Salt, Steam & Spirit: The Five-Generation Story of Knights Fish Restaurant
- Knights Fish & Chips Est 1909
- Apr 14
- 5 min read
Updated: 3 days ago
There’s something magical about the smell of chips frying, the sharp tang of vinegar in the air, and the gentle clatter of cutlery as a customer tucks in. Here in Glastonbury, when you walk into Knights, you’re stepping into more than just a fish and chip shop — you’re entering 115 years of love, grit, tradition, and family.
My name is George, and I’m the proud fifth-generation manager of Knights Fish Restaurant. I grew up listening to stories, watching my family and grandparents give everything they had to this place. Now it’s my turn to keep the fire (or fryer!) burning.
The Beginning – A Woman & a New Concept
It all started in 1895. Elizabeth Hockey was frying fish from her home at 5 Northload Street. Back then, fish and chips were still a novelty. There was no name above the door, just the delightful smell of fried fish and a growing reputation. Across the street lived Louisa “Mary” Phillis, my great-great-grandmother, who began working with Elizabeth and later took over the business in 1909.
Mary passed the reins to her daughter Louie, who married Frank Knight. Just like that, Knights was born. Louie was famous for her handmade faggots. People would stand in line with their china dishes to stock up. This tradition might seem quaint today, but back then, it was a lifeline for hungry families.
However, it wasn’t just about the food. Louie was a woman of warmth and kindness. Young customers — now in their 80s and 90s — still tell me how she used to slip them a bag of scrumps (or scraps, or gribbles, depending on where you're from) if they had no money. I’ve had grown men get misty-eyed telling me how, as little kids, they’d peel potatoes or clean up just to feel part of the magic. That kind of generosity sticks with you. It becomes part of who you are.
Through War and Hard Times – The Strength of Family
During the war, fish and chips weren’t just popular — they were essential. Unrationed, hot, and filling, they provided comfort during tough times. My grandfather, William Knight, remembered it vividly: soldiers lining up in uniform, the coal-fired range roaring, and him as a small boy, falling asleep in a cupboard on a stack of newspapers used for wrapping.
Back then, there was no modern machinery. Everything was done by hand. Chipping potatoes, skinning fish, lighting the coal range, scrubbing the floors — there was no stainless steel, no timers, no fryers that beep. Just sheer manual labor. I often think about the hours they worked, the physical labour, and the aching hands. I honestly don’t know how they managed. But they did, and they built something that still stands today.
Over the decades, Knights has faced many challenges — wars, depressions, recessions, power cuts, food shortages, and even a pandemic. But we survived, not because we were lucky, but because we were stubborn. We cared too much to give up.
The Call That Broke Us All
When we won the 2024 National Fish and Chip Restaurant of the Year award — a dream we had quietly carried for years — the very first thing Mum and I did was call my grandfather. He was in the hospital, very unwell, and we weren’t sure if he’d answer.
My aunt picked up the phone. Her eyes were already full of tears as she switched it to video. “You need to tell him,” she said. She passed the phone to Grandad. Mum took a breath, her voice shaking. “Dad… we did it. We won.”
His bottom lip started trembling. Then, with the smallest, softest voice, he said, “I’m so proud of you both.”
This was from a man who rarely spoke his feelings. He gave a quiet kind of love — always steady, always there, but never loud. That moment… I’ll never forget it. We were all crying. All five generations in that one second — everything we had worked for, everything he had built, everything he had taught us — it all resonated in that trembling voice. He’s gone now, and some days feel unbearable. But that moment — seeing his lip tremble, hearing him say he was proud — it’s seared into me. It broke me and healed me all at once. I cling to it. I’d trade the world just to hear him say it again.
Homemade, Heartmade
At Knights, we’ve always done things the hard way. And the hard way is the right way. We still make our fishcakes by hand every morning. Our tartare sauce is mixed fresh with chopped herbs, pickles, and care. We hand-cut our onion rings, making them fresh, crispy, and golden. We don’t believe in shortcuts; we believe in flavor. We believe in honesty.
We offer a wide selection of responsibly sourced fresh fish — not just cod and haddock, but also plaice, lemon sole, hake, whiting, saithe, monkfish, and more. We’re proud to support the British fishing industry while celebrating our seas' incredible diversity. We work closely with our suppliers to ensure sustainability, helping to protect the waters that have fed us for over a century.
Community Isn’t Just a Word — It’s Our Soul
We’ve donated meals to frontline workers, supported charities, sponsored school projects, and given back whenever we could. Our community has stood by us through world wars and lockdowns. The least we can do is stand by them, too.
One of my favorite moments is when an elderly couple walks in, points to a seat, and says, “That’s where I sat on my first date.” Or when a grandparent brings in a grandchild and says, “Let me show you where my mum brought me for chips.” That’s what makes it all worth it. Not just the awards. Not just the queues out the door. But those moments — those people — who carry our story in their hearts.
The Future is Family
We’ve invested in modern equipment, like our new Kiremko frying range. This innovation allows us to cook cleaner, faster, and more sustainably. We’ve expanded our menu to cater to dietary needs and food allergies. Plus, we’re training the sixth generation — teaching them that success isn’t just about sales; it’s about stories.
Some days, when the shop is quiet and the sun filters through the windows just right, I stop and listen. I like to imagine I can hear them — Mary, Louie, Frank, Bill — still working in the back, still peeling spuds, still laughing at something we’ve long forgotten. I whisper to them, We’re still here. We’re still cooking. We haven’t forgotten.
From Our Family to Yours ❤️
Knights isn’t just somewhere to grab a bite. It’s where memories live. It’s where love comes wrapped in paper — steaming, golden, and crafted by hands that remember.
Thank you for being part of our story. 115 years strong, and every moment has meant the world. Here's to the next 115 — with heart, with history, and with you.
—Written by George Morey, fifth-generation Knight and current manager of Knights Fish Restaurant
That was beautifully written George, it actually made me cry.