On our last day in Scotland, my wife insisted we visit St Andrew’s…not a golfer, I grudgingly agreed and figured at the very worst, the drive would be fun.
Before we departed our wonderful cluster of cottages in Perth, run by the Brown family, the retired aunt who lived and served as ambassador and tour guide, said we had to take a side trip while there and visit the best the small and picturesque fishing villages and specifically, quite emphatically, have the best fish ‘n chips at the Scotland at the Anstruther Fish Bar.
I even took a picture of one of their most recent awards.
The word “picturesque” is a cliche, after all there are so many beautiful and picturesque places in the world; but these series of small villages reminded us of the their identical twins in New England. After a brief tour of St. Andrews, off we went to grab our lunch.
The fish bar was brightly painted, as was the entire waterfront, facing the grey turgid sea. It was passed 2 pm, but the line was out the door, each small table full of plastic fish n chips with their greasy wax paper and tiny packets of sauces galore. The place was noisy, but had a “we don’t take ourselves too serious” aspect, personified by the brass polls waiting lines and the statue of the stoic fisherman who stood at the end, between you and your meal.
Did it feel touristy? Not at all. Completely local. “You know the Royals stop here,” whispered one waitress to us as she slide our fish ‘n chips onto the table. Well, you can’t say pretentious always has to associate with great food, but the vibe of genuine, take-it-or-leave-it and if you leave it you’re a fool, was pervasive. This was a loyal crowd. And the meal? Ok, I have had one better in the U.S. but this was simply, diet-busting, artery clogging, fantastic.
Outspoken Traveler 