The other day, an unusually frisky lobster tried to liberate itself from the wet-fish counter at Mhorfish in Callander, causing some short-lived consternation to diners at an adjacent table. A crustacean on the loose is not a hazard commonly encountered in the typical fish-and-chip shop, far less one in this serene Perthshire town. But then Mhorfish is unlike any other chippie you'll find in Britain. Where else would you find diners savouring oysters and John Dory sitting next to those tucking into fish suppers and pie and chips?
Two years ago, this establishment was known as the Ben Ledi Café, an archetypally British greasy-spoon café cum chippie cum ice-cream parlour, with that familiar repertoire of cigarettes, sweets, lemonade and newspapers. Now reincarnated as Mhorfish, it is an inspiring model for what could be a new wave of democratically priced, sustainable fish enterprises.
Mhorfish is a three-in-one concept: a fishmonger, café-restaurant and chip shop all rolled into one. It's the brainchild of three siblings, Tom, Dick and Melanie Lewis, from the dynamic farming family that owns Monachyle Mhor, one of Scotland's top foodie hotels. 'One Friday night we heard that the Ben Ledi was for sale, and on the spur of the moment, we decided to bid for it,' says Tom. 'Blow me, the next day we bloody got it. So then we had to go to the bank and try to raise the money.'
At first, the Lewises intended to convert it into a food shop, but then they discovered a 100-year-old sign, lost under the modern fascia, that read 'Fish Restaurant'. Taking the business back down this route had its attractions. There was no fishmonger in Callander, just a weekly fish van, nor any restaurant specialising in fish. But any departure from the chippie formula was a risk. Callander is a small town with conservative tastes, dependent for passing trade on cost-conscious bus tourists and hill walkers. A mere whiff of the exclusivity that often surrounds fish restaurants in the UK could have killed any adventurous new enterprise stone dead.
But walk into Mhorfish today, and you can see how the Lewis family has transformed the business yet kept the punters streaming in. The biggest innovation is a splendid wet-fish counter that features a diverse line-up of bright-eyed fish alongside fidgety shellfish. It's an array rarely encountered even in the best independent fish shops, and better still, at approachable prices. The family's fish merchant is an ex-chef who supplies mixed boxes of fish from Scrabster, which allows Mhorfish to offer a serendipitous miscellany of ultra-fresh fish and an exciting, ever-changing range at keen prices.
This line-up is presided over by chef and fishmonger Dave Johns, a cheery Australian whose enthusiasm for seafood is infectious. He'll fillet a fish on the spot and customers can have it baked, grilled or pan-fried in the café kitchen, deep-fried in the chip shop, or just prepared for home-cooking complete with some choice ready-prepared ingredients - home-made breadcrumbs, herb butters, tartare sauce, et cetera - and cooking advice.
Meanwhile the chip-shop part of the enterprise has been rethought. The Lewises feature a daily white fish, favouring a sustainable species like pollack or coley to challenge the idea that a fish supper must inevitably consist of the over-fished haddock (Scotland prefers it to cod). They have also gone back to frying in the traditional medium of beef dripping, which, Tom insists, is 'essential for a good fish supper'. A crisp flour-and-water batter is lightened up further by the last-minute addition of sparkling water. The takeaways come in compostable packaging and old cooking fat is being made into biofuel to power the family's delivery vans .
On the café front, the introduction of new dishes such as mussel-and-saffron risotto has been accompanied by changes to the staple greasy-spoon favourites. Fish cakes, more commonly encountered as claggy discs of dehydrated potato in lurid orange rusk, have been replaced by crusty, golden patties, loaded with crab and spiked with herbs and lemon.
Burgers are handmade using venison shot in the glens around the hotel and seasoned with herbs from its garden. Traditionalists can still opt for a Scotch pie - a national speciality that ranges from the delightful to the disgusting (generally, the latter) - but at Mhorfish, the lamb filling comes from the family's farm, and is all butchered, minced and seasoned by Tom.
The pie casings are made to a classic recipe which requires that the pastry is dried out at room temperature for three days. This happens at an old bakery and tearoom just along the road which the family took over last year and renamed Mhorbread. So your burger comes in a bap, and your fish tea comes with bread, all made to the family's exacting standards which means no hi-tech bakery additives, only four ingredients: flour, salt, water and yeast.
What with the fish restaurant, bakery, hotel and farm, you might think that the Lewises had their hands full, but they cannot stop themselves being sucked into foodie activities, such as supplying local schools with lunches made from local ingredients, and running tastings and classes. It's as if the Lewis family has some creative food gene that is permanently switched on. If they could bottle it, then they could make a small fortune. Their next venture?
· Mhorfish, 75-77 Main Street, Callander, Perthshire 01877 330 213, http://mhor.net/fish/
