Taste this

It's been more than 20 years since I last visited the British Isles, but I still occasionally get a craving for authentic fish and chips.

At least, that's what I thought I was craving. Then I stopped in at Connolly's recently and had the best fish and chips I've had since London Fish and Chips (a short-lived eatery in Cary that truly lived up to its billing as "the Triangle's only authentic English chippie") closed two years ago.

I've had the fish and chips a handful of times over the years at Connolly's, and have always been favorably impressed. This time, though, the fish was exceptional: two substantial fillets, moist and flaky under a textbook golden batter that was as crisp, light and grease-free as any I've had in recent memory. A generous heap of authentically thick-cut fries - er, chips - accompanied the fish, as well as homemade tartar sauce and a conscience-assuaging portion of broccoli. Would I like malt vinegar, the waiter wanted to know? Indeed I would.

OK, I thought, so the broccoli and tartar sauce aren't authentic. But surely the fish is? At any rate, I had to know what made it so exceptional. I called the restaurant and spoke to general manager Sami Taweel.

Turns out the fish (which the menu describes with the catch-all term "Atlantic whitefish") isn't cod or haddock or pollock, or any of the other fish you might reasonably expect to find in an English or Irish chip shop. It's grouper, from our own southern Atlantic coastal waters. "We used to use pollock," Taweel explained, "but the quality wasn't consistent." Chalk up another one for the "buy local" movement.

And the all-important beer in the batter? I was thinking Harp's, or maybe Bass. Nope. Try Miller Lite. All I can say is, it's less filling and it tastes great.

So it wasn't necessarily authentic fish and chips I was craving, after all. It was really good fish and chips, and Connolly's delivers big time.