British cuisine is a wonderful thing. And where better to experience this dietary delight than the fish and chip shop - there's one on every corner, with its vat of bubbling grease filled with various offcuts of animals. From the 'standard' fish supper, a mere blob of protein in a mass of batter, through to the sausages (probably best not to ask) and meat pies - not any particular meat, just general meatiness. And don't even ask what's in a mock chop.
Of course, it wouldn't be the same without a portion of chips. Soggy, pale lumps, for the most part, disintegrated under a slop of vinegar. A few good hearty shakes of salt, and your meal is complete. Looking at it, you can feel your arteries trying to escape. It's a heart problem wrapped in paper.
Everything served in a fish and chip shop can be deep fried. Take the Glasgow delicacy, a Mars bar supper. Take one Mars bar, cover it in batter, and toss it in the boiling oil, to make it just that wee bit more unhealthy. It doesn't end with the Mars bar, either. Soon after word of this regional dish reached the ears of the other chippy owners, people were falling over themselves to produce confectionery suppers - Snickers, Lion bar, you name it. You can even find an Opal Fruit supper - each sweet individually dipped in batter and fried.
So what's the problem? It tastes so good! There is nothing like a fish and chip supper on the way home from the pub, or for when you can't be bothered to cook on a Friday night. It's not the same since they stopped wrapping up the fish and chips in newspapers, though - at least then you could read the obituary columns of other fish and chip consumers as you ate.