Oeno Maris isn’t really like other fishmongers. When Danny Murphy set out to open his own place he made sure it wouldn’t be. After managing Broadway Market’s Fin and Flounder for eight years and working at Chelsea’s The Sea The Sea, he wanted to do something on his own terms. “The plan was to open a master fishmongers where I would use my knowledge to teach other people, whether that be members of the public, chefs, whoever wanted a go and it's kind of evolved into this,” explains Danny, gesturing at the cool and crisp surrounding of Oeno Maris, which he opened with his wife Sarah last year.
Drawing on both of their experiences and a shared love of restaurants, the couple have created a space that feels as much fine dining as traditional fish mongery. Set in the plush foodie surroundings of Newington Green, they felt confident enough to break with most of the conventions of more old school fish shops. Stark dark walls are punctured by spotlights where whole skate stare up at you from gleaming ice, and small schools of lemon soles swim across the counter in a scene that wouldn’t look out of place at The Saatchi Gallery.
The concept is a marriage between wine and fish, Oeno being latin for wine and Maris for the sea. It brings together the twin passions of Danny and Sarah, a philosophy of “sourcing with a conscience and preparing with excellence” that is as prevalent with a low intervention wine as a wild salmon. The shop itself is a cavernous space, offering wine and oysters on the patio on sunny days, as well an area at the back where they host tastings and events.
There are plans to further expand the business and develop the space, although that comes with its own challenges, mainly manpower. Finding people wanting to get into the fish trade can be a challenge. Danny runs the sizeable shop on his own, slicing, weighing and advising anyone that comes through the door. He describes searching for staff as “either full on or it doesn’t exist at all. It's hard work trying to get staff, in hospitality it’s a bit more exciting and sexy and you might open something small like a food truck and grow it. As a fishmonger it is hard to create that bit of excitement because the first thing you normally think of is ‘ugh smelly fish’ - it hasn’t got that sex appeal.” Danny’s working to change that perception, creating something that’s more of a hybrid, and more exciting, than its more traditional predecessors.
Walk in on a normal day and you can have half a dozen oysters, washed down with a glass of natural white wine, while you wait for your fillet. Whilst the space might look high end the old school sense of community hasn’t been lost, Danny is incredibly passionate about connecting with the people that walk through the door and making sure they get something that keeps them coming back. “The customer service bit is great, having a one on one rapport with the customers,” he says. “You get into food because you’re eating it, cooking, experimenting, seeing something and trying it out. People might suggest something you’ve never thought about, that’s a great part of the job”.
Dealing with customers can also have its challenges, even just trying to convey that there’s seasonality in fish can be quite a foreign concept. “Seasonality is a big thing, we’re so used to getting things all year round,” Danny adds. “With fish it’s the same, mackerel’s not in season now but sardines are, it’s about switching over and enjoying the seasonality and variety. It’s such a pleasure to have something right at its best and getting to try new things.”
It’s an important part of shopping somewhere like Oeno Maris that can be easy to overlook: being guided to something you might otherwise have forgotten about or introduced to something entirely new. Danny’s philosophy is one that prioritises sending the customer home with the right thing, at the peak of its season, and then having that customer come back every week, learning more and more about the produce on offer.
Having a rapport with the customers and helping to close an educational gap is essential in an industry often battling misinformation. “I find it quite frustrating,'' explains Danny. “As an industry we need to focus more on what’s good for us instead of talking about what we shouldn’t be doing. You never hear on the news ‘oh there’s this Scottish salmon farm or there’s a sea bream farmer in Cannes that’s doing really well’. All we’re hearing about is the very negative end of things and it’s given farming a terrible reputation. I support some great farms, respectable sources, there’s no antibiotics, they aren’t force fed, there’s love and care that goes into it.”
Equally, explains Danny, wild fish has a romantic image but it can be difficult. “I don’t want to make it sound like wild fish is bad but it can be tough,” he continues “when the weather is stormy you end up with a massive influx of bigger fish, the storm washes up the mud and sand and creates clouds so the smaller fish can’t see. The bigger fish eat them all, really gorge themselves. That means the big fish all have bellies full of other fish and are often still digesting them, making a lot of the meat no good.” Farmed fish can also be allowed to go through their natural cycles like they would in the wild. “A few weeks ago all the bass were full of eggs, the farmed and wild were both coming through with eggs so they’re still going through their cycles naturally.”
Danny’s enthusiasm for what he does is infectious, as we chat Sarah brings over a can of tinned sardines, one of several types he stocks in the shop. “They have a saying in the industry about tinned fish ‘you pack them in like soldiers, they come marching out like soldiers’”, he says. You can see how much care is taken with these, they’re gorgeous.” It’s another example of perception and reality being eroded over the years. It’s easy to poke fun at a tin of fish being eight or nine pounds but most of the canneries are located next to the fishing ports, meaning fish come straight out of the sea and into a can. “Tinned fish needs to come back and be a thing, instead of spending £3.99 on a tin of John West, come in here and have something nice that’s been done properly. In Spain and Portugal they pride themselves on it, it’s like a religion in those places.”
Danny pauses, savouring the taste of the tinned mussel he’s just popped in his mouth, he looks around the shop and breaks into a broad smile. “as my old boss used to say, ‘it’s like a mermaid dancing on your tongue’”.
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