383 5th Avenue
Brooklyn, NY 11215
www.chipshopnyc.com
Having spent a few months living in London, I consider myself a half-assed aficionado of all things British. I am drawn to British-themed restaurants and pubs, always chasing the dragon, trying to recreate my time in London. With this in mind, I jumped at the chance to finally go to Brooklyn’s homage to all things deep-fried, the Park Slope ChipShop. They’re well-known in Brooklyn for frying everything on their menu; you’re even able to bring in outside food, which the cook will throw in the deep fryer.
Given the faux-anarchist/punk vibe of ChipShop’s do-it-yourself website, I expected the actual restaurant to be completely different than what it was; some over-the-top, British-kitsch restaurant interior. You know what I mean; wood paneling with some flora themed wallpaper, low lighting, tables and stools that seem like they were randomly picked off the streets of different decades. Then add in some some posters like the London Calling album cover and “Keep Calm and Carry On,” a soundtrack of the Sex Pistols and the Beat. Basically, I expected my favorite pub in the working class neighborhood of New Cross in London to be picked up, wrung through an Americanization machine and dropped in Brooklyn.
Maybe the fact that the establishment is nestled into Brooklyn’s yuppie-family Park Slope neighborhood played into the interior design choices, or maybe whoever designed the website has never actually been to the restaurant. But, the interior of ChipShop was, well, boring. The lights were too bright; the walls were yellow and decorated with nicely framed posters of British movies and musicians. There were wooden benches and tables, but it still somehow felt off. The bathroom was the closest thing to what I expected, with front pages of British newspapers wallpapering the room. Occasionally pictures of the royals even had beards or mustaches drawn on them. A nice touch, but they were drawn on under the glass and it’s obvious no one was thinking, “Anarchy in the UK!” whilst performing a trivial act of vandalism. They couldn’t even get the music right, mixing British acts with American acts, like the fucking Eagles.
However, upon seeing the clientele, there was obviously a limited amount of Britishness they could inject into the place. The place was stocked with old hippie couples, single yuppies, yuppies with babies and yuppie dads out to get their deep fried fix before going home to the family. Imagine trying to put my imagined restaurant in a neighborhood with these people? It would’ve failed miserably. It is both a blessing and a curse having a business in Park Slope. You have to cater to these folks, but man, do you get good business.
The menu held typical British fare. Scotch eggs, mushy peas, shepherds pie, ploughman’s lunch and welsh rarebit all were represented. Then there’s the strange items, like deep fried pizza and deep fried mac and cheese. The beer selection was small but good. Monty Python, Old Speckled Hen and my drink of choice, Hobgoblin Ale, who just so happened to own my local pub in New Cross. They also have a small selection of British goods like PG Tips and various candies. They even sell Jaffa Cakes at a whopping $4 a box.
Foregoing their award-winning fish and chips, I opted for the pizza, mac and cheese and the oft-maligned, but very tasty, haggis – all surprisingly delicious in their own strange ways.The crunchy exterior and gooey interior of the mac and cheese played together very well. The haggis was just simple, good haggis wrapped in a golden crust. The deep-fried pizza had the most interesting texture to it. The crust provided an additional layer of crunch. The tomato sauce and warm melted cheese in the middle gave the slice just enough contrasting texture to make this my favorite of the three dishes. Dessert ended up being a deep-fried Mars bar, covered in powdered sugar. Melted chocolate inside of a deep fried crust is something everyone should experience; an ordinary chocolate bar was turned into an incredible dessert.
Besides the food, one thing that they do get right at ChipShop is the famous British lack of, and seeming disdain for, customer service. Three times the waitress, who had an accent only when she seemed to remember to put one on, messed up orders. First, she brought my friend a cider instead of the Monty Python ale. Then she brought me the haggis dinner, instead of a side of haggis, at almost twice the price. And for dessert I had ordered a Bounty bar, but ended up with the aforementioned Mars bar.
Crappy service, crappy clientele and crappy ambiance. ChipShop failed in bringing back any fond memories of my time in London, aside from the Hobgoblin Ale. But let’s be honest, I’ll go back for the food. I’ll go back to get odd things deep fried and served to me in all of its heart clogging glory. And the one thing I learned? Deep frying makes anything and everything delicious.
