[The Chippy Challenge: to eat more fish and chips in 2014; see original post for details.]
Sides: chips, grease
I placed my order at the chippy with 15 minutes till my bus and planned to wolf it down while waiting at the stop. Five minutes after I watched the bus pull away I asked one of the others in the smelly lobby, “how far is the river from here?” “Pardon?”
“Do they have to travel far to collect the fish?”
“Oh, you should really call in. The service here is dreadful.”
Eventually, the little scuffer woman emerged with an oily bundle of paper and thrust it at me without asking whether — or how much — salt and vinegar I would like. Not to worry, there was far too much salt balanced by far to little vinegar (vinegar at homeopathic proportions). The batter was thicker than the fish and drowning in fat. Inexcusable.
With nearly an hour until the next bus, at least I could savour this treat. I took it to the nearby churchyard and sat with a local kitty who turned up his nose at my offer to share.