The Fish and Chips Conundrum
October 18, 2010 1 Comment
Something’s going on with fish and chips in this country, and it ain’t right. It’s right up there with beans in chili in my book (which is lengthy and likely to be scary to those who don’t know me, and even scarier to those who do).
I remember ordering fish and chips and getting what amounted to fish fingers — four or five lovingly breaded and deep-fried pieces of fish that were perfect for picking up and dunking into your tartar sauce. I didn’t care what the chips looked like, but give me those easily manageable chunks of fish and I was a happy camper.
But the last couple of times I’ve had fish and chips, I’ve just gotten this great big ungainly deep-fried fish fillet. Probably the same damn fillet I’d have gotten if I’d ordered the fish sandwich, or the seafood platter. So now I’ve either got to sit there holding this hand-sized piece of fish as I chew on it like a grizzly, or, even worse, use utensils on what’s supposed to be finger food. And the damn thing just won’t fit into a dip cup to save its life. I’m sure there’s money involved. I’m sure it’s cheaper to get a big bag of frozen battered fish fillets than ones that are cut up and formed into more efficient shapes. But where is joy? Where is happiness? Not in my fish and chips.
So now I wander from restaurant to restaurant, wondering, should I dare order the fish and chips, if I’ll get my beloved pieces of fish or just half a fried cod on a plate. And I’m getting gun-shy. I’ll see fish and chips on a menu and start to fidget nervously, debating over asking how the fish comes out and looking like a snob, or just giving up and getting a burger. Those will always be round, won’t they?