Author: Jack Wooster

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.

Tears stream down my face. “Who’s cutting onions?” asks Andrew.

We were at Monisha Bharadwaj’s house. Upon arrival I saw how pretty it was, with a beautiful garden with a pond in the front. The interior was covered in art from India, and the place smelled of spices. Despite the charm, I was a little uneasy about the upcoming lesson. We had to cook Indian food, and I’m not good at cooking. I also worried, as my friend Manav’s food was always really spicy, and I couldn’t handle it.

She sat us down around the table. Before we were to work, she wanted to explain to us some of the key differences between what we’d be making, and Indian food in the UK. 

According to her, Indian food in the UK is a very different cuisine, known as British Indian Restaurant cuisine (BIR). It had originated when Bengali sailors, forced to work on British ships, had gotten stuck in the UK. When they built businesses they needed to attract Englishmen. They created a system known as hot-hotter-hottest, in order to make the food more appealing. This made the food seem challenging, and drunk Brits would push their spice limits. They even began to use curry powder, which was a random hodgepodge of spices, rather than the purposeful use of spices in India. Certain dishes became famous. Such as vindaloo, which isn’t something one would find in India, or the name Chicken Tikka Masala, which, technically, could refer to hundreds of dishes in India, but Brits use it to refer to a single dish.

Real Indian food, she explained, needed three things only, carbs, proteins, and fibers. The reason for this, that I could glean, was that it was extremely healthy. People could eat this twice a day and live perfectly healthy lives. For example, we made five easy recipes. I’ll list three, Pulau, the rice, Chana Masala, which had chickpeas, Murgh ka Korma, which had chicken and cashews. With those three you have the carbs from all three, the fiber from all three, and proteins in Chana Masala and Murgh ka Korma. A perfect meal.

The cooking itself was quite quick and easy, except for the onions, which burned my eyes the entire time. It was just a simple process of being patient and knowing how and when to use the spices.

Upon completing the cooking, we sat down to eat. I took a bite. The chicken tasted good, I particularly noticed the cumin, so I swallowed it. Taking a bite of the chickpeas, I wasn’t a big fan. The sauce just wasn’t for me, which was interesting, as it was made with mostly the same ingredients as the chicken. I enjoyed the peas and the rice a lot, with the peas still being rather sweet. In fact, I was surprised at just how much flavor was in the food. Mostly when I have spice, all I feel is heat, but the heat seemed to be more complementary, then overwhelming.

Overall, it was an interesting experience, and one I would recommend anyone try. And besides, you get a cookbook at the end to replicate the recipes for yourself.