John Gibson: Feliciano and the art of the fish supper

Published on Wednesday 17 June 2009 09:06

A FISH supper pandemic? We can assume the fish supper has gone global now that America's First Lady, in London with the bairns, treated them both to fish and chips in a Mayfair pub.

On the President's tab Malia, 10, and Sasha, 8, scoffed their 7.95 suppers, blissfully unaware that had they been in Montgomery Street, just off Leith Walk, they could have saved their dad a bob or two by dining in The Montgomery where the same dish – and probably yummier – costs 6.10.

Currently the best fish supper in town, fitting all my criteria. Batter, fish so fresh it almost tingles, sauce, vinegar.

Feliciano Di Canto (no relation to Jose) is the fryer. The Montgomery's been his place these last six years, since he quit cheffing at Giuliano's up the road. Wouldn't put it past the rangy Roman to stick above the shop a By Appointment sign . . . to Gordon Strachan, Neil Connery and football's David Fernandez and Ian McCall. They've all suppered there.

Says Feliciano: "I hope I can persuade Yogi Hughes to pop in. He was raised in Leith where the fish supper was a staple in the diet. Meantime, I'm going to feature pizza much more on our menu.

"We've got to stimulate business around here, the trams upheaval having turned it into a disaster area for shopkeepers."

By the way, Greta Scacchi is doing her bit for the fish supper this week, posing in the papers without a stitch apart from a strategically-placed wet fish.

Back off, Beckett

Come back, Gorbals Mick! All is nearly forgiven because, God spare us, Margaret Beckett is being tipped as replacement Speaker. Beckett, 66, on the box every other teatime? The very thought of it is enough to put viewers clean off their tea.

Dragged into the expenses scandal (she seems to be getting away with it, as are her dodgy colleagues), Beckett should be restricted to Transylvanian telly.

Sister Wendy Beckett, 79, figure of TV fun in the Nineties, who might be compared to Matron Margaret, has a book out.

Why not wheel Wendy up here for the Book Festival, directed this year by a former bishop who walked tall in episcopacy? What the bookfest needs is some good-time religion.