Fried food isn’t good for you. I know this, you know this, we all know this, but isn’t it hard to resist?
My weekly ration usually come from the traditional chip shop. Fish, steak and kidney pudding, meat balls, all with chips, plus side dishes of mushy peas, gravy or mild curry as appropriate. Read more ›››
I don’t have a lot of time for Bernie Ecclestone as a rule. I like to think it’s because he is rich and brash, a bully and a midget who looks silly alongside girlfriends who are a foot taller and fifty years younger than him. But I suspect that it’s jealousy pure and simple.
I had to laugh though at the latest example of Ecclestone churlishness. He paid £1.7 million for the Swag and Tails pub in Knightsbridge that used to be his local and gave it to his daughter, Tamara, who had planned to expand it. Read more ›››
Fish and chips were a bit of a treat when I was a lad. Maybe once a week I was sent to Pearson’s chippie with a deep dish to collect the family’s meal, getting a bag of batter scraps to eat on the way home as a reward.
As I grew older, this great delicacy came wrapped in old newspapers that soaked up the grease and vinegar and made a special scrunching sound when screwed up after you’d finished, the sound of the remains of the salt scratching against the paper. Read more ›››
So George Bush experienced fish, chips and mushy peas while visiting the Dun Cow in Tony Blair’s Sedgefield constituency. Now while we like to think that it is great to introduce visiting Americans and others to one of our national dishes, it may just be that they’ve tried it before. Take Ye Olde English Fish N Chip Shoppe in Maine. Either it is patronised by nostalgic ex-pats, or there really is a market out there. Read more ›››