This place is a hidden gem tucked behind the market chaos. The moment you walk in, you smell old wood and frying oil—like a hug from a salty grandparent. Their cod is always melt-in-your-mouth, and the chips are served in a little metal basket that gets your fingers greasy.
They also do a peas mashup—mushy peas that are slightly minty. I drizzle them over the chips and call it “my own weird London tapas.” Just don’t ask for ketchup. They’ll laugh at you. Seriously—they laughed at me. I deserved it.
Pub #2: The Frying Scotsman (Spitalfields)
Don’t let the name fool you; this pub is brazenly London. The vibe is all exposed brick and hipster beards, but the fish is traditional as heck. Their batter is shockingly light—like a tempura, but with attitude. I swear they fry the fish in unicorn air.
They pair it with a sides of curry sauce that’s more aromatic than spicy. It’s a divisive move, but I’m team “dip everything in curry sauce.” Just be prepared for the £16 price tag—that’s London for you, where even a humble chip costs a small ransom.
