Kerbisher & Malt
Often when I come back from Britain, people ask me if I had fish & chips. I always answer no. After some not so pleasant pub meals in the early aughties, I have consistently avoided this local fare and instead opted for real British food 2.0 as in Indian curries, Turkish grills and, well, maybe some scones and afternoon tea.
This time however, while passing through Hammersmith on our way out to Heathrow, Anna and I stopped by Kerbisher & Malt on 164 Shepherds Bush Road. While already listed by those in the know, the place was still a fascinating discovery. In white and dark blue with pictograms of diving helmets, the restaurant easily served up the best fish & chips I have ever had. It all reminded me of one of the great truths of contemporary cultural capitalism: if one really has a passion for something, success almost always follows. In less than half an hour, the place was full with early Sunday lunch eaters and after a week in chain-land, I was happy to see that some people still feel for their business.
This time however, while passing through Hammersmith on our way out to Heathrow, Anna and I stopped by Kerbisher & Malt on 164 Shepherds Bush Road. While already listed by those in the know, the place was still a fascinating discovery. In white and dark blue with pictograms of diving helmets, the restaurant easily served up the best fish & chips I have ever had. It all reminded me of one of the great truths of contemporary cultural capitalism: if one really has a passion for something, success almost always follows. In less than half an hour, the place was full with early Sunday lunch eaters and after a week in chain-land, I was happy to see that some people still feel for their business.