Our enduring national love affair with the humble yet heroic pairing of fish and chips is evident in the numbers.

According to the National Federation of Fish Friers, a whopping 382,000,000 meals are bought from the UK’s chippies each year, with a staggering £1.2 billion spent on fish and chips annually.

The true origins of the national dish may be lost in the mists of time, but there’s no doubt that as a nation we’re still immensely fond of a fish supper – whether gobbled down in front of the box at home or savoured during a trip to the seaside.

But despite its enduring popularity and status as a national icon, the chippy tea is a tradition under threat.

Rampant inflation and an ongoing cost-of-living crisis have combined to push many fish-and-chip firms to the brink.

The energy needed to keep those fryers bubbling away day and night costs an awful lot, and with prices of raw ingredients also increasing it is tough to maintain the dish’s place as an affordable treat.

The price for the cheapest portion of cod and chips at my local chippy has now passed the £11 mark, that double-figure price tag definitely having a psychological effect when in my youth I reckon the meal would have cost about half that.

All of which is my rather long-winded way of saying that these days I am more likely to consider fish and chips an occasional treat rather than a staple takeaway option.

I am also more likely to opt to pay a little more to dine in rather than plonking myself down on a bench and picking at my meal with a wooden fork.

Arriving at The Pilot Inn, in Lydd-on-Sea, on the Marsh, on a sunny, if not a little blustery, afternoon it seems I am far from alone in my quest for fish and chips.

The place is buzzing, and staff – all dressed in matching black uniforms – rush back and forth ferrying plates absolutely stacked with fishy goodness to tables throughout the extensive dining rooms.

Although still effectively a pub, today the Pilot is very much about the food, particularly what a sign on the exterior of the building declares as ‘the finest fish and chips in all England’.

Some boast given the millions upon millions of portions served up across the country every week.

The lunchtime rush has subsided a little by the time I arrive, which means there’s no waiting about.

I am straight up to the counter with a very straightforward order: medium cod and chips with mushy peas (£16.50) and a Coke.

I retire to my table and, in a move which may seem a little back to front, take a moment to glance over the menu.

Front and centre are the classic fish and chip dishes, but there are plenty of other options if that’s not floating your boat, including sandwiches, steaks, pies and burgers.

There are also daily specials, with moules frites evidently proving popular on the day of my visit, sold out by mid-afternoon.

Not even 10 minutes since my order was taken, and my lunch is in front of me.

This isn’t my first visit to the Pilot, so I knew to expect a big old plate of food, but I am still taken aback by what is billed as a medium portion.

There’s a hefty piece of battered cod, a great mound of chips, and a helping of mushy peas which is barely constrained by the lip of the dish.

I have no idea how anyone tucks away the large serving, but you have my admiration nonetheless.

The first thing my knife and fork touch is the cod, piercing the crisp, light batter and revealing the steaming, moist fillet of fish within. It’s a pretty perfect bite, followed by another, then another.

When it comes to quantity, I have no complaints about the chips, lovely thick-cut examples of the classic chip shop chip.

My only quibble would be the crispy crunch, or lack thereof. Hotter oil? Longer in the fryer? Who knows, but this is the only part of the dish I would mark down slightly, but then again it’s probably just a personal preference.

In the end, however, I am slightly ashamed to admit I’m ultimately defeated by the sheer scale of this substantial meal masquerading as a medium.

I’ve polished off every last flake of the cod, but there’s no way I’m getting through every last chip and mouthful of batter.

Not the slightest comment on the quality of the food, simply a reflection on my capacity to put it away. If your appetite tends to the lighter end of the spectrum, steer well clear of the largest portions.

As for the claim to be the finest fish and chips in the land, who really knows.

I am sure we could find the comments below this review awash with hundreds of contradictory suggestions for the best in Kent, let alone England.

But it’s a delicious lunch, served by a happy crew in a lovely spot by the English Channel. And who could really ask for more on a sunny summer’s afternoon.

Ratings out of five

Food: Classic fish and chips served in truly hearty portions by a kitchen that is turning out hundreds of meals each day, this is pub grub that really can’t go wrong ****

Drink: My Coca-Cola was cold, refreshing and typically steeply-priced ***

Decor: I am not usually one for pubs festooned with quirky knick-knacks, but for some reason it really works in this setting ***

Staff: Universally welcoming and doing a fine job to keep so many people fed ****

Price: In the context of neighbourhood chippies charging well upwards of £10 for cod and chips, you can’t argue with these prices in a restaurant setting ****