Just inside the entrance of Joseph’s Fish & Chips is a map of the world full of little white sewing pins. Customers of the chippy are invited to mark their home nation — and the display reflects a wealth of diversity. “Hello traveller!” reads the sign below. “We’re delighted to have you here. No matter where you’re from, we are all friends sharing good food and great memories.”
The notice goes on to quote the Oscar-winning American actress Shirley MacLaine’s famous line: “The more I travelled, the more I realised that fear makes strangers of people who should be friends.” As pertinent today as ever before amid the context of far-Right marches and Faragian rhetoric.
Pins on a map show people have visited Joseph’s from as far away as Australia, South Sudan and Hawaii
The map shows people have visited Joseph’s from as far away as Australia, South Sudan and Hawaii. Almost every country in the world is represented. I see pins in Greenland, Chile, Pakistan, Cambodia and one in the Federated States of Micronesia, a remote group of islands in the Pacific Ocean.
But the prevailing curiosity is North Korea, whose citizens aren’t generally allowed to leave. Perhaps the North Koreans who dined at Joseph’s were diplomats or held some other high-ranking position. Owner Turan Tunc tells me he isn’t sure who they were.
Jospeh’s
A simpler explanation is given for the influx of guests from South Korea: Tunc’s 15-year-old daughter is a big fan of K-Pop. She posts about the shop regularly on TikTok, often aligning with the K-Pop community, and fans from the country are taking notice. “We’re quite well known there now,” Tunc says proudly, while frying a beautiful piece of cod. “My daughter has taught herself Korean and she’s almost fluent now. She’s a huge fan of the music and the culture. And she posts on social media and people sometimes come in and mention it.”
Joseph’s is less famous in London, where there are chippies all over the city. It must be hard to stand out. Its location is unlikely to help given it’s some way along Tower Bridge Road, tucked away beyond the busier Bermondsey High Road. Angela Hartnett and José Pizarro have restaurants there, while French bistro Casse-Croûte and Italian favourite Flour & Grape court keen interest among the Instagram crowd. But peckish Londoners shouldn’t ignore Tower Bridge Road, where they’ll find the original M. Manze pie and mash shop, Tower Tandoori, Tower Mangal… and Joseph’s.
Tunc opened the chippy three years ago and named it after his father, who ran kebab shops in the area for 52 years. “We thought he should retire, but he was resistant,” Tunc explains. “He finally did, aged 69, and went back to Turkey — where he was born — to relax. But he had a heart attack quite soon after. His kebab shops are all gone now.”
Tunc only joined the hospitality game recently having previously worked in films. He made music videos for star names, including one who really stands out but he implores me not to reveal who. Grander still was securing a £2 million budget to make an animated film in China. “I was a bit naive,” he says. “I came back and thought it would be a huge success. It did OK.” Tunc opened Joseph’s with his brother and sister and they now have a second branch in Dulwich. He oversees the Tower Bridge restaurant with his wife Ebz and says the business is “stable and secure”, but “up and down”. High rents don’t help, nor do soaring utility bills and punitive taxes.
Scottish fish, Turkish tradition
As for the food, “fish prices just keep going up”, Tunc says. “But my prices are fixed. I did have to raise them but I can’t keep charging customers more because their wages aren’t improving, are they? And I really only want to buy fresh fish, the best I can find, from Peterhead in Scotland. I get deliveries each morning and fillet everything myself. It’s important.”
Tunc sources his potatoes from Cambridgeshire. He peels and chops them every day using a large machine in time for the lunch-time service, which is sometimes busy, sometimes not. Ebz looks after the mushy peas, the tartare sauce and the pickled veg — onions and gherkins — which follow the traditions of Turkish cuisine, providing a nod to the couple’s heritage. She prepares it all herself.
I sit down to eat and see a number of other signs. One details cod portions and lists sustainability credentials; another highlights rising fish prices. There’s also a note on why Tunc tries to ensure his cod is from Peterhead rather than anywhere else. “Peterhead really has the best cod available, although there are cheaper alternatives.”
Is Joseph’s the best fish and chip shop in London? Could well be
In the current climate he has to be increasingly flexible so the provenance of his fish each day can vary — occasionally they come from Iceland or Norway — and he lists this information on a blackboard, where he also states where the potatoes were grown.
Prices are in line with most other chippies in central London. Fried cod starts at £12.90, or £15.90 with chips, and each plate comes with all the traditional accoutrements.
I have cod. It’s perfectly cooked, pearly white, the tender meat concatenate before flaking into beautiful pieces. As for the batter, it’s light but generous, and the chips bring that delicate balance between soft and crisp, their golden exterior giving way to floury comfort. I douse them in vinegar and feel romantic.