What a battering!

Fat in the middle - pointed at both ends.

 

You know what it's like.  You get to Friday night and you think...can't be bothered to cook.

At this point you'll be expecting me to say I slipped into my walk-in fridge and just rustled up a simple scallop salad with impeccable dressing.  No.  I slipped into the chippie instead. 

Foolishly I admitted on Her Majesty's Facebook to this fact last night and was virtually flogged. Came as a shock, to be fair.

"Hang your head in shame...in shame!" spat one correspondent. This from a writer I had, to this point, considered a chum. Look, I'm not a chef, a cook or any of those technical terms.  I was just flippin' hungry and needed a pitstop with limited energy and time.  I've even heard Jamie on one of his 30 Minute jobs admit to mid-week, peeling open a tin of custard instead of caressing a vanilla pod.

I live on the east coast of England, the capital of fish and chip shops.  The lure is ever-present. My chip shop proprietor knows me by name, he says "Hi Mike" when I walk in.  It's comfy.  Other parts of the nation are not so well-equipped.   I went with a friend into their local in Southampton where fish was a battered rectangle.  We debated with the owner long into the night that fish shop fish should be fat in the middle and pointed at both ends.  We lost the debate.

I've been asked for more recipies on here and I 'll do that, probably next.  I just thought I would issue this public awareness note of caution about 'cooking types' using takeaways and stupidly admitting openly to it.

The next time you're in a chippie and a bloke walks in dressed in a loosely tied mac, dark glasses and a trilby at a rakish angle over his eyes, just say "Hi Mike."