Go Fish

The view outside

It has been raining for days and days and days. Occasionally as a fine mist, sometimes as a torrential cascade, mostly as dull, mundane showers. It has become rather wearing. We walk around looking like soaked prunes, our skin all wrinkled by the ubiquitous moisture. I'm developing webs between my fingers, and I think I'm seeing gills starting to sprout on the kids.

On Tuesday, however, the rain eased up for few hours. I seized the opportunity afforded and ventured outside the office for lunch. I had intended to head over to Granville Island, but I could tell that the steely clouds watching were considering whether or not to douse me. So instead I diverted to the nearby Go Fish.

Dearest Friends, Go Fish is a treat. Its modest accommodation, in a neat but small shack down by False Creek Fishermen's Wharf, belies the scrummy seafood it serves up. Truth be told, I try and avoid going there on all but the rarest of occasons. You see, I have eaten in many a fine chippie, so I feel quaified to say that, fins down, they serve up the most delish fish 'n' chips in the northern hemishere*; huge roof tiles of heavenly halibut in perfect, crisp, golden, beer batter with just-right thumbs of potato. So for the sake of my arteries and waistline, I deny myself.

So on Tuesday, lured by the shack's siren call, I forewent the halibut and plumped instead for an oyster po' boy. Three enormous, juicy, fresh oysters grilled simply and served upon a superb, ciabatta-esque bun with salsa and onions. Oh, look, someone's posted a piccie of one here. After a sort spell gazing out at the trawlers at dock, my name was called and the sarnie was wrapped up in newspaper (Yes! It's true! How glorious!!) by a lovely tattooed woman. I hustled the scrumptious package back to my desk, just beating the clouds as they decided to open up again.

It's been raining pretty much ever since.

*I've not sampled any Antipodean examples, hence my geographic restriction. Second place goes to Bryan's in Headingly, and third to the chippie in Bradwell, where on Friday evening you'l wait the better part of an hour wating as the entire village drops by to pick up supper.

The King Khan & BBQ Show - Fish Fight (buy here or e-here)
Thowing Muses - Fish (buy here or e-here)
Dressy Bessy - Who'd Stop The Rain (buy here )