A Trip to the Chippy

A Trip to the Chippy

I knew it would be a challenge to maintain my low-carb regimen while in Scotland, especially given that most menus comprise battered protein and starch with a side of peas. However, I was not about to blow a 13-lb. weight loss. At least, this was my frame of mind before I discovered the glory of fish and chips.

Since returning from my trip, I have decided that I will never again eat this dish anywhere but in Scotland. Not only will this ensure dedication to my regimen, but it will guarantee that my vision of the perfect fried combination will never be tainted.

A trip to the “Chippy” is a decadent treat, and my experiences fulfilled every promise my mother had made about the delight of fried fish and potatoes wrapped in paper. The fish is so fresh it flakes apart as the batter reverberates with a crisp crackle, and the chips — oh my. I have always had a weakness for French fries, but these are like no other. It would be an affront for the Chippy to use frozen potatoes, so these are made fresh, and deep-fried to a mesmerizing golden hue.

Thankfully I managed to exercise enormous amounts of self-discipline, and kept to a mere three journeys to the Chippy over a two-week period. I also put a few miles on my running shoes to work off the carb overload, but the joy of eating my new favorite dish was worth every step. And did I mention the malt vinegar?

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