I had been carb loading for a week because I don’t really think the big pasta plate the night before a distance event does much at all to help with glycogen stores. Instead, I went the fish and chips route: easily assimilable protein, batter and potatoes for some carbs, and chip fat and fish oils for the slow burning energy…and to ameliorate the negative effects of pub crawling the night before the race. I was on my way from the Robin Hood to another pub when I spotted Wilson’s sign outside an alleyway.
Cooked fresh and delicious, the fish was as good as you can usually hope for and the chips were the sort of hand cut masterpieces that have become a rare treat. The only disconcerting thing is that the Wilson Brothers (since 1930) seemed to have retained their middle eastern accents the several generations since the chippy was founded…and what kind of Palestinian name is “Wilson,” anyway. Fantastically friendly, though, and they’ve got a good product.