The Local Chippy

Having driven by it a few times, I've regularly told myself I must stop in.

Driving back from work today I pulled my Honda Fit in to the Fishery parking lot, shared with a Dominoes, Z's tanning salon and a Planned Parenthood centre.

After perusing the mouthwatering wall menu, I ordered a basic basket of fish and chips and was extremely pleased with the outcome. Granted, it was very different than the fish and chips sister menu item in England, but I wasn't expecting a carbon copy and it was delicious. (Though admittedly, I did hold on to a little hope that maybe the owner was a British transplant. He was true blue American, believe me.)

There were seats for those awaiting their order (mine took three minutes) and only a booth and a half for those who choose to eat in. I did.

I love fancy wine and dine restaurants which give me an excuse to don the little black number and glittery jewelery, and spend half a month's salary (or someone else's) for a unique delicacy. I have the same adoration for the down home, local, ripped jeans and baseball cap diners. The Fishery fits exactly into this category and currently my budgetary limitations.

They don't have a website or a wine list. They haven't got pâté or paper napkins (actually only a roll of paper towel on the counter). But the fish was fresh, the chips were hot and the smiles were genuine.

This place has become my traditional 'friday-fish-fix' stop. If one day can already count as 'tradition'?