After a roast, fish and chips is the nation’s most popular dish. And more than
any other, it shows how subjective perfection is. Fish and chips makes
foodies of us all; everyone has their preferences. Cod, haddock, or plaice?
Chunky, soggy chips the size of your fingers, or thinner, crispier ones?
Does it taste better from newspaper? The debate doesn’t stop there: whether
it’s accompanied by ketchup, mayonnaise, gravy or curry sauce probably
depends on where you grew up, but for me, fish and chips have to be doused
in Sarson’s malt vinegar.
For some people, fish and chips is a seaside memory — gulls squawking as they
hover in wait for leftovers; the sea’s briny tang mixing with the salt of
the chips. But I grew up in London, so I have a more urban take. On the way
home from work, Dad would pick up fish and chips from Micky’s Fish Bar in
Norfolk Place. On my birthday one year, I was given the money and allowed to
get them myself. I can vividly remember the brisk fizzing noise of the
fryer, the wonky menu board, the yellow glow emanating from the
glass-fronted warmers on the counter. I took the fish and chips home and we
ate them from the paper.
I always loved digging down to the bottom for the smaller bits that had
gradually settled there, the chunky shards of batter that had broken off
from the fish. That marvellous mix of textures has stayed with me: crisp
batter giving way to fat, smooth, moist flakes of fish; the chips’ crunchy
exterior contrasting with a light fluffy centre. It was in seeking to
re-create them that I experimented until I came up with my version of
fish-and-chip perfection.
Cod, plaice or haddock and maris piper potatoes are the traditional raw
ingredients for fish and chips, yet after consultation with David Blagden,
of James Knight of Mayfair, fishmongers to the Queen, and Claire Harrison of
the potato specialists MBMG, I decided to fry up nine potato varieties and
six different fish. And I came up with clear winners for my recipe: turbot,
and arran victory potatoes. Arran victory has the perfect balance of flavour
and texture when cooked as a chip: the glass-like exterior crunching apart
readily, the interior soft and delicately fluffy. It’s this contrast that
makes a great chip — the mix of two very different textures giving the mouth
a sublime surprise. Turbot has a pleasant texture and a fuller flavour than,
say, cod and its combination of large flakes and moist, succulent,
flavoursome flesh is the perfect contrast to a crunchy, textured batter. It
all goes to produce a more complex and delicious fried fish than your
average chippy fare.
A few pointers on buying your ingredients: as with meat, the cut of fish you
choose is important. Muscle is crucial to the flavour, so whether you are
buying a flat fish, such as plaice, a flaky fish, such as haddock or a round
fish such as john dory, you should try to get a male fish, as they develop
more muscle while swimming around, trying to impress the females, and don’t
waste energy on reproduction. Geography will also affect the look and taste
of fish, so ask where your fish comes from — different fish like different
types of water and a good fishmonger will know this.
With potatoes, high dry-matter content is the key to chips with a good flavour
and texture, so avoid waxy potatoes with low dry matter — they fry too dark
and the inside comes out almost wet, which means it will stick to your
tongue. A tip worth knowing: potatoes with a higher dry-matter content will
sink if you put them in a bucket of water, those with less dry matter will
float. And be aware that potatoes for chips need to be stored at 7–9C, to
avoid the starch turning to sugar and giving the potato a dark fry colour.
Before you start
No matter how good your fish, it can be ruined by bad batter. Batter has to
insulate the fish from the high heat of the fryer and also turn a crunchy,
crusty brown in the time it takes for the fish to cook. So it was vital to
develop a batter that suited the thickness of an average turbot fillet. A
water-based batter takes a long time to go brown, because all the water has
to evaporate before it will cook. Vodka is more volatile, so it evaporates
much more quickly. It has the added benefit of not developing the gluten in
the flour the way water does, which means you get a crisper crust. Using
lager and a soda siphon enhances the batter’s crunchiness by introducing
lots of bubbles that give it a marvellous lightness.
Good chips also depend on the removal of liquid. Allowing the chips to cool
right down between each stage of cooking gets rid of much of the moisture
that would otherwise escape from the chip as steam during frying, causing a
soggy exterior. Instead, you’ll have a crisp crust and a fluffy centre — the
perfect chip. And if you use an atomiser to spray the chips — and the room —
with the juice from a jar of pickled onions, the smell will be a fantastic
nostalgia trigger, conjuring up memories of your favourite fish-and-chip
shop.
Special equipment
Soda siphon (plus CO2 charges), digital probe, deep-fat fryer,
atomiser (optional).
Timing
Making the batter is easy, but it needs to chill for at least half an hour in
the fridge, after which, in order to keep the bubbles in, speed is the name
of the game.
Cooking the chips is a three-stage process; it’s not complicated, but it takes
a little longer, because the chips have to cool down before and after the
first frying. Preparing the chips to this point and leaving them overnight
in the fridge will make a fish-and- chip supper a quick and simple affair.
THE RECIPES
PERFECT FISH AND CHIPS
Ideally, get a whole turbot weighing 2.5kg and fillet it yourself or get the
fishmonger to do it. If you can’t, get four individual ones.
Serves 4
For the fish
200g plain flour
200g Doves Farm white rice flour, plus extra for dusting (from all good
supermarkets or www.goodnessdirect.co.uk)
1 tsp baking powder
1 tbsp honey
300ml vodka
300ml lager (Kronenbourg 1664 works well)
2-3 litres groundnut (peanut) oil
4 large turbot fillets, 2–3cm thick
Table salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 Tip the plain flour, rice flour and baking powder into a
bowl. Put the honey and vodka into a jug, stir, then add to the flour to
create a batter mix. Open the lager and stir it into the batter until just
combined. It doesn’t matter if the consistency is a little lumpy. The most
important thing is to open the lager just before stirring and transferring
to the siphon (see step 2), to retain as many bubbles as possible.
2 Transfer the batter to a jug, then pour it into a soda
siphon. Charge the siphon with three CO2 charges and put it in
the fridge for a minimum of 30 minutes.
3 In a large pan or casserole, put enough groundnut oil to
cover the fish. Heat it to 220C/425F, using the digital probe to check the
temperature. (It’s best not to use a deep- fat fryer for this, because the
temperature fluctuates too much and has trouble reaching 220C/425F.
4 Rinse the turbot fillets and dry them with paper towels.
Season well, then dust with rice flour — this ensures the batter sticks to
the fillets. Shake off any excess flour.
5 Remove the siphon from the fridge. Shake it vigorously,
then squirt enough batter to cover a fillet into a medium-sized bowl. (Don’t
squirt out too much — the batter begins to lose its bubbles as soon as it
leaves the siphon.) Dip the fillet into the foamy batter. When it is
completely coated, lower the fillet head first into the oil holding it by
the narrow tail end to avoid splashes.
6 As the fish fries, drizzle a little extra batter over it,
to give a lovely crusty exterior. When it has turned a light-golden brown,
which will take 1-2 minutes, turn the fillet over and drizzle more batter on
that side.
7 Let the fish cook for another minute or so, until it has
coloured to a deeper golden brown, then remove it from the oil. Use the
digital probe to check it is cooked: insert the probe into the thickest part
of the fish — once it reads 40C/105F, the fillet should be set aside. The
residual heat will cook it to a temperature of 45C/113F.
8 Repeat the above process with the remaining fillets.
For the chips
1.2kg arran victory or maris piper potatoes
2–3 litres groundnut (peanut) oil
Table salt and sea salt
1 Wash and peel the potatoes, then cut them into chips about
1.5cm thick. (Don’t worry too much about making them all the same size: the
variation will give a greater range of textures.) As soon as the chips are
cut, place them in a bowl under cold running water for 2-3 minutes, to rinse
off some of the starch, then drain.
2 Bring a large pan or casserole of salted water to the boil
(adding 10g salt per litre of water), add the chips, bring back to the boil
and then simmer until the chips have almost broken up (it’s the fissures
that form as the potato breaks up that trap the fat, creating a crunchy
crust). It is important to make sure the simmer is gentle, so that the
potatoes don’t start to fall apart before they have cooked through.
3 Using a slotted spoon, carefully lift the potatoes out of
the water and place on a cake rack. Leave to cool, then put in the fridge
until cold. (The dry air of the fridge makes a good environment in which to
remove excess moisture from the chips via evaporation.)
4 Pour enough groundnut oil to cover the chips into a
deep-fat fryer and heat it to 130C/250F. Plunge in the chips and allow them
to cook until they take on a dry appearance and are slightly coloured.
5 Remove the chips and drain off the excess fat. Place them
on a cake rack and allow to cool, then return to the fridge until cold.
6 Reheat the groundnut oil to 190C/375F. Plunge in the chips
and cook until golden brown. This will take 8-10 minutes.
7 Drain the chips, season well with a mixture of table and
sea salt, then pile next to the fish fillets.
To serve
1 jar of onions pickled in malt or white-wine vinegar (whichever is the more
evocative)
1 atomiser
Decant the pickling juice from the jar of pickled onions into the atomiser
and squirt it around the room or on the fish and chips.
TARTARE SAUCE
3-4 small shallots, peeled and finely chopped
1 egg, hard boiled
3 tbsp gherkins, finely diced
3 tbsp capers, chopped
20 tarragon leaves, finely chopped
4 tbsp parsley leaves, finely chopped
4 tbsp chervil, finely chopped
4 tbsp chives, finely chopped
150ml mayonnaise
30ml whipped cream
Place the shallots in boiling water until translucent — this should take
about 30 seconds. Remove from the boiling water and place immediately in a
bowl of iced water. Remove from the iced water, then set aside.
Finely dice the egg white, then place in a bowl with the gherkins, capers and
prepared shallots. Pass the egg yolk through a sieve, then add it to the
bowl. Next, add the herbs and mayonnaise, then fold in the whipped cream.
Mushy peas
Serves 4-6
475g frozen peas (I like Birds Eye)
65g butter
6 mint leaves
Salt and pepper, to taste
1 Defrost the frozen peas in a large pot filled with cool
water — this should take a only few minutes. Strain, shaking off as much
excess water as possible.
2 Reserve about one-fifth of the peas.Place the remaining
peas into a sauté pan, along with the butter and 50ml water. Cook over a
medium heat until all the water has evaporated and the peas are cooked
through. If your water is very hard, it would be best to buy some bottled
water (or, even better, de-ionized car-battery water) to use when cooking
the peas, as this will help to keep their colour bright green.
3 Place the cooked peas into a blender (or use a stick
blender) and purée. While blending, adjust the taste by adding the mint
leaves and the salt and pepper.
4 Fold in the reserved peas and serve.
A short history of fish and chips
This classic English dish came from a tradition of street food that was
already growing in the 19th century with the hot-pie shops of Victorian
England. Fried fish got a mention by Dickens in Oliver Twist (published in
1837), though it was then sold with a hunk of bread or a baked potato.
The birthplace of fish and chips is unidentifiable: Lancashire, London and
Dundee have all put forward a claim. The combination of fresh fish and a
hungry working class makes it likely that the dish developed in the northern
ports. In the south, the alliance of fish and potato could well have been
forged in the East End of London, where the close confines of the tenements
meant the fried-fish tradition of Jewish immigrants would have come into
contact with the potato-based diet of the Irish.
Three factors increased the dish’s popularity: manufactured ice meant
fishermen could travel further and catch more, preserving their haul in ice;
steam trawlers greatly increased the range of fishing opportunity; and
railways meant distribution could reach inland areas.
Both the French and the Belgians claim they invented the chip, or fry, in the
19th century. Fries were certainly popular in both countries by the 1830s,
and had reached Britain before the turn of the century.
The status of the chip as an international food is the result of the cultural
shake-up that occurred during the first world war. American soldiers
stationed in France (and Belgium) developed a taste for chips that they took
back home with them. It was then just a short step to world domination. The
humble chip is the main reason why potatoes are still up there among the
world’s top crops.
A good catch
Fish are one of our most ancient food sources. Archeologists have found huge
piles of oyster and mussel shells — evidence of fish feasts — dating back
300,000 years. This relentless plundering of the oceans has come at a cost.
Many once-common fish are under threat; our seas and rivers are all but
exhausted; and if we don’t adopt a responsible attitude and change how we
eat, we’re going to run out of fish. This would be a disaster for our diet
and health, and for the world’s ecosystem and biodiversity.
But there are ways to eat fish responsibly. The Marine Stewardship Council (www.msc.org)
inspects fisheries and certifies those that comply with sustainable fishing
practices. Find out if your purchases are from MSC-approved sources.
If the fish is farmed rather than caught, ensure it’s organic and accredited
by the Soil Association. (Fish farms exact their own damage on the
environment, so it’s important that these are also run responsibly.)
Find out which fish are abundant in British waters and try them out as an
alternative to those that have been air-freighted thousands of miles. The
Marine Conservation Society Good Fish Guide is a great starting point on
what to buy (from www.mcsuk.org), as is www.fishonline.org, which has a
search facility so you can check whether a fish is on the endangered list.
Fish sources
Find a good local fishmonger and make friends with him. He should be able to
tell you which fish to choose and where it comes from. His advice will be
invaluable. You will learn a lot that will help you in the kitchen.
Heston gets his fish from James Knight of Mayfair in London (020 7221 6177),
fishmonger to the royal family, no less. But if you can’t buy from them,
here are some other good suppliers:
The Fish Society, Surrey (0800 279 3474, www.thefishsociety.co.uk).
An enormous selection of about 200 varieties of seafood available by mail order.
The website has lots of recipes to inspire.
Cape Clear, W6 (020 7751 1609). Line-caught fish delivered daily, mostly from Dorset,
Devon and Cornwall. Recommended by Heston.
Fowey Fish, Cornwall (01726 832422, www.foweyfish.com).
Family-run business selling all manner of fresh fish, including turbot, by mail
order.
Martins Seafresh, Cornwall (0800 027 2066, www.martins-seafresh.co.uk).
An online company that sells a huge variety by mail order. Recommended by Delia
Smith.
Steve Hatt, N1 (020 7226 3963). Probably the best fishmonger in London. Nigel Slater
has been spotted patiently queuing along with everyone else. Good variety of
very fresh produce and staff who really know their stuff.
Taste, Barrow Gurney, near Bristol (01275 474300). A fabulous seafood supplier,
with a delicatessen and butchery, too. A favourite with Heston.
The Whitby Catch, North Yorkshire (01947 601313, www.thewhitbycatch.co.uk).
This shop and mail-order business is across the road from Whitby fish market,
and again has a vast selection to choose from.
And for the chips
MBMG (www.potatolovers.co.uk) will
recommend different varieties to try and can give you local stockists.
It also sells by mail order, but only in very large quantities.
Extracted and adapted from In Search of Perfection by
Heston Blumenthal (Bloomsbury £20). To order for £17.99 (inc p&p),
call The Sunday Times Books First on 0870 165 8585
