potatoes


WHAT is so damned special about fish and chips? The question has to be asked after again foolishly succumbing to the fiction that a chunk of lukewarm battered cod and a heap of pale limp would-be chips is the food of the gods. An endlessly desirable feast for a nation. A national treasure even. Allegedly the very thing needed yesterday when worn and weary from intense activity and a tiring journey home; having to cope  with scant resources in cupboards or fridge, and with no desire or energy to cook for myself. Hence one more ill-advised and foolhardy sortie was… Continue reading