Let’s talk location, because Runcorn isn’t exactly a tourist hotspot—sorry, Runcorn. It’s a town best known for the Silver Jubilee Bridge and a lot of roundabouts. Yet tucked away in a quiet corner, Catch Twenty Two pulls off something bordering on alchemy: it makes wet, grey Wednesday afternoons feel like a seaside holiday.
The menu is refreshingly no-nonsense. You’ve got your cod, your haddock, your sausages, and a few extras like mushy peas that are properly mushy—not the watery sludge you sometimes get. No pretentious panko crumbs. No drizzles of “tartare foam.” Just fried fish, hot chips, and a pickled egg if you’re feeling wild. (I wasn’t. Baby steps.)
And the portions? Let’s just say I needed a nap afterwards, and I’m not ashamed. You won’t walk out hungry. You might walk out waddling slightly, but it’s a waddle of honour.
The Secret? It’s All in the Batter (and the Attitude)
I managed to corner the owner between rushes—a bloke named Steve who looked like he’d been born holding a fish slice. He told me the batter recipe is “older than my marriage and more reliable,” which is the exact kind of cheeky honesty I respect. They use beer in the batter, of course, but the secret ingredient seems to be patience. They don’t rush the fry.
Catch Fish And Chips Looe at Claude Harrod blog
You can taste that patience. The fish has a clean, sweet flavour that says “I was swimming yesterday, thanks for asking.” The chips have a fluffy interior that’s a direct rebuttal to every sad, microwaveable chip you’ve ever eaten. This is what we mean when we say “comfort food,” isn’t it? It’s a hug in a greasy wrapper.
I’m not usually one to gush over a takeaway, but there’s a moment—right when you stick your fork in a chip and see the steam rise—that you know you’re in good hands. Catch Twenty Two has that moment in spades.
