Two Brothers Fish Restaurant, Regent's Park Road, Finchley Central, London N3
'Oh, help us out lads, an English comedian... what's his name... very funny.... sweats a lot...' said the elderly gentleman.
'Oh, help us out lads, an English comedian... what's his name... very funny.... sweats a lot...' said the elderly gentleman.
'He needs it for a story....' said a second man in the queue, turning to us.
'Ohh... not... Lee Evans?' I offered.
'Yes that's his name! Lee Evans! I used to work with his dad on the boats.'
'Oh yeah...'
'Yeah. Sailed all over I did...' And off he went, telling us tales of his adventures on the seven seas working his board on cruiseliners. He'd been everywhere. North America, South America, around the coastline of Africa, Australia, the far East. Working as a porter, catering for the cruising classes (the retired and loaded). It sounded like high jinx on the high seas.
'Cod & chips!' called out the cook from behind the shiny metalic fryers. The old man sprinkled on his salt & vinegar.
'See you later boys, enjoy yourselves!' and he bopped out into the misty Saturday night.
If it's good enough for him, I thought, it'll do for me. My fishcake and chips came next.
I would hazard it's the best chip shop in London. The stock comes in direct from the sea via Bilingsgate each day, and your dinner is always cooked to order. Fresh, and highly rated by north London folk. It's by no means the cheapest, but it'll guarantee you'll never pick up something that's been sweating all day under the spotlight counter. None of that slimey yellow batter, no oven chips (!), and not a soggy spring roll in sight.
'Ohh... not... Lee Evans?' I offered.
'Yes that's his name! Lee Evans! I used to work with his dad on the boats.'
'Oh yeah...'
'Yeah. Sailed all over I did...' And off he went, telling us tales of his adventures on the seven seas working his board on cruiseliners. He'd been everywhere. North America, South America, around the coastline of Africa, Australia, the far East. Working as a porter, catering for the cruising classes (the retired and loaded). It sounded like high jinx on the high seas.
'Cod & chips!' called out the cook from behind the shiny metalic fryers. The old man sprinkled on his salt & vinegar.
'See you later boys, enjoy yourselves!' and he bopped out into the misty Saturday night.
If it's good enough for him, I thought, it'll do for me. My fishcake and chips came next.
I would hazard it's the best chip shop in London. The stock comes in direct from the sea via Bilingsgate each day, and your dinner is always cooked to order. Fresh, and highly rated by north London folk. It's by no means the cheapest, but it'll guarantee you'll never pick up something that's been sweating all day under the spotlight counter. None of that slimey yellow batter, no oven chips (!), and not a soggy spring roll in sight.
