I love deep fried fish – thin batter coating fresh fish, crispy and hot, and fresh from the deep fat fryer. I don’t know about you, but I never deep fry at home, especially since we decided life would be quieter and the head bumping statistics less remarkable by getting rid of the extractor fan. Now, I don’t think an open window and a Price’s Cooks Candle could cope with the resulting stench.
The local chippie must have been pleased for our loss though, and we are often nipping for a fish supper. Looking forward to crispy light batter, around succulent pieces of fresh haddock. Most times it nears the expectation. And if the night is especially dark and cold, the expectations are lowered.
Expectations are also lowered when it is way past lunchtime, with two hungry girls, and you don’t know on which Amsterdam canal you have pulled up. A cold drink would do….maybe a leftover morning pastry from the bakers….an apple or two. We had hired a little motorboat, and had a really great morning on the canals in Amsterdam, glorious sunshine, beautiful canals, and had even managed to avoid the great bullying tourist boats (“they stop for no-one, you will have to get out of the way” the guy at the boat hire place told us) as they roared up the canals.Feeling generally pleased with ourselves, we pulled up in search of something, anything, while the girls manned the boat. After a few steps we were inside a wet fish shop – maybe there’s smoked salmon, or some prawns,there’s a bit of bread…when we realised that theyactually fry the fresh fish to order. We ordered. It proved to be one of the most memorable meals of the week in Amsterdam – nuggets of fresh cod, the lightest, crispiest batter, seasoned perfectly, drained well and piled high. We sat on our little boat refuge, eating fresh buttered bread and hot,fresh fried fish in the glorious sunshine, feeling all’s well with the world. Perfect day.