
Chef Thomas
Anglesey Eggs
Eggs bedded into leek-flecked mash under a blanket of sharp cheese sauce, baked until golden and bubbling. A Welsh supper dish that proves the simplest things are usually the best.
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Created by Chef Thomas
Fresh cod or haddock in crisp, golden beer batter with proper twice-cooked chips, mushy peas, and a sharp homemade tartare sauce. The Friday evening ritual, done right in your own kitchen.
Friday evening. The oil is hot, the kitchen windows have fogged over, and something golden is about to come out of the pan. There's a particular satisfaction in making fish and chips at home that has nothing to do with improving on the chip shop. The chip shop is its own institution and I wouldn't touch it. But this is different. This is yours: your kitchen, your batter, your chips cut the way you like them, fish from the fishmonger who told you what came in this morning.
The fish matters more than anything else here. A thick fillet of haddock or cod, properly fresh, with that clean sea smell and firm flesh that holds together in the batter without complaint. If the fish isn't right, no amount of crunch will save you. Go to the fishmonger. Ask what's good. The market decides.
The chips want to be thick and cooked twice: once in cooler oil to soften them through, then again at a proper heat to give them that golden, shattery crust around a fluffy middle. Maris Piper potatoes, if you can find them. They have the right balance of starch and moisture for the job. The batter is just flour, salt, and cold lager, whisked together and used straight away. The beer gives it lift. The cold keeps it light. Don't think about it too hard. We're only making dinner.
I wrote it down in the notebook years ago: Friday. Fish. Good chips. Vinegar. Rain on the window. It hasn't changed, and I see no reason it should.
Quantity
4 (about 175g each)
skinned and pin-boned
Quantity
175g, plus extra for dusting
Quantity
25g
Quantity
250ml
Quantity
to taste
Quantity
1kg
peeled
Quantity
for deep frying
Quantity
1 x 300g tin
Quantity
knob
Quantity
4 tablespoons
Quantity
1 tablespoon
rinsed and finely chopped
Quantity
2 small
finely chopped
Quantity
small handful
finely chopped
Quantity
1
Quantity
to serve
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| cod or haddock filletsskinned and pin-boned | 4 (about 175g each) |
| self-raising flour | 175g, plus extra for dusting |
| cornflour | 25g |
| cold lager | 250ml |
| fine sea salt | to taste |
| Maris Piper potatoespeeled | 1kg |
| sunflower or groundnut oil | for deep frying |
| marrowfat peas | 1 x 300g tin |
| unsalted butter | knob |
| good mayonnaise | 4 tablespoons |
| capersrinsed and finely chopped | 1 tablespoon |
| gherkinsfinely chopped | 2 small |
| flat-leaf parsleyfinely chopped | small handful |
| lemon | 1 |
| malt vinegar | to serve |
Cut the potatoes into thick chips, roughly the width of your index finger. Not thin fries. Proper chips. Rinse them under cold running water until it runs clear, washing away the surface starch, then put them in a large pan of cold salted water. Bring to a gentle boil and cook for six or seven minutes, until the edges are tender but the centres still hold firm. A knife should meet slight resistance in the middle. Drain carefully, they'll be fragile, and spread them out on a clean tea towel or a wire rack to cool and dry. This step is what separates good chips from forgettable ones.
While the chips cool, chop the capers and gherkins finely. Stir them into the mayonnaise with the parsley and the juice of half the lemon. Taste it. It should be sharp and punchy, with enough acid to cut through the richness of the batter. If it tastes polite, add more lemon. Set it aside. It improves as it sits, the flavours settling into each other.
Tip the self-raising flour, cornflour, and a generous pinch of salt into a large bowl. Pour in the cold lager and whisk until smooth. The batter should be the consistency of double cream: thick enough to coat the back of a spoon, thin enough to drip off in a steady ribbon. Don't overwork it. A few small lumps are fine and will sort themselves out. The lager must be cold. If you can chill the bowl too, so much the better. Cold batter, hot oil. That's the principle behind every crisp coating you've ever bitten into.
Heat the oil in a deep, heavy pan or a deep-fat fryer to about 130C. If you don't have a thermometer, drop in a single chip: if it sinks gently and bubbles appear lazily around the edges, you're there. Fry the chips in two batches for five or six minutes. They should be cooked through and pale, barely coloured at all. Lift them out with a slotted spoon and drain on kitchen paper. They'll look unfinished. That's right. They'll have their moment.
Tip the marrowfat peas into a small saucepan with their liquid. Warm them gently over a low heat, stirring now and then. When they're hot through, drain off most of the liquid, leaving just enough to keep them loose and spoonable. Stir in the butter and a squeeze of lemon. Season with salt. Crush a few against the side of the pan with the back of a wooden spoon if you like, but they don't need much help. Keep them warm with a lid on while you fry the fish.
Bring the oil up to 180C. This matters. Too cool and the batter soaks up oil and goes heavy. Too hot and it scorches before the fish cooks through. Pat the fillets dry with kitchen paper, then dust them in a light coating of flour, shaking off the excess. This gives the batter something to cling to. Dip each fillet into the batter, let the excess drip off for a moment, then lower it carefully into the hot oil, laying it away from you. Fry two fillets at a time, no more, or the oil temperature drops and everything suffers. Seven or eight minutes, turning once, until the batter is a deep, uneven gold and the fish inside is just cooked: firm when pressed gently, flaking at the thickest point. Lift out and drain on kitchen paper.
While the fish rests for a moment on the paper, bring the oil back to 180C and return the chips to the pan in batches. Two or three minutes this time, until they're golden and properly crisp, the colour of a good sunset. You'll hear the sound change: the bubbling quietens as the moisture leaves the surface. Drain on fresh kitchen paper and season immediately with fine sea salt while they're still hot and glistening. Don't wait. Salt sticks to hot chips. It slides off cold ones.
Put it all on warm plates. The fish, golden and crackling. A pile of chips. A generous spoonful of mushy peas. The tartare sauce on the side, or in a small bowl for the table. Cut the remaining lemon half into wedges and tuck one alongside. Put the malt vinegar on the table for those who want it. This is Friday evening. There are few better feelings than putting a warm plate of fish and chips in front of someone and watching them reach for the vinegar before you've even sat down.
1 serving (about 600g)
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