I stopped in the Five Star Fish Bar in Walsall having overshot my turn to the Pretty Bricks pub. For £3 I received both fish and chips for the same price as half this size order of chips, alone, at most other places. There are two probable explanations for this:
1: The fish is going to be dreadful.
2: The place is laundering money.
These are not mutually exclusive possibilities. I can confirm that #1 is true.
The chips are very good, though.
A couple of years ago, the chinese takeaway in the student centre was converted to a chippy. This year it became a japanese place. I welcome the sushi availability ten steps from work and wonder what it will become in two years.
One couple was hiking uphill past the bench on which I dined and the lady-one said, “oooo, that looks delicious.” My mouth was full but I managed a muffled, “mm-hmm!” before their next step touched the pavement and pointed up and to the right incomprehensibly adding, “Muvvahrubbads,” then pointing to the name on the chip box.
An old, local woman who could well have been a witch stopped and asked if I was sharing and I turned the fork toward her. She laughed and declined but we wound up speaking between mouthfuls for the next five minutes as I stuffed my face.
As many times as I’ve been on the Aston University campus these past few years it seems surprising that I’ve never sipped a beverage at the Sacks of Potatoes. There was some time for lunch cut into my journey back to UniBrum, so this seemed the perfect opportunity.
The day was sunny but cold and windy like it tends to be around here at the end of summer. Had it been nicer out, I would have missed the light streaming through these great windows as I savoured my Bee Sting Perry.
The fish and chips were alright…better than my average ones for the last few months, anyway.
Yo! Sushi needs to update their slogans. Perhaps,”Supermarket sushi made by incompetents.” Or, maybe, “Those people who left after ten minutes may be on to something.” Or, “Deliveroo first, you living/breathing scum standing before us, last.”
By the numbers …
32 minutes: wait for a seat
14 : number of empty places to sit on my arrival
10 : additional seats vacated by customers leaving before I was seated
7 : number waiting for a seat ahead of me
19 minutes — wait for the bill from first of five requests
0 : number of return visits I plan to make
I arrived at 11:51 am on a Wednesday, a few hours after checking opening times and an hour before screen capping the lead picture showing that the joint is open from 11:30. “We don’t open till noon.” Google maps has them open at 8 am, btw. I left to get a beer at a nearby bowling alley to wait 9 minutes.
Was it worth the wait? The fish was overpriced and rubbery (as I should have expected in Rubery) but at least there was more batter than fish. The chips were stale despite being the second food table in the joint. The mushy peas seemed to have been made the day before or even further back. Dreadful.
Less is more. I asked for a small cod and got a reasonable sized piece. Great. “Salt and vinegar?” Sure, why not. A near perfect amount of vinegar went down followed by a Carthaginian salting meant to desiccate me from within. They must not eat their own fare, here.
In the Taste of Italy right at noon, the ‘mini’ fish and chips had to be cooked to order which had me apprehensive about the amount of fat the portion would soak up. No need, there, as it was crisp and delicious. Very flavourful stuff, this, and the proprietor was conscientious about LIGHTLY salting but generously acidifying the repast. Very satisfying.
The large cod was going to take a few minutes to cook. I waited the few minutes and they had only cooked small cod. Very oily, both fish and chips, I was probably saved from indigestion. Or, WORSE indigestion.
None of the other customers were having fish. I should have taken their lead.
“We’re out of cod. We have scampi.” I considered it for a moment since I was famished and needed to get back to Brum. “No other fish at all?” I asked.
“I can do you the Small Fish and Chips.” I said okay and made a comment about the kids’ meal; “no, we have this for the OAPs…they don’t need as much food.”
It was precisely the right size for this OAP, and fairly tasty stuff at that.
Endless British Pub Crawl (Part 3) 