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National Geographic
13 hours ago
- Entertainment
- National Geographic
Where to eat the best fish and chips in Cornwall
This article was produced by National Geographic Traveller (UK). Come summer, nothing quite hits the spot like a generous serving of fish and chips eaten beside the Cornish coast. Whether wrapped in vinegar-soaked paper — perhaps enjoyed on a harbour wall — or served in a pub garden accompanied by a chilled local cider, this iconic British dish never fails to satisfy. Traditionally made with cod or haddock, deep-fried to a golden crisp and paired with thick-cut chips, tartare sauce and a liberal splash of vinegar, fish and chips is a meal steeped in nostalgia, often evoking childhood memories of summers spent by the coast. Although its exact origins are a source of debate, what seems clear is that the dish first emerged in 19th-century Britain as an affordable, hearty meal for the working classes not only in London's industrial East End but also in Northern English mill towns. Its large helpings and low cost made it a wartime staple, too — one of the few unrationed foods — and over time, it became a cherished Friday-night tradition, rooted in the Catholic culinary custom of meat-free meals on this sacred day. Today, Cornwall's fish and chip scene is more diverse than ever, thanks to greater access to fresh catch and a commitment to quality ingredients not just in beloved local chippies but in a host of restaurants, including Michelin-acclaimed kitchens. Furthermore, innovative chefs such as Benjamin Palmer, at The Sardine Factory in Looe, and Paul Ainsworth at The Mariners, in Rock, are honouring this classic meal while experimenting with creative new twists. To discover the best of Cornwall's fish and chips this summer, here are six must-visit spots. Harbour Lights, Falmouth For award-winning chips and community spirit Family-run and proudly Cornish, Harbour Lights, in Falmouth, isn't just another chippy — it's a local institution. Set above the harbour, this long-standing favourite was a top-10 finalist in the National Fish & Chip Awards 2019 and sources its fish daily from nearby Newlyn. A regular cod costs £17.95, and double-fried chips — made from Cornish potatoes — start at £4.85. Beyond the classics, the team encourages diners to try something new. The menu features Cornish hake and plaice alongside starters such as salt and pepper squid, crispy whitebait and breaded king prawns. Diners who eat in get unlimited chips with their main course. What sets Harbour Lights apart, though, is its strong community presence. The team supports causes such as the Fishermen's Mission through regular donations and hosts the Harbour Lights' Community Hero Awards to recognise civic-minded local residents. They've also taken to the stage with the Cornwall Good Seafood Guide at Falmouth's Oyster Festival and even offer an annual gift card providing 12 fish and chip meals for £170 for their most loyal customers. The Sardine Factory, Looe For Michelin-garlanded dishes At Michelin Bib Gourmand-awarded The Sardine Factory, the fish and chips is prepared with all the precision you'd expect of a fine dining establishment. Housed in a restored 19th-century sardine factory overlooking the harbour, this relaxed, award-winning restaurant is the passion project of local chef Benjamin Palmer, who returned home to celebrate Cornish seafood. Benjamin's take on traditional fish and chips (£20) — served with caramelised lemon and a selection of condiments — shares the menu with dishes such as dry-aged pollock ceviche, smoked haddock scotch egg and Cornish crab mac and cheese. The restaurant has a strong focus on local produce, with most ingredients sourced from the nearby Looe market and the surrounding area. Looe's Sardine Factory serves up not just traditional fish and chips, but also other Cornish-inspired dishes such as smoked haddock scotch egg and crab mac and cheese. Photograph by The Sardine Factory Harbour Chippy, Newquay For a classic menu with a modern twist Just a stone's throw from the fishing boats of Newquay's historic waterfront, Harbour Chippy serves succulent, flaky fish and chips with all the charm you'd expect from one of the best traditional seaside spots. Owned by Rob and Jen Randell, this family-run, takeout-only venue is located on one of the oldest roads in Newquay, offering the expected classics with refreshingly inclusive offerings. Alongside freshly cooked cod and chips (small portions from £6.10), there's a dedicated vegan selection — including battered sausages, pea fritters and nuggets — all fried in vegetable oil by the Chippy's vegan fryer. Plus, to cater to those with gluten sensitivities, a separate fryer is used for wheat-free batters and chips. This year, the couple also introduced a touchscreen ordering system, a nod to their forward-thinking ethos. If you've still got room for something sweet afterwards, pop next door to Newquay Waffle Shop, run by their son Matthew. The Mariners, Rock For an elevated, gastropub experience Michelin-recognised The Mariners serves a refined twist on pub classics, including traditional fish and chips. Relaunched in 2019 by Paul Ainsworth — one of Britain's top chefs and a leading name in Cornwall's food scene — alongside his wife Emma, this well-established spot has a terrace overlooking the beautiful Camel Estuary and puts a spotlight on Cornwall's finest produce. Under the direction of head chef Joe Rozier, who previously worked at Ainsworth's Michelin-starred No.6 in Padstow, the menu embraces bold, creative twists — from 'The Dog's Pollock', a pollock hot dog with pickled cucumber and parmesan, to Cornish monkfish served with cockle and clam butter. His elevated take on classic fish and chips (£25) includes line-caught cod, triple-cooked Yukon Gold chips, seaweed tartare, madras sauce and parsley peas. The Mariners is the vision of Paul Ainsworth, one of Britain's most celebrated chefs. Photograph by Chris Fynes (Top) (Left) and Photograph by @ (Bottom) (Right) Rick Stein's Fish & Chips, Padstow For old-time favourites with a premium edge It's hard to visit Cornwall these days without hearing Rick Stein's name — especially in Padstow, where his presence is particularly prominent. For a scenic day out, hire a bike in Wadebridge and follow the Camel Trail along the estuary into town, stopping for lunch at his popular fish and chip shop. Prices lean towards the higher end — with a standard cod costing £19 — but the quality and Stein's enduring reputation keep the crowds coming, so be prepared to queue. Fish such as haddock, hake, lemon sole and cod are fried in beef dripping for a golden, crunchy finish. Unlimited chips are available for an extra £3.95 when dining in, while a standard takeaway portion costs £3.50 and can be enjoyed by Padstow's picturesque harbourfront, just steps away. The menu also features small plates, including honey-drizzled halloumi saganaki, salt-and-pepper prawns and fish tacos. Argoe, Newlyn For a contemporary take that honours local roots Argoe offers a refined take on a fish supper — although not in the traditional sense. Frito misto with aioli is the closest thing this Cornish seafood spot gets to conventional fish and chips. Overlooking the town's busy working harbour, this intimate, wood-clad restaurant features contemporary interiors and a relaxed outdoor terrace. Owned by Richard Adams, a local, the restaurant honours Newlyn's rich fishing heritage with a daily-changing menu that's shaped by chef Angus Powell around the morning's catch. Sharing plates, including grilled piri piri monkfish, hand-dived scallops and smoked whiting roe flatbread, are served with chips or salad and a range of natural wines. Adding to the experience for diners, Angus can often be spotted heading down to the quay to collect fish straight off the boat — a fantastic way to see just how fresh the ingredients are. To accompany your meal, organic wines are poured from taps behind the bar. Since opening in 2021, Argoe has earned a Michelin Guide mention — a status reflected in the premium pricing, with grilled fish typically costing around £43 and chips available as a £6 side. To subscribe to National Geographic Traveller (UK) magazine click here. (Available in select countries only).
The Guardian
23-03-2025
- General
- The Guardian
The Crown, Arford: ‘Everything one might want'
The Crown, Arford Road, Headley, Bordon GU35 8BT (01428 288090; Small plates from £4.50; large plates £18-£29; desserts £9; and wines from £36 I feel I shouldn't be writing at all because I am so full and so happy. I have just had the meal of meals – a Sunday lunch of such perfection that really my next move should have been to lie down. I live in an ancient part of Britain, where once upon a time if you wanted to pick sides, it was between Wessex and Mercia. Of course, in the ninth century the pesky Vikings turned up and imposed Danelaw. Being Danish myself I now realise that the locals missed a trick in defending themselves. Instead of battling or giving in they should simply have served the naughty Norsemen a perfect plate of roast beef, Yorkshire pudding, roast potatoes, carrots, parsnips, buttered greens and gravy and the invading hordes would have been putty in their hands. Sunday lunch is such a British institution it's hard to know when it started. Possibly in medieval times, but that's between the 5th and the 15th century, which doesn't really narrow things down. The theory is that back in the day, village serfs (the poor) worked for the squire (the rich) six days a week. Sunday morning was for church after which the serfs would get together to practise, I don't know, anti-Viking bow-and-arrow techniques, and their boss would reward them with a feast of oxen roasted on a spit. What I take from all this is that ideally you should work hard for your lunch. My wife, Debbie, and I are in the process of restoring 40 acres of ancient woodland. We do this on a Sunday morning with a glorious assortment of volunteers. Together we clear the land around gnarled, coppiced beech trees and venerable oaks, bringing sunshine back down on to the forest floor. It is our church, after which we all are ravenous. As we have no squire to conjure a feast and there is no immediate threat of invasion, this week we determined to finish the day at a pub a few miles down the road. With sawdust in every crevice, 10 of us went off to the Crown in the small Hampshire village of Arford. I tell you the name of the village because the pub name doesn't really help by itself. There are more than 1,000 inns and public houses in the UK called the Crown because they were once located on Crown lands and the British are nothing if not clear-minded about such things. (I mean, not always. I used to drink in an inner-city pub in London called Harbour Lights whose naming no one ever understood.) Since somewhere deep in the late-17th century there has been a beer house and inn standing in the centre of Arford and you can still step in straight off the village lane into the oldest part of the building. A wide, black-beamed fireplace hosts a roaring log burner and we were all childishly pleased to see stacked logs that had come courtesy of our own woodland work. Our coppicing gang entirely filled the seats at a table beneath 200-year-old wooden beams, while down in the bar extension the place was full. We bumped into a friend just finishing her meal. She teaches cooking at the Gordon Ramsay school and waxed lyrical about the lunch ahead. When it comes to Sunday lunch, I feel there is a certain sacredness about it which no one should really mess with. You want a big plate of juicy meat, properly cooked potatoes with no stinting on the gravy, a Yorkshire pudding that has never touched a freezer and the odd veg to feel as though you are doing yourself a bit of good. The menu boded well: no one trying to sell us a 'foam' or a 'jus' of anything. The mains were listed sensibly: beef, chicken, pork, nut roast. Everything one might want. We all know each other well now and the chatter was lively with much laughter, but as the food was served a hush fell over the table. On the whole, Debbie and I dislike the modern penchant for endlessly photographing one's dinner, but I saw her whip out her phone and take a shot. This was Sunday lunch perfection. The juiciest of beef. Large slices. Rare in the middle. A small pillow of Yorkshire pudding. Roast potatoes as they should be, crisp on the outside, soft on the inside. A whole carrot, a whole parsnip, extra bowls of creamy cauliflower cheese and deep red cabbage. Buttered greens and extra jugs of gravy. A whole half of a succulent chicken lay on Deb's plate while in the corner where our Swedish woodcutter sat, all I could hear was the happy snap of pork crackling in his mouth. The servings were vast. Surely none of us would ever eat again? But then there was pudding – sticky toffee, chocolate brownie, pecan pie and ice-cream, tiramisu, apple and sultana crumble with custard. Somehow we soldiered on. We nattered away, men and women from many walks of life united in giving nature a hand. I realised we have been together as a team for quite some time. We spoke of individual trees as if they are our friends and I wondered if the medieval lunch mob might have had much the same conversation. All morning and all through lunch not one of us looked at our phone. We were filthy, but we were free. The Crown is not a large place. It has a small kitchen run single-handedly by a remarkable woman called Stella Malone. We asked if she would come and take our thanks. She did, but shyly, then escaped away. There is great skill in producing this most traditional of meals to such a standard. I expect Michelin or whoever rates these things would never even glance this way, but she is an artist. We need to support these small country inns and local watering holes. The number of pubs in England and Wales is at a record low. Last year more than 400 closed and there had been some danger of Arford's own public house closing after two centuries of service. It would have been terrible. It is a beating heart for the locals but, rather like our woodland, the village was galvanised into action. Since July 2024, the Crown has been taken over by a few locals who set up a limited company to manage the place which is now enthusiastically supported by the whole community. Lively, local and lovely. I need to lie down to make room for the next time.
