Okay, this is a ten-minute walk from the market. But hear me out. M. Manze is a museum piece—a real, live, working pie and mash shop since 1902. They do fish and chips on certain days.
Their batter is ethereal. Impossibly light, almost tempura-like. The fish is never greasy. It’s so good you’ll want to write a sonnet about it.
And their chips? They’re that pale, fluffy, slightly limp style that Brits call “proper chips.” Not crispy fries. Dinner chips. You dunk them in curry sauce, obviously. It’s a religious experience.
