When Chippy’s came along a few years back, sending ripples of haughtiness through the greasy waters of Hogtown’s fish-and-chip scene, the first question that leapt to mind was, “Do we really need to go here?”

I mean, besides a few tweaks here and there (frying in a lighter oil rather than trans-fat laden blocks of lard, for example, or offering a wider array of fried treats to eat), what exactly about the concept of fish ’n’ chips needed improving? You got your fish, you got your batter, you got your molten oil and bam — Charlie’s your step-uncle. No fuss, no muss, no fancy-pants white coat (or Susur Lee training) required. Why go around aggrandizing the whole thing? (Then again, in a city where people have begun “cupping” their coffee, swirling the dark liquid about their palates in search of blackberry hints and dark-­chocolate notes, perhaps this is a silly question.)

A couple of recent visits to Deep Blue Fish & Chips at Broadview and Danforth, though, have me rethinking my original position. Owners Gary Conlin and Robert Joseph (both corporate chefs in past lives) have upped the ante in Toronto’s gourmet fish wars with this 11-month old chipper joint, providing not only the usual hoity-toity suspects such as corn-meal battered scallops ($9.95, served with chips) and salmon ($8.95, in tarragon, dill and basil batter), but a slew of unique coatings as well.

A jerk-battered fillet of cod ($8.25), served with crisp sweet potato fries, for example, adds a bit of island flavour to your traditional fry-up, with a deep-brown crust that crunches with subtle heat.

If blast-furnace intensity is what you fancy, the Cajun corn haddock ($8.25), tricked out in a crackling sambal and paprika–spiked masa batter, and served with lightning hot spicy fries, will happily oblige.

My personal fave, however, is the six-spice mélange surrounding the plump and juicy Malaysian-style shrimp ($9.95): a rich, chocolate-hued, cookie-crisp coating redolent with allspice that fuses gorgeously with the mango vinaigrette served with it for dipping. And then, of course, there’s the halibut ($9.50): a thick, moist hunk of surprisingly greaseless heaven wrapped up in a blanket of light, English-style batter and sided with crispy frites and a tartar sauce worth hating yourself in the morning for.

What really makes Deep Blue shine, though, is the attention they pay to the little details. Tailor-made sides, like Creole salsa, apple and celery root coleslaw or mango-­ginger relish ensure a perfect match for whichever radical departure from the norm you choose to take. (And given that mixing and matching fish, batters and sides isn’t discouraged, you can let yourself go as crazy as you want.)

Even the salads, where you may expect a drop-off in creativity, are well thought out, like the garden salad ($4.50), which comes peppered with baby corn and grilled asparagus. In fact, of all the items we try, only the crab cake sandwich ($8.25) fails to achieve greatness: a mondo-sized, shattering crisp patty loaded with luscious, saline-free meat and slathered in creamy red-pepper aioli would be awesome on its own. But the sesame hamburger bun it’s stuffed into manages to overpower the subtle flavours involved, deadening the taste sensation (and our satisfaction) slightly. Don’t get me wrong, it’s still good. Just not, you know, super-good.
Given the quality and consistency of the product here, a little nose-in-the-air action actually wouldn’t seem all that inappropriate. But the friendly, laid-back attitude of staff, along with the paper-lined wicker baskets in which everything comes delivered, keeps the snobbery level at a minimum. Sure, the fish is stacked neatly on display for your perusal, and sometimes you have to wait until mid-afternoon for the scallops to arrive. And, yes — both Joseph and Conlin own monogrammed chef’s coats. But it’s still just what it is: a damn fine chipper.