The Laughing Halibut: great fish and chips… and a novel

The best fish and chips in London are found in SW1.  The Laughing Halibut also inspired a scene in an upcoming novel of mine.  

Life’s been good to me so far

‘One of my favourite restaurants in London is the Laughing Halibut,’ I say as we eat our lunch in Vienna.  ‘When I first started eating there in 1979, it was run by this Italian guy, and one of his sons used to work there, a young bloke.  Now, the son is still there, he seems to run the place, but he has become a much older man.’

’40 years is a long time, I guess,’ my friend says.  ‘The Italian has aged.  But you’ve stayed the same.’

‘Correct!  It’s like that Joe Walsh song, Life’s been good to me so far.  Great lyrics.  It’s tough to handle this fortune and fame, he sings.  Everybody’s so different, I haven’t changed.  Best fish and chips in central London.’

A delicious portion of chips from the Laughing Halibut – LT

I often think of the Laughing Halibut, and would recommend it to anyone visiting or living in London.  In fact, I like it so much that it features in a key scene in a novel of mine, which is on ice at present but might see the light of day in a couple of years.  The scene also features a phlegmatic Italian waiter.

The scene is as follows.  Angus Fairfax, the protagonist of the book, is meeting his wife Carolyn for lunch.

Excerpt from an unpublished novel

CAROLYN HAD INSTITUTED regular Tuesday lunches when she was promoted to Director General for European Affairs. ‘I’ll tell Jackie to put you in the diary,’ she’d said. ‘Otherwise, I’ll never see you.’

She’d been right. These days, most of our conversations took place in the Laughing Halibut.

Strutton Ground was a cobbled lane that appeared to have been transplanted whole from the depths of the East End. Hand-drawn barrows sold cheap batteries, hot snacks, and miracle devices for cleaning both sides of window panes. At the far end, sandwiched between a cafe and a charity shop, the Laughing Halibut sold the best fish and chips in central London.

Carolyn sat reading the Financial times at a Formica-topped table, sovereign as a superhero in the bright, low-ceilinged room. It took her ages to fold the paper away.

‘Have you ordered yet?’ I said.

‘No. I was waiting for you.’

‘I thought I was pretty on-time.’

‘I’m sure you did.’

One of the Italian waiters who had worked in the Laughing Halibut since records began came to take our order.

‘I’ll have the battered sausage and chips,’ I said. ‘I feel a bit like a battered sausage today’.

Carolyn didn’t smile. Nor did the waiter.

‘You can’t go through life avoiding all sources of fat,’ I forged on. Had I lost the power of speech without noticing? ‘Ned was telling me about this tribe in the Amazon who eat nothing but battered sausages and chips. They all live to be a hundred.’

‘Angus,’ Carolyn said. That was all.

‘What?’

‘We can’t go on like this.’

I blinked. ‘How do you mean?’

‘Whatever happened to that thrusting young second secretary I fell in love with in Paris?’

‘You never told me about him.’

Still Carolyn did not smile. ‘You were bursting with energy. Now, you seem incapable of the simplest thing. What’s wrong with you?’

Wrong? Nothing was wrong with me. Or did Carolyn know something I didn’t? That was true of most areas of life. She sat impassively, as if she’d asked me the simplest question on earth.

Put your feet flat and sit up straight.

‘If you mean my performance in the foreign secretary’s meeting,’ I said, ‘that’s your fault.’

‘My fault? What on earth are you talking about?’

‘You know how jittery I get in big meetings. Why did you ask me the most impossible question in the world, in front of the foreign secretary and Lord Norfolk? It was like you were trying to sabotage me.’

‘No need to get paranoid, Angus. How could I sabotage you by giving you a chance to impress two of the most influential politicians in the country?’

‘You know full well no one has a clue how to make the Germans pay for the EFEA.’

‘Well, you should have a clue. You’re desk officer for European finance and technology, for God’s sake.’

I speared a chip. Today was clearly one of those days when Carolyn made being in love with her especially difficult.

Could Sarah actually be right that I should go to Jayne’s farewell party?

‘I’m sorry I didn’t do better,’ I said.

‘Angus.’ Carolyn folded her arms across her chest and lowered her voice, as if the assembled crowd of office workers and taxi drivers could overhear us above the din of the deep-fat fryers, or would care if they did. ‘I want to make things better. But you haven’t been promoted for years. When I give you a chance to perform, you mess it up. You’ve got to move your career forwards.’

This sounded more positive. ‘I’m open to ideas,’ I said. ‘But are things really that bad?’

‘They’re worse.’ Carolyn leaned towards me. ‘Shall I tell you what the foreign secretary said after today’s meeting? She said, “Who on earth is that man?” She said you seemed underpowered for such a key role. I tried to come up with arguments to the contrary, but it wasn’t easy.’

‘Well, sorry if I’m embarrassing you.’

‘That’s not fair.’ Carolyn raised her hand as if to jab a finger at me, then lowered it. ‘OK, so nul points isn’t every woman’s dream.’ She sat back. ‘I still want you to be a role model for the children. Will you work with me on that? I have a plan.’

‘Don’t drag Emily and Ned into this,’ I said.

Carolyn took off her glasses. It was a gesture I’d noticed several times recently. When she spoke, her voice was lower than ever. ‘You can save your career by saving the summit. The eyes of the world will be on Cologne next week. They’re even holding the summit during the Carnival, instead of inviting the leaders of the free world to hide up a mountain or on some remote island. Better optics. Nothing to hide.’

‘They’re probably hoping everyone will be too drunk to protest.’

‘The key to stopping Biotime is for you to persuade the Germans to pay for the EFEA before Cologne.’ She reached across the table and patted my hand, then glanced at her watch. ‘Why don’t you run off and get cracking? I’m home this evening, for Emily and Ned. You can work until midnight.’ She brushed a speck of something invisible off the sleeve of her chic suit, as if consigning me, and our relationship, to oblivion. ‘If that helps.’

Around us, waiters ferried fresh plates of fish and chips to hungry diners. Carolyn was trying to help me. So why did I feel like I was under attack?

‘Or else what?’ I said. ‘What did you mean, I can’t go on like this? Do you mean the job? Or the family?’

‘All I want is a man I can take seriously.’

‘Thanks very much.’ Inside the batter, my sausage was bright pink. ‘But what if I can’t save the summit? Are you saying I won’t have a future in the Foreign Office? In the family? Or both?’

‘Don’t be so dramatic,’ Carolyn said. ‘Of course, if the foreign secretary expresses a view that you’re underpowered and the summit fails, HR will have to respond. But if the summit fails, the fate of Angus Fairfax will be the least of our problems.’ She rose and left the restaurant.

I gazed at the ruins of my lunch. Carolyn had avoided answering my question. She hadn’t even said she wanted our marriage to continue. Were both my job and my children on the line? How the hell would I get the Germans to pay up to stop Biotime—on which, it seemed, my future life and happiness depended?

In the hubbub of the Laughing Halibut, I had never felt so lonely.

[Excerpt ends]

I hope you enjoyed the excerpt.  I would welcome your comments, either on the writing or on the restaurant, which I believe offers the best fish and chips in London.

The Laughing Halibut is at 38 Strutton Ground, Westminster, London SW1P 2HR.  

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