Fish and Chips

Britain’s Answer to Gourmet Cuisine: Fish and Chips

Fish and chips. The national dish that says, "We once ruled half the world, but tonight we’re deep-frying haddock and pretending it’s the same thing." If you’ve ever wondered how to wrap a questionable life choice in yesterday’s newspaper, congratulations, you’re about to learn. Grab your cholesterol medication and let’s commit to this culinary crime together.

The Ingredients List

Because why make fish and chips easy, when you can make it slightly more complicated for comedic effect?

• White fish fillets: Cod, haddock, or whatever you can find that’s vaguely aquatic and not already endangered. 600g (or enough to feed your self-loathing).
• Potatoes: 4-6 large British spuds, ideally the kind that will survive a nuclear disaster. Peeled.
• Plain flour: 150g plus extra for dusting. Because that’s how you hide regret.
• Cornflour (cornstarch): 50g. Optional, if you want to feel fancy.
• Baking powder: 1 tsp. Or a bit more, if you like things unnecessarily bubbly.
• Salt & pepper: To taste, or to mask existential despair.
• Beer (cold, cheap): 200ml. Preferably undrinkable, so you won’t miss it.
• Sunflower oil: For frying and, let’s be honest, future therapy bills.

A Step-By-Step March Toward Grease Nirvana

1. Slice the potatoes into chips. If you want to be pretentious, call them "batons". If you don’t, just admit they’re fries and move on.
2. Rinse the chips in cold water. This allegedly removes starch. Not the guilt, though.
3. Parboil the spuds for 3-4 minutes. Perfectly balanced between raw and "just short of mashed."
4. Drain and pat dry like you care. Prepare for their ultimate destiny: a hot oil bath.
5. Prepare your fish. Pat fillets dry. Season with salt and pepper. Whisper apologies to the sea.
6. Combine flours, baking powder, and a pinch of salt. Stir in the beer until the batter looks like it could clog an artery by sight alone.
7. Heat the oil to 180°C (350°F). Or until your smoke alarm starts its shrill solo.
8. First fry the chips for 5 minutes. Remove, drain, and pretend you’re not going to eat them straight away.
9. Dip fish in extra flour, then the batter, then the oil. Fry until golden enough to be British teeth’s natural enemy.
10. Fry the chips again until crisp. Because double frying is what finally gives them meaning.

Serve with malt vinegar, tartar sauce, and a sneer at continental cuisine.

Tips, Variations and Other Ways to Ruin a Classic

• Fish: If you only have tilapia, go for it. The Queen won’t know.
• Chips: Crinkle-cut for rebels, shoestring for nihilists.
• Gluten-Free? Use gluten-free flour and beer. The disappointment is exactly the same.
• Add peas if you must. Just know you’ll die alone.
• Fry outdoors if you like friends.

Nutrition for the Brave (or Willfully Ignorant)

| Component | Per Serving (Approx.) | |---------------------|----------------------| | Calories | 830 | | Fat | 45g | | Carbs | 76g | | Protein | 28g | | Salt | 3g |

Yes, it’s more fat than your morning moisturizer and more salt than an internet comment section. But hey, who’s counting? Not the British government.

So, What Have We Learned?

That with enough oil and sarcasm, you can turn humble ingredients into a spiritual experience—or a culinary cautionary tale. Either way, try it at home. Or don’t. It’s your arteries.