A Fyne taste of Scotland

This review was published in July 2001.

I once celebrated a really memorable birthday at the original Loch Fyne Oyster Restaurant in Clachan, in a whitewashed former cow shed overlooking the loch. It was a brilliant day, one of those you only ever have a handful of in a lifetime; the sun was shining, the wine flowed, we all looked young and gorgeous, the almost Hollywood Scotland view drew gasps of admiration even from those of us well used to Caledonia's charms. And the food was great: spankingly fresh seafood, simply presented and tasting marvellously of itself.

So I was sad to watch as this quirky one-off became a chain, albeit a remarkably low-key one. Astonishingly, the Loch Fyne Restaurant Company now owns about ten restaurants (they plan to make it 20), mostly around the south of England, each one successfully plying its trade with a minimum of fuss. Their new branch in Crouch End was already packed when we visited; a visit made, on my part at least, with some trepidation. Not only could it not live up to my memory but I was worried it would be tarnished and damaged.

Well, it wasn't. The branches might not boast the parent's delirious location but all the other ingredients are firmly in place: a buzzy and informal atmosphere; laid-back décor with restrained touches of nauticalia, utterly charming staff; and fabulous seafood.

Everything we ate was a study in how not to muck about with good raw ingredients. A Loch Fyne Ashet featured Bradan Rost (kiln-roasted salmon), Bradan Orach (strongly smoked salmon), good old regular smoked salmon and gravadlax. It was all silkily, meltingly, luxuriously good. Ashellfish platter groaned under the weight of a blushingly yielding lobster, fresh, sweet langoustines, tender, grit-free rope-grown mussels, queen scallops and clams. Even the bread and chips were great.

But it's not just the food that contributes to the success story. In a sad period when even the once taken-forgranted cod is an endangered species, as is (and this was news to me) wild salmon, they are passionate about the environment. One of the founding directors, Andy Lane, has a degree in marine biology; his expertise is crystallised into a philosophy of sustainability:

'We under-take,' they say, 'to ensure the environmental impact of our activities is at least neutral and strives to be positive.' Loch Fyne's salmon, for example, comes from the Sustainable Salmon Company (a nice example of does-what-it-says titling) at Loch Duart, whose dedication to the welfare of both fish and environment is staggering: they practise low-density stocking, feed fish from sustainable resources free from GM foods and all salmon stock is traceable to egg and forebears. And sorry to bring all this altruism down to its lowest common denominator, but you can real-ly taste the difference.

Even their locations are chosen with care: LFR site their restaurants in unusual or historic buildings. And, since most of the food is actually produced by the company - their smokehouse, their mussel beds, their oyster farm - prices are kept very reasonable (with a jolly nice Entre Deux Mers, we paid about £70 for our lobster-laden blowout). Normally, I avoid chains like the plague, but this is a lesson on how to do a perfectly blinding job.

Loch Fyne Restaurant
2 Park Road, N8