We tried the UK’s most expensive chippy so you don’t have to

It’s best known for battered Mars Bars and battered… well, everything, but the reality of Glasgow’s food scene in 2022 is quite different.

Former no-go areas such as Finnieston now heave with hipster cafes and gin bars; the city has won two Michelin stars in the last two years. There’s no denying the culinary landscape has changed.

It’s still possible to buy a traditional fish and chips – or “fish supper,” as it’s locally known – but you’ll have to head to the suburbs, as gentrification has pushed these former institutions farther out of town.

Perhaps it was fear of irrelevance that provoked one such shop to reach out to the bourgeoisie: Enzo’s, an Italian-owned chippy in the southwestern ‘burb of Crookston, has launched the UK’s most expensive fish supper.

It’s £79.99 and includes two large fillets of battered fish, two battered sausages, kielbasa, chips, pickled onions, mushy peas, tartare sauce and lemons – all covered in 24-carat gold leaf.

Behold, Enzo’s gold-leaf covered chippy tea (Credit: Instagram/
@enzos_crookston)

Now we know what you’re thinking, almost £80 for a chippy tea has to be a joke, right? But maybe we were missing something? Maybe this really was the best fish and chips the UK had to offer.

Keen to get to the bottom of what on earth was going on, we sent local reviewer, Sarah, to Enzo’s to try their very expensive catch of the day…

Arriving at the chippy

As we pull up outside Enzo’s, my companion remarks that it looks “serious.” I’m inclined to agree – despite the neon fish on the outer wall, the abundant planters and Edison bulbs suggest upmarket aspirations.

Stepping inside, the prevailing smell is of pizza – it takes a few more seconds for the tang of oil and vinegar to come through.

The overall vibe is “reluctant chippy,” as in: “We just wanted to serve pizza, but local market forces forced us to serve chips, too.”

Enzo’s isn’t your standard chippy – it’s also a pizzeria (Credit: Sarah Gillespie)

Placing a very pricey order

I suddenly realise that I can’t see the gold-plated supper anywhere on the menu. The prices look normal – £8.70 for a two-fillet meal.

I approach the server. “Are you… still doing the gold-leaf fish supper?”

“Yes,” she says, after a beat. “Wait… do you want to order one?” There’s shock, and then delight, as the staff realise that I’m deadly serious.

My server tells me that it’ll be a 20-minute wait, and that she hopes I’m hungry (it’s a four-person meal).

They couldn’t believe I was ordering the pricey fish supper (Credit: Sarah Gillespie)

“We’ve made nine of them altogether, but you’re actually only the second person who’s ordered it,” says manager Kayleigh Canning. “The other seven were made for the media.”

She adds that her boss was inspired by Salt Bae’s £700 gold-plated tomahawk steaks (a controversial muse, if there ever was one, but an undisputed internet sensation, nonetheless).

On such evidence, I assume that this meal was always intended for TikTokers and press, rather than the public. It’s worked – because here I am, waiting on a £79.99 fish supper.

Tasting the UK’s most expensive fish and chips

After 20 minutes, I finally receive a hefty 16-inch pizza box. Enzo’s is takeaway-only, but Papi, a waiter at Leonardo’s restaurant across the road, kindly allows us to use one of their outdoor tables.

I open the box and am nearly blinded. It’s a strangely sunny day in Glasgow, and our edible bling reflects that sun with retina-melting intensity. Once my eyes adjust, I can see what it is: a fish supper. With gold on it.

Tasting each component in turn, I find nothing to refute that notion. The pickled onion is pickled, the mushy peas are mushy. The fish tastes… fishy. It’s remarkably unremarkable, aside from being oilier than average; it’s far from the best fish and chips I’ve had.

Does the gold add anything? No, but it does detract – specifically from our ability to squeeze the lemon. The gold has sealed it shut, and the juice dribbles pathetically from the corners.

The gold leaf was quite something IRL (Credit: Sarah Gillespie)

I’m in the middle of observing that the chips are maybe slightly crispier when my pal interjects, “It’s like they forgot to take the tinfoil off,” and I can no longer speak for laughing.

The mirth intensifies when we realise that the gold has stuck to our teeth, making us look like rappers. We also can’t help but wonder what the gold might look like… the next day.

Looking at the fresh pasta dinners through the window of Leonardo’s, I feel a pang of jealousy. As if on cue, Papi comes out with more drinks.

“How much?” he asks, pointing at the supper. There’s an awkward silence, and then I tell him. “Eighteen?” he asks. I have to repeat myself.

What did I think of it? Well, not much (Credit: Sarah Gillespie)

Papi’s eyes widen; he’s lost for words. Then he finds them – well, three of them. “That’s too much,” he says. He repeats this several times before finding more words, none of them complimentary.

“That,” he says, pointing at the fish – “is £1.” “That,” – pointing at the sausage – “is £2. I buy 100 haddock for £35. It’s too much; it’s too much.” I resist the urge to ask him the value of the gold leaf.

The waiter slaps the Leonardo’s menu down on the table. “You come here next time. I’ll give you reasonably priced, good food.”

He walks off, shaking his head.

Is Enzo’s worth the dosh?

Turning back to our lustrous yet lacklustre supper, I can’t fathom who Enzo’s was hoping to target with this – the bourgeoisie would much prefer Leonardo’s sea bass (£15.20).

Tourists, perhaps? No. Without any other attractions around, it’s hard to see them venturing to suburban Crookston for a wildly overpriced chippy, no matter how shiny. Perhaps if magpies had disposable income…

No matter how you look at it, £79.99 is a lot of money for a fish supper – even one for four people.

Yet despite the naked publicity grab and average food, the staff’s friendliness, Glaswegian good humour and genuine lack of cynicism had me wishing them well.

I’d return to Enzo’s, but maybe for a regular pizza next time. And let’s face it…at £20 per person, it’s still cheaper than London.

Words by: Sarah Gillespie