One fish, two fish.

The Cranleigh fish shop.

I paused outside the window today and watched the light catch the silver skins of the fish laid carefully on ice. Fresh fillets, prawns, salmon, all arranged with such care that you know the people inside take pride in what they do.

It made me smile.

Independent fishmongers are becoming rare now. Many high streets have lost them to supermarkets and convenience food. Yet here in Cranleigh we still have Cranleigh Fish, quietly serving the village as it has done for around thirty eight years.

Fish in Cranleigh has always been more than simply something for supper.

It is part of the rhythm of village life.

People wander in, often bumping into someone they know. A quick chat about the weather, the weekend plans, perhaps a little village gossip whispered between choosing haddock or salmon. Someone mentions what they are cooking tonight, another asks how to prepare sea bass. The conversation flows as naturally as the tide.

And quite often, once the fish is chosen and wrapped, the next stop is just along the High Street to the butcher.

Fish for Friday.

Meat for Sunday.

A basket slowly filling with good food from shops that have served the village for generations.

The fish shop itself has always been a family affair. Originally run by Steve Duffell’s father and uncle, the business is now owned and managed by Steve and his father together. As the shop became busier, Steve’s mother began helping too. With her friendly nature and easy conversation with customers, she soon became part of the team full time.

You notice that warmth the moment you step inside.

Advice is given freely.

Cooking ideas are shared.

And no one ever seems rushed.

Steve often says that being a fishmonger today means being a little bit of everything. A fishmonger, a chef and almost a marine biologist all in one. Over the years there has been so much more understanding about sustainability and caring for the oceans that the trade has had to evolve with it.

They even help customers who feel unsure about cooking fish, offering simple preparation tips and keeping cookery books in the shop for inspiration. There are also ready made dishes waiting for busy evenings. Fish pies, dressed salmon and oven ready meals that make supper easy.

Standing there today watching people come and go, it struck me how important shops like this are.

Not just for food.

But for community.

Because in Cranleigh, the fish shop is still one of those places where people meet, talk, share a little gossip, and feel part of village life before heading on to the butcher or bakery.

And long may that continue.

A Quiet Observer xx