk (enough to cover)
• Flour (optional: swap in a little cornmeal for extra crunch)
• Baking powder (small amount = lighter, crispier coating)
• Salt + pepper (and whatever else you love—garlic powder, paprika, etc.)
• Oil for frying (vegetable/canola/peanut—something with a higher smoke point)
• Butter + a splash of olive oil
• Garlic (3-4 cloves, or measure with your heart)
• Sliced cherry peppers + sliced banana peppers/pepperoncini
• A splash of pepper brine (do not skip—this is the secret handshake)
• Lemon wedges + parsley if you’re feeling like a person who finishes things

Equipment you’ll thank yourself for: a heavy pot/Dutch oven, a clip on thermometer, a wire rack (for crispiness), and a spider/slotted spoon.

The Method (a.k.a. How Not to End Up With Chewy Squid)

Calamari is dramatically easy to mess up, because it has two modes: perfectly tender and rubbery hair tie. The difference is mostly time.

Step 1: Buttermilk soak (20 minutes—set a timer)

Soak the cleaned squid in buttermilk for 20 minutes. Not two hours. Not “I forgot and went to Target.” Twenty minutes. This helps tenderize and helps the coating stick.

Step 2: Dredge + rest (yes, rest)

Mix flour with a little baking powder, salt, pepper, and any extra seasonings you want. Drain the squid (don’t rinse), dredge it, then shake off the excess like you mean it.

Now the part people skip: lay it on a wire rack for about 10 minutes. This little rest helps the coating cling instead of sliding off in sad patches.

Step 3: Fry hot and fast

Heat your oil to 375°F. Use a thermometer. Guessing is how calamari becomes a cautionary tale.

• Don’t fry under 350°F (hello, greasy coating)
• Small batches only (single layer-ish)
• Fry for 3 minutes. Set a timer. Be a clock watching monster.

When it’s golden, pull it, and salt immediately. Let the oil come back up to temp between batches—this is the difference between “restaurant crisp” and “why is this wet?”

The Best Part: Butter + Garlic + Peppers

While you’re frying (or right after, if multitasking makes you anxious), melt butter with a splash of olive oil over medium heat. Add garlic and cook just until fragrant—if it browns, it gets bitter and starts acting like it pays rent.

Stir in your cherry peppers, banana peppers, and a splash of that pepper brine. Keep it warm on low.

Then: the moment your last batch of calamari comes out, toss it all into the pan and gently mix for 15-20 seconds. Plate immediately with lemon. Eat immediately. Do not answer emails. Do not “just sit down for a second.” Rhode Island calamari waits for no one.

If Yours Came Out Weird, Here’s Why (No Judgment, I’ve Been There)

• Chewy: you fried too long. Calamari holds grudges after 3 minutes.
• Pale/greasy: oil temp dropped too low. (Small batches, thermometer.)
• Coating fell off: you skipped the rack rest or didn’t shake off extra flour.
• Soggy final plate: it sat too long or got drowned in too hot butter sauce. Toss quickly, serve immediately.

Truly, one tiny tweak usually fixes everything next time.

Want Someone Else to Fry It? Here’s How to Order Like You Know Things

If you’re in Rhode Island, you’re spoiled. Classic spots people love: Iggy’s (Warwick), Andino’s (Providence), and The Town Dock (Narragansett—also where the “state appetizer” legislation was signed, because of course it was).

And yes, you’ll find versions with twists—some are amazing, some are… creative. If you want the real Rhode Island vibe, ask two questions:

• Do you serve it with cherry peppers AND banana peppers?
• Do you toss it in garlic butter (not just serve sauce on the side)?

If the answer is yes to both, you’re in good hands.

Quick FAQs (Because Someone Always Asks)

Calamari vs. squid—what’s the difference?
Nothing. “Calamari” is the Italian word and also the word restaurants use to make it sound fancy (and I support it) despite the squid or octopus debate.

Do I need a deep fryer?
Nope. A heavy pot + thermometer is the real MVP combo.

What’s the secret to tender calamari?
Hot oil and a short fry. Three minutes. That’s it. Don’t overthink it, just obey the timer.

Go Forth and Make the Shiny Peppery Pile of Joy

If you take nothing else from me, take this: Rhode Island calamari isn’t about marinara. It’s about that buttery garlic gloss, the two pepper punch, and eating it while it’s still crisp and loud.

Make it on a weekend when you can focus for 30 minutes, invite someone over who will hover near the stove with you (my favorite kind of friend), and put the lemons out like you’re running a tiny coastal trattoria. Then eat it immediately—because this appetizer has a short window of perfection, and it intends to be worshipped.