If anywhere can do fish properly, it is a restaurant with its own fishmongers, such as Fish Shop in the village of Ballater, to the east of the Cairngorms in Aberdeenshire. Simply the fact that you can see gloriously fresh Scottish day-boat fish in the adjoining shop window is reassuring. Friends of this column will know my thoughts on speciality seafood restaurants, and I am weary of fishy tales dreamed up by marketeers, promising “locally sourced” swimming things cooked by allegedly highly trained poissoniers. I’ll translate: “We will lug some Honduran prawns out of the deep-freeze and serve them with mayo mixed with ketchup. Please overlook the decor, which comprises shelfloads of nautical tat from Dunelm.” Fish restaurants don’t have to be beside the sea, and I don’t care if they’re metropolitan, either. What matters is the sourcing and the staff’s knowledge of their goods. At the Fish Shop counter that morning, they had Peterhead halibut, Scrabster monkfish, Cape Wrath oysters, Shetland plaice fillets and various seaweeds. Fish Shop will not cook you tuna, or sink to serving warm-water prawns, and even the tinned fish is sourced in the UK. In fact, they don’t even serve fish and chips, so as not to upset the local chippy. Jasmine Sherry, who runs the front of house, is originally from Australia, but now has a vague hint of the Highlands in her lovely accent that will guide you passionately through every fin, flame and garnish. Chef Marcus Sherry, her husband, is behind the stoves in the semi-open kitchen, whipping up gorgeous bowls of Stonehaven lobster taglierini with a kick of chilli and a base note of chervil, which has become, for completely understandable reasons, a signature dish. It is a creamy bowl of fresh, al dente pasta that’s heavy with lobster meat and packs a punchy heat. As I ate it, I remembered rumours I’d heard that Fish Shop has become so loved locally that even its owner can no longer just drop by for a table. That must mainly be down to this pasta, I thought. Mind you, I’m sure the whole plaice shoved on a hibachi grill and served with lush, green samphire is a pretty big draw, too. Even when Fish Shop does meaty, with its coarsely cut Highland beef tartare with smoked oyster mayo, or vegetarian, with its wild nettle gnocchi with charred spring onion, it is all thoughtfully done and erring on the decadent. The place is modern, elegant and cool, but not painfully so. Don’t dress up too much or worry that they’ll sneer if you don’t order the priciest plonk. The decor, meanwhile, is a delight: this is a venture by the hospitality team at Artfarm, which is also behind the The Fife Arms in nearby Braemar, to my mind one of the most beautiful hotels in the UK. If anyone can “stage” a restaurant, it is these people. Here, everything is pre-loved, sustainable, repurposed; the curtains are made from undyed Scottish linen, the dining chairs handcrafted; my table was made from recycled yoghurt pots and the bar-top is recycled beer glasses. It is all tastefully lit, too, with snug banquettes and low-carbon leather bar stools; when booking, try to get the larger table at the back, which has an actual boat perched underneath it. This little boat was pulled for many years behind a bigger fishing boat around Ardnamurchan Point, but now you can sit beside her as she lives out her dotage, all while enjoying a bowl of Shetland mussels with east coast cured ’nduja, or perhaps some of that Scrabster monkfish tail with cauliflower and pine nuts. It would be remiss not to try the partan bree, a dreamy, creamy chowder made with Macduff crab (partan being Gaelic and Scots for crab). That said, if crab is your true love, you have to order the Macduff brown crab crumpets, which are small, heavily stacked, punchy, buttery chunks of happiness. As you eat them, take in the pretty shoal of 133 basket-woven fish that swim over the ceiling, made by local artist Helen Jackson. On the dessert menu they had bread-and-butter pudding with creme fraiche, a Clava brie on malt loaf, rhubarb from Braemar with warm madeleines and ice-cream and a Glen Tanar damson jam tart. And at lunch, they offer a three-course set menu for £24, which by today’s standards sounds quite astoundingly cheap: smoked mackerel paté, Saithe tail chop, then bread-and-butter pudding for less than 25 quid?! Wonderful, heartwarming places such as Fish Shop are a rarer sight than mermaids’ feet these days. If you’re ever in the area, go. Fish Shop 3 Netherley Place, Ballater, Aberdeenshire, Scotland, 01339 720250. Open Weds-Sun (and bank holiday Mon), lunch noon-3pm, dinner 6pm-late. From about £35 a head for three courses à la carte; set lunch £19.50 for two courses, £24 for three, all plus drinks and service The sixth episode in the new series of Grace Dent’s Comfort Eating podcast goes live on Tuesday 7 November. Listen to it here. Her new book of the same name is published by Guardian Faber at £20; to order a copy for £17, visit guardianbookshop.com