Seaside fish and chips often seem like a good idea, only then to disappoint. In search of a traditional top-quality chippie, I travel by train to Whitby. My fellow travellers are families having a whale of a time. Past Battersby, Glasidale and Grosmont we rumble by hill sheep and heather, dark moors and intimate dales, their slopes ruled by shaky drystone walls. We glance the banks of the Esk, which turns from dozy, oozy caramel to racy milk chocolate, then, at Whitby, washes into the sea.
For a thousand years, Whitby flourished as a centre for saints and synods. Captain Cook sailed from here. Whaling and the Victorian railway brought prosperity, as did its alum and jet mines. Today, as you leave the train, Whitby welcomes you with the smell of frying fish. Joining the flow of day-trippers washing along the close-cobbled streets, I peer into fishermen's cottages, Justin's fudge shop and Border's, where herrings have been traditionally kippered for 130 years.
On a Monday lunchtime, in this town devoted to the chippie, one place stands out by virtue of its queue. The Magpie Cafe is right across the street from the fish market, which is being sluiced down after a morning's trading. After 40 minutes in line, I'm led into a room of country cafe furniture perched on Axminster and accessorised by chintz curtains, knick-knacks, whatnots and fish-shaped specials boards. Those already crowding the tables seem exceedingly pleased with their grub and include a table of the local posh, declaiming stagily as if on Acorn Antiques, as well as a few Mrs Overalls, their husbands' man-breasts barely constrained by T-shirts. Service is mumsy, friendly and fast.
The lengthy menu offers you the chance to go modish or stay traditional. Glasses of grapefruit juice are offered as starters, as are Fortune's kippers, or local squid stirfried Thai-style. I stay trad with Whitby crab and prawns, which come piled high, brown bread and butter triangles on the side. The crab is very fresh, the prawns beautifully pert. A beautiful start. I could have pushed the boat out next with lobster thermidor, but opt for haddock and chips, described on the menu as "called small, but remember it's Yorkshire". The fish is impeccable - pearly, moist and held in the lightest, crispest, most smashing batter. The chips (like so many of the patrons) look plump and a bit pallid but taste like everything and more that any potato could wish to become. My mushy peas are perfectly mushed. You can drink champagne or a pint: I have a pot of Yorkshire tea. There's jam roly poly or spotted dick, or gingerbread with Wensleydale, should you possess an extraordinary constitution.
Ian is the third generation of Robsons to run this place. He says that his batter is flour, water and baking powder. That's all. No secret. Really good fish and chips is only a question of very good ingredients, fresh every day, and good old-fashioned traditional beef dripping for frying. Beef dripping, Ian? "Yes, lad. Not a new idea."
· Magpie Cafe, 14 Pier Rd (01947 602058, magpiecafe.co.uk). London-Darlington with GNER (gner.co.uk) from £20 rtn. The Esk Valley Railway ( eskvalleyrailway.co .uk) meanders between Middlesborough and Whitby. The Whitby Regatta ( whitbyregatta.co.uk) is on this weekend.
