The Ubiquitous Chip

When starting on a new adventure, it's important to remember who you are, where you came from and the composition of your food genes.

As a child I was incredibly lucky, food wise. I didn't realise it at the time, but a distinct lack of funds during the early years of the 80's meant my parents were always scrimping and saving, using and re-using and generally being inventive in the kitchen. It was here that I watched them unwittingly create the building blocks of my culinary knowledge and for these I am eternally grateful. I remember gazing wide-eyed at the pots and being told that it was important to brown meat before making a stew "otherwise we'll be eating leather". I'm not sure if it was the sizzle of lamb on fat, or the golden brown it turned, but that memory is now imprinted in my nut-store for good.

Another memory etched into my skull is my first ever job, at the local chip shop. My parents had decided that it was time to learn "the value of money" and that "nothing comes for free". So I was marched down to the chippy (wailing) to beg, borrow or steal a job and was amazingly taken on peeling spuds at the back of the shop - for £2.00 a bucket. And by bucket I mean a barrel, full of ice cold water, containing a couple of hundred potatoes each. It was hellish. But when I'd filled three barrels and earned my £6.00 for the evening, I skipped home planning what I could buy if I saved up enough money. Much hard work later, I was promoted to serving customers alongside my friend, Michael the ladies man. Even at the age of 14 he had a way with women. A classic wing-man.

And it was here that I had my first moment of true food satisfaction. I simply loved the ritualistic questions - "Beth wy't ti moen?" (What would you like?) followed by "Halen a vinegar?" (Salt and Vinegar?). I loved the precise nature of wrapping up fish and chips in a couple of sheets of paper and handing them over, warming like a hot water bottle, to eager punters. The smells I adored - gently sizzling chips and crisp battered Cod. And the speed, the efficiency - for someone who went on to work in a professional kitchen, it was the ultimate education.

Twelve years later and I'm sitting outside on a rickety, slightly damp park bench, in the soothing mist with chips and mushy peas, reflecting on the utter timelessness of the place. The youngsters who served me had the same crazed look that Michael and I used to have as the queue grew ever longer, eventually stretching out the door, with hungry stomachs. The layout of the place was identical and the bowls of raw, part-fried and fried chips were all lined up like dominos. And the glee! The sheer glee on the faces of the diners as they munched on a humble fried potato brought me careering back to the satisfaction I felt as mothers and fathers walked out of the door with the family meal.

And it's appropriate that it's here, at the chip shop, that I start on my new food journey which will hopefully take me places I haven't seen and gift me people whom I'll carry with me forever. Having thrown in the old career and invested in a culinary education at the Ballymaloe Cookery School, I'll be plying my trade as a roaming cook, learning as I go. But it all started here, with the simple, modest chip, and in honour of it, this is how you make your own:

Chip Shop Chips

I find that using 'old' potatoes such as Golden Wonder works well. Eat them straight away while they are crisp, and dip them in good quality mayonnaise.

Ingredients:

8 'Golden Wonder' Potatoes
Good Quality Olive Oil

Method:

1. Pre-heat your fryer to 160 degrees centigrade.
2. Clean potatoes well and leave unpeeled.
3. Cut into chips about half an inch thick and 2.5 inches long.
4. Rinse and pat dry to remove excess starch.
5. Fry until just soft. This should take about 5 minutes.
6. Remove the chips. Bring the heat of the oil up to 200 degrees centigrade.
7. Re-fry chips until golden and crisp. Remove, drain on kitchen paper and sprinkle with salt.