Nautical but nice

Things are literally shipshaped at Fishworks Marylebone, a sparkling link in a faultless gastronomic chain.

Thanks to the inspired philosophy of a-fish-ionado Mitchell Tonks, each branch has a fishmonger located on the ground floor (where fish is monged from dawn to dusk), so diners experience the gastronomic equivalent of wading through an invigorating foot bath before plunging into the big warm swimming pool.

The restaurant itself is permeated with the blissful aroma of really fresh fish and fresh garlic, while the interior design is nautical but nice, with timber decking on the floor, but not a porthole to be seen.

At a nearby table, a couple were both tucking into an enormous fruits de mer royale, because diners here have the choice of ordering individual portions, or together sharing a single huge fish. Which is brill.

To start, I had the best taramasalata I've ever eaten, while She Who Must Be Obeyed had potted shrimp (shortgoustine from Morecambe Bay, where those Chinese cocklers died for me), spread mortuary-cold on hot toast, and dusted with white pepper.

Then she chose a succulent monkfish (physiognomically the Anthony Howard of the piscine world), while I ordered skate, which was not only exquisite, but also consummated a relationship I began last summer in a French aquarium, when one came up to me and brushed its wing (the part we eat) against my hand, in an attempt to curry favour.

It didn't work, though, for I will not befriend beasts of the sea. That's why I've no time for dolphins, either, especially since I discovered that they wank incessantly, which may account for the benign and slightly dopey grin they habitually sport, whether they're frolicking with New Age swimmers or cold-bloodedly devouring an entire shoal of fish.

At a cost of about £80 for two, with wine, this was perfect fare, accompanied by a bottle of Pouilly Fumé, some Montgomery cheddar, and no sign of Rick Stein or his bloody prop dog.

The plaice was buzzing, I had no reason to carp, and deep in my sole, I felt the piece of cod that truly passeth understanding. Incidentally, if you're wondering why there are so many puns in this column it's because fish, for some reason, brings out the punster in me.

Furthermore, I thought that if I put plenty in, perhaps one would make you laugh. However, I strongly suspect that no pun in ten did.

Fishworks Seafood Cafe
Marylebone High Street, London, W1U 4QY