Pajo’s!

Pajo's

What better thing to do on a brilliant sunny Sunday afternoon than to load your three little rugrats, your spouse, and your dog into a mammoth-sized SUV, drive down to Rocky Point Park, and share with your spouse what are arguably the best fish and chips in the city, blissfully ignoring your oldest child dragging your dog through the grass by its neck while the other two young ones slather strangers with orange dreamsicles and eat goose poop out of the grass?

Granted, if you’re not into the whole suburbanite SUV and coprophagic toddler scene, Pajo’s loses little of its magic: light, crispy fish fillets served atop a huge paper cone of fries, complete with picnic tables custom drilled holes in which to balance the cones of fried goodness. As you drizzle salt and vinegar over your fishy treat, you can bask in the warm sun over your head, smell the briny breeze blowing off the Burrard Inlet, and, of course, watch the toddlers picking up after the geese. If you’re so inclined.

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