Friday at six is not the moment to discover your fish supper is underpriced. By then the batter is mixed, the fryers are up to temperature and there are fourteen tickets on the rail. Portion cost is a decision you make at the prep bench on a quiet Tuesday, with a set of scales and a calculator — not in the middle of a rush.
Most shops have a decent idea what they pay for a box of fish. Far fewer know what a single portion costs once trimming, batter, oil, chips and packaging are added in. That gap is where gross profit leaks away, a few pence at a time, hundreds of suppers a week.
The price on the delivery note is not the price of your fish. What matters is the cost per usable kilo — after trimming, after the ragged ends, after the bits that go in the bin or into fish cakes.
Say one supplier quotes £10 per kilo and you lose a fifth of it to trim. Your usable cost is £10 ÷ 0.80, so £12.50 per kilo. Another supplier quotes £11 per kilo but trims clean, losing only eight per cent. That works out at £11.96 per usable kilo. The cheaper invoice is the dearer fish. Run this comparison properly at least once a year, and again whenever a supplier changes.
Every portion is made of five separate costs, and each one deserves its own line in your costing sheet:
Anything else that leaves the counter — mushy peas, curry sauce, a can of pop — should be costed as its own line and never buried in the fish price.
Here is the method, step by step. Swap in your own invoice figures; the arithmetic stays the same.
Add those up and your plate cost is £2.70. That figure is your foundation. Everything else — energy, wages, rent, card fees — comes out of what is left after the ingredients.
The price on the board is a promise. The grams on the scale decide whether you keep it profitably.
Oil is not a fixed overhead you can shrug at. It is a variable cost per portion, and it moves the moment your frying practice changes.
Change the oil early because it is darkening and your cost per portion climbs. Stretch it too far and the fish tastes of last night's scampi, the batter browns too fast and customers notice. Find the sweet spot and write it down: how many portions per change, per fryer, on a normal week. Then re-check it when you change batter recipe or add a new fried line.
You need one more decision before you can price anything: what share of the selling price should ingredients take? Set your own target based on your rent, wages and energy bills, then do the division.
If you are VAT-registered, the price on the board includes VAT, so work from the net figure. At a 20% rate, a £9.00 board price leaves £7.50 of net revenue — which pushes your ingredient share up to 36%. Hot takeaway food is standard-rated in the UK, but the rules have awkward corners, so confirm your own position with your accountant rather than guessing.
Then sanity-check the result against your local market. If your maths says £11 and every shop on the parade charges £8, you have a problem to solve — smaller portions, a cheaper cut, a different supplier, or a better story about quality. What you must not do is price off the competition and hope the margins sort themselves out.
A costing done once is a snapshot, not a system. Prices move, yields drift, and a new fryer cooks differently from the old one.
Do this and the fish supper stops being a guess. You will know, to the penny, what leaves the fryer and what stays in the till — which is the only way to argue about price with a clear head.
Photo: makafood / Pexels