Mosimann and chips

Now foodies can visit the local chippy, too; It would be wrong to assume that M Fish is anything so banal as a new restaurant. M Fish is a new concept. A concept which comes with its own Mosimann 'philosophy' Photograph by Madeleine Waller

The waitress who conducted us to our table had a figure that most fish and chip eaters would die for. In fact, the staff at M Fish look as if they've walked out of a Fame promo: midriff-exposing Bustenhalters and black minis for the girls; black pecs-hugging T-shirts for the boys. The Amanda Wakeley-designed uniforms are clearly part of Anton Mosimann's new concept that you don't have to be a fat slob Northerner to patronise a chippy.

The Swiss chef's latest project is cunning: tap into a fast food market, add a heavy slug of Japanese influence and hey presto fish and chips made acceptable for foodies and the health-conscious alike.

A hard-body waiter loomed up to take our drinks order. "Ooh, Bantry Bay muscles," sighed Phillipa, I thought somewhat freshly - until I realised her eye had fallen not on the waiter but on one of the hors-d'oeuvres - mussels simmered in cream and herbs. The menu (concocted by Mosimann and M Fish chef Stephen Whitney, ex-head chef at Mosimann's Dining Club) invites experiment with our symbol of national stodge in the way that a glance down the menus of Harry Ramsden's, London's Sea Shell or other serious fish and chippies only makes your eyes glaze over. The starters boded well. Herrings marinated in champagne- vinegar and fresh dill, thyme and tarragon, looked like fuschia slugs eyeing a small pile of new potatoes, but long marinating had produced a gorgeous softness of texture without any vinegary sourness. Smoked Scottish salmon with lemon sour cream was pleasantly moist and had been smoked over whisky oak chips - presumably from old whisky barrels. But the tiger prawns "all the way from the Indian Ocean" should have stayed there. "Bathed" in Japanese wasabi, mustard, ginger paste and mayonnaise, of which only the mayonnaise made an impression, they were otherwise tasteless.

Mosimann's aim is to make fish and chips healthier, rather than healthy. To achieve this, he uses a light Japanese vegetable oil to create a range of batters which sound fantastic: sun-dried tomato (for the cod), tarragon (for the rock salmon), sweet corn and ginger for the oh-so-fashionable soft-shell crab from Maryland. The fish is double fried in these batters, the second frying being so hot as, he claims, to dispel the fat. In the process, perhaps it fried out all the flavour, for I could not discern significant levels of sun-dried tomato, tarragon or ginger in any of these dishes - although I was served goujons of cod (rather than a piece of succulent fillet which I had expected from the menu), thus augmenting the batter-to-cod ratio. Even the chips - big and heavy - are battered with a herb mixture, the smaller, crisper ones being therefore tastier.

We ordered a bottle of Pouilly-Fume 1992 Henri Bourgeois, partly because it was an old friend, partly because there was no indication where the other wines, a mix of old and New World, came from. The New World waiter, his were the Bondi Beach muscles, did not know which wines came from Chile and which from Australia, though this, and the fact that courses lagged in a manner not acceptable for a fast food joint, are the only quibbles about service which was otherwise welcoming and fun. Prices are careful to steer a middle course - my cod and chips was pounds 6.45, for example. The most expensive main courses - grilled swordfish, or red mullet and sweet potato - were pounds 8.25.

The Japanese influence is present not only on the menu but on the interior, the work of JSP, designers of the Japanese fast food restaurant Wagamama in Holborn, central London. It is so cool and nautically minimalist as to veer dangerously towards the bland, although the restaurant's charming setting between two harbours of St Katherine's Dock, at the start of London's Docklands, comes to the rescue. The choice of a yellow M logo with a red line through it is strangely reminiscent of the McDonalds sign, and the menu even included chicken nuggets - but without the "Mc". The logo has even found its way on to the nasty little cardboard boxes which kept belching their contents across the table - in our case chips and tempura vegetables. The manager assured me that the "M" was nothing to do with Mosimann who, as advisor to the restaurant is only paid for the concept and the menu. Perhaps it is for: Mmm, fast food?

At this point, I should warn you that it would be wrong to assume that M Fish is anything so banal as a new restaurant. There are plans for a chain, but that's not all. M Fish is a new concept. A concept which, as the waiter informed me, comes with its own Mosimann "philosophy", to which, as honoured guest, you are expected meekly to subscribe. This means that coffee and pudding have been banned (for health or customer turnover reasons?) but not that other restaurant-nasty - nicotine. Even tea has been removed in favour of an acid-yellow Japanese herbal variety, served in an austere white handle-less beaker - facts that were the subject of no little disgruntled chuntering from fellow diners. Such a pity that we couldn't have followed one course of redesigned national stodge with another: Mosimann's bread and butter pudding. And if not that - surely, to cleanse the palate, a lychee is not too much too ask?

M Fish, 12 Ivory House, St Katherine's Dock, London E1 (0171-680 0990). No reservations. Average price per person, for two courses with half bottle of wine, about pounds 20, including VAT but not service.