Salt, lemon, potato, haddock, bread. The most heavenly food a man could ask for.
The last time I visited Scotland in the winter of 2023-2024 I ate fish and chips at every single opportunity I could get. Fish, especially white fish, is my favorite meat. And I eat potatoes with every meal, it’s a match made in heaven.
Yet this time, I made myself wait. I knew I had to write this blog, so I couldn’t just dive straight into the meal. I needed to build the want, the need, so that that first bite would be absolute perfection.
I woke up at 8am on the 12th of July ready. I could feel the fish ahead of me, calling to me. I had forgotten to do the readings about the history of fish and chips, so I read it then.
Fish and chips originated as a working class meal in the late 1800s. Poorer Britons would eat it once a week for a couple reasons. One reason was that it meant that the wives/women didn’t have to cook a meal that day, as you bought it from a fish and chips shop. They’d send off the kids, and they’d have a free evening to relax or accomplish work they hadn’t yet. Another reason was that it was a great source of protein and essential minerals such as omegas which, according to Professor Schen, are found aplenty in cold white fish. And the chips were full of fiber and minerals, with the minerals mostly concentrated in the skin.
Interestingly, this meal, as it was originally from the poor, was looked down upon by the aristocracy. They rejected the meal, but eventually succumbed to it, as who can resist fish and potatoes?
I finished the reading, a hunger growing within me. On the one and a half hour bus ride to Anstruther, I felt my stomach clawing at me. A side effect of not having eaten breakfast. I stepped off the bus, ready to rush to my meal, only to remember we had to visit the Scottish Fisheries Museum beforehand.
It was an interesting museum, as it told the history of the fishing industry in Scotland. I particularly appreciated the early sections discussing the making of dugout canoes, as I find old ships and ways of travel fascinating. But throughout the tour all I could think of was the fish. How flaky would the breading be, would it be oversalted, would there be a proper fish to chips ratio? These are the questions that haunted the mind of a starved man.
We finished the tour, and walked down the street to Anstruther Fish Bar, an award winning restaurant that served fish and chips. I ordered one and sat down, my stomach growling. The seconds turned to minutes, minutes to hours. Eventually it came out, the beautiful brown and gold. My mouth watered as our waitress placed the food in front of me.
I took the lemon and drizzled it on the fish, and I took a bite. Heaven indeed.
