One of the very real pleasures of living in Notting Hill, as I did for ten years, was being able to visit Geales; a little bit of Scarborough dropped in central London, a slightly-genteel yet chaotic sit-down fish-and-chip restaurant where the portions were huge and cooked to perfection, the haddock was properly fried in beef dripping (a rare thing in London), the mushy peas and gherkins were authentic, the chips crips on the outside and soggy in the middle as they should be, and there was always bread-and-butter, tea and apple crumble and custard for pudding. All at a price that was astonishingly reasonable for the area. The decor was basic and unpretentious, but clean. Off-duty celebrities went there to be anonymous and enjoy real good food (not at all like The Ivy where celebs are contracted to appear and the food is reputed to be no big deal.)

All things must pass. A few years ago the family that had owned it for generations sold up, and the name was snapped up by a group of Young Turks who already had a posh restaurant in Mayfair. In came the chichi interior decorators, up went the prices, down went the size of the portions, out went the quality. Those in the know abandoned it for Costas in the next street. And this weekend, I see, the Guardian ran its food critic's obituary. Quite right too.

Costas, incidentally, is one of my top three chippies of all time, and as well as the simple but excellent restaurant there are few things better than taking a wrapped haddock and chips into Holland Park on a balmy summer evening.

The other two? One has to be the one in Thurso many years ago, I don't remember the name and it's probably long gone. The other is Andy's, here in Barrow.