literally another aussie in london

talking about fish and chips

With all the Australians in my house (which my wife has assured me that she would love more of them to come and was happy with the ones that did) I’ve been talking a lot about fish and chips.

Sure they have fish and chips in the UK, but it isn’t the same.  Just as if you were brought up on UK fish and chips the Aussie ones wouldn’t be the same.

All this started when my mate wore a chiko roll t-shirt.

A chiko roll is, well someone else has explained it better, “Some variation of a Chinese spring roll. It started off as a Chicken Roll and being Australian, was quickly reduced to a Chiko. But no chicken, just mutton, massively battered with bits of cabbage, carrot, animal fat, celery, onions, green beans, textured soy protein, cooked barley, salt, sugar, spices and numbers like 471, 635, 320, 450 and colours 102, 100.”

It should be said that over the years I can’t recall seeing anyone eat one of these.

But the chiko roll myth is way more than about food, it was about Posters.  When I grew up every fish and chip shop had an old terribly sexist poster in their shop.  Some had more.  They were always badly laminated or falling apart, but they had pride of place in the fish and chip shop.

Going to the fish and chip shop or the mechanics was one of two places I would get my soft-core thrill.  It was like Baywatch before there was a Baywatch. You can say whatever you want about those posters, but those girls always knew how to hold that roll.

So seeing the Chiko Roll girl on my mate’s chest took we way back to fish and chip shops I grew up in.  Greek guys running it, calling everyone boss, dirty grease everywhere.   Sweltering heat in the mostly non air-conditioned shop. Deciding between Flake or Whiting.  And the Chiko Roll Girl sitting proudly on the wall grasping that phallic food that seemed like an even dodgier version of the dim sim.

It started a huge discussion that involved a 15 minute section where my mate and I both badly explained what a potato cake is to my wife.

For those who don’t know, the potato cake (or potato scallop) is a large thin piece of potato that is deep fried in batter.  I’ve never truly seen the need for potato cakes, I’m already getting deep fried potato in the form of chips, do I really need more, and battered.

But many people do.

As my conversation with my other Aussie mate a few days later showed.  His family would get a whole heap of potato cakes, as part of their Friday night order.  I know a lot of families that had fish and chips as a Friday night special.

This was always a big thing in Australia, getting fish and chips on a Friday night can be an experience, the really clever people phone their order in.  Everyone seems to be wearing moccasins or thongs (jandals/flipflops) and people always seemed to be holding their keys in their hands.

We never did, most of my fish and chips meals were when my mum was out.

Dad loves his fish and chips, and this was good as I loved dim sims and he loved potato cakes, so when he got meal deals, we would swap dim sims for potato cakes, although when my mother was involved she would ruin it, as she liked dim sims as well.

I’ll be back in Australia in November, and on that first night I shall eat fish and chips.

But for now, the two rather long and drawn out fish and chip discussions were more than enough.

June 17, 2010 Posted by Jrod | living in london | fish and chips, food | 5 Comments