Hint: it’s tucked away in a small suburb
Randburg, Johannesburg — 23 December 2025
Yesterday, I found myself swimming back to familiar waters: a fish-and-chip takeaway in Darrenwood, Randburg. The Fish Hook isn’t flashy or fashionable, and that’s exactly the point. It’s the kind of place you hear about from a local years ago and quietly keep in your mental net for when the craving strikes.
After being away from Johannesburg for two years, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect. Cities change. Neighbourhoods drift. Places you love can sometimes end up dead in the water. Johannesburg, after all, can feel like a big pond where even good things struggle to stay afloat. But Randburg — part of the northern suburbs — has always felt slightly removed from the chaos, swimming against the current in its own way.
Walking into The Fish Hook felt like casting a line and getting a bite straight away. The owner, Clinton Kahn, greeted me warmly and, to my genuine surprise, remembered me. I was taken aback — after all, I’m no big fish in a small pond here, just an occasional customer from years past. Still, he remembered. Hook, line, and sinker.
This isn’t a restaurant review. Think of it more as a few observations from someone who knows exactly what they want when the chips are down: traditional fish and chips. No reinvention. No distractions. No red herrings.
For me, the fish must be properly fried — crisp batter on the outside, fluffy white flesh inside. Light seasoning is fine, but the crunch is non-negotiable. That’s the finishing fin. The chips, too, must be crisp, not limp or soggy. Fish and chips is one of those classic partnerships — the good companions — where if one fails, the whole plate sinks.
There are rules, of course. Fish and chips must be eaten as soon as possible. Reheating them in a microwave is a bait-and-switch you’ll always regret. And while salt and vinegar are part of the tradition, vinegar is best added at home. It has a way of chipping away at crispness, especially the fish. When it comes to batter, vinegar can smell a little… fishy.
The Fish Hook itself is as unpretentious as they come. It sits in a small, slightly tired shopping centre — the kind with a few shops below and flats above. The building could use some tender loving care, but when it comes to food, cheap décor is no bargaining chip. What matters is what lands on the plate.
Interestingly, right next door is Bert’s Butchery — another Darrenwood institution, largely run by women butchers — making this modest little centre something of a blue-chip destination for honest food. No hype, just substance.
The shop was previously owned by a friendly Chinese couple who emigrated to Canada to be closer to family. Clinton took over, and like anyone swimming with sharks in the food business, he’s had to weather mixed reviews. A glance at Google shows the usual spread: many loyal fans, a few unhappy customers, complaints about waiting times or service. When you run a takeaway day after day, letting the chips fall where they may is sometimes the only option.
We took our order home, where fish and chips truly belongs — wrapped not in newspaper, but in familiarity. Paired with a craft beer from Kaya Sands in Johannesburg — Agars, one of the city’s standouts — the meal hit exactly the right note. Comforting. Familiar. Satisfying. Fish and chips, after all, is culinary reassurance: a reminder that some things don’t need improving.
Comparisons between inland and coastal fish and chips are a slippery business. Coastal versions have their place and their loyal following. But when you’re inland — especially in Randburg — The Fish Hook holds its own. It may be tucked away, but it’s not a fish out of water.
If you’re passing through Darrenwood and craving something classic, it’s worth dropping a line. You might just reel in exactly what you’re looking for.
