2024
Straight after school we headed for the fish shop opposite the station. One or two would stay with our bags at the bus stop while the rest of us went to get the chips. They would be sitting in a pile to one side of the deep fryer pale oblongs of varying sizes. We ordered. Whoever was behind the counter would slouch towards the chips, collect a heap in a metal basket – if that’s the right word for something that was like a small cage with one side open – drop the basket into the hot oil, handle balanced out of the deep fryer. A few minutes later the doneness of the chips was checked by lifting the basket and giving it a good shake. Back into the oil it would go for a couple of minutes more. Meanwhile the staff would have got a couple of sheets of butcher’s paper – so called because it was also used by butcher to wrap the meat you bought sprig of parsley for garnish and all – and flattened the sheets out on a counter next to the deep fryers.
