Regional & Seasonal: The Fish Shack, Northumberland
Wavelets lap the struts of Amble pier, and as turnstones scurry up and down the path, a fishing boat chugs in, laden with boxes of red gurnard and mullet. It passes walkers, dogs ruffled by the sea air and people leaning on the handrail, gazing out to sea, before reaching a small wooden shack. The benches outside are thronged with people wrapped warmly against the wind blowing in off the North Sea. Inside, low, happy chatter is interspersed with the chink of cutlery on enamel, bursts of laughter and the occasional clunk as a board, heavy with lobster, crab and spring leaves, is placed on a table. Here, at the Fish Shack in Amble, on the Northumberland coast, seafood is often caught within view of the door. The eatery is owned by chef Martin Charlton and his wife, Ruth. “We can buy all of our dressed crabs and lobsters from just a few yards away,” says Martin. “People go out fishing for pollock, sea trout and salmon, and drop them straight round.” The Fish Shack began by serving simple fare, such as battered fish and chips and fish finger sandwiches. Over time, however, the menu developed and expanded. “The mussels are really special: people love them,” says Martin. “They’re simply the best Shetland mussels you can buy, cooked in white wine and cream. Then we get griddled plaice fillets. We get fresh mackerel in the morning and simply chargrill it. That’s amazing.” The café is closely tied to the community and largely staffed by locals. One young chef began his career washing pots in the kitchen, and their fishermen often stop by to eat the food which they delivered earlier that day. These close relationships mean that running out of fish is rarely a problem. “Sometimes if we get a busy Saturday, and we’re running a bit short, I’ll call up one of our fishermen, ask where he is and if he can get us some mackerel on the way back in,” says Martin. “He’ll put some lines out, and we’ll have a box within the hour.” The actual building has its origins in the desire to save a piece of local heritage. When a boatyard in Amble was due to be turned into a harbour village, all the old boats moored there had to be removed. “One of the boats was built in 1963 to teach Amble kids how to sail,” says Martin. “It was going to be destroyed because nobody wanted it. So we took it, turned it upside down and put some doors on.” The boat huts stand on either side of the squarely built wooden shack, housing rough wooden tables and mismatched chairs. The ribbing is left exposed; decorated with fishing nets, wicker traps and sea-beaten buoys.
This decoration continues in the main building, where fairy lights twinkle, Tilley lamps hang above the windows, and a vintage jukebox jangles in the corner. Lobster pots are stacked outside the front door, where a blackboard welcomes people and dogs to warm themselves by the fire. “It was a tough sort of journey just to get the café open, because we had to build it from the ground up,” says Martin. “Sometimes we would wonder if we would ever open.” The dramatic location draws people year-round. “It is a wild land: it has an amazing coast, with challenging, beautiful countryside,” he says. “People come down for a walk, sit, have a drink and take in the view. It’s very popular, with people who just want fish and chips to those who want Holy Island oysters.” The sizzle as another fish hits the griddle confirms the fact. Another boat, loaded with a fresh catch, comes chugging in.
On the Northumberland coast, a café made from upturned boats serves food fresh from the sea