Ok, so check this out. Fish and chips is totally real. It is not a mythical meal. It is in fact, 100% a thing.
If you're ever in my main stomping ground, sunny Brighton on the southern most coast of the UK, then you're gonna want some fish and chips. You just will. It would be pedantic not to, like going to Eurodisney and not experiencing a crushing sense of ennui.
But here comes the boldest claim: if you get your fish/chip combo from any joint other than BARDSLEY'S on Baker Street, then you my friend have not sampled real fish and chips.
The menu cover is blurry in this picture, but the sentiment is clear:
Yeah, I know! 1926! That mean looking dude in the granny-glasses was dishing out battered-swimmers back before Winston Churchill ever even decided to be fat.
You don't have to eat in the restaurant, but it's kind of fun to as they are a licensed premises, with wine and beer and everything. Plus, if you're lucky, this table will be free.
Not only is it essentially a converted greenhouse, with a glass roof and weird climbing plant, but it is absolutely covered wall-to-wall with Max Miller memorabilia. The world at large probably doesn't remember Max all that well, but in his 1940's heyday he was known referred to as "The Pure Gold Of The Music Hall" for his way old fashioned saucy gags and double-entendre filled songs.
Here's a sample of Max's style:
Somebody's gonna get spanked!
They actually have one of Max's suits in a glass case right there in the restaurant. Isn't this a strange thing to be looking at while you eat?
I'm glad that Bardsley's are keeping his memory alive. It may seem a little out of place at first, but Max Miller was such a big part of the whole wartime, seaside, "Brighton Rock", picture-postcard vibe that gave Brighton it's dark/colourful playground reputation; he goes along with fish and chips just as much as salt and vinegar.
I don't want to be overselling the point, but they even built a statue of him in the town centre!
A classic Max Miller gag went something along the lines of:
I was waiting for the tram, and a young lady comes along, so I offer her my seat.
"Thanks very much" she says, "I'm pregnant, you know."
"Oh well congratulations," I said. "How long have you been pregnant?"
"Only ten minutes so far, but doesn't it make you tired?"
Saucy stuff. Not to say that Bardsley's itself can't be classy...
I got huss, chips, and a side of mushy peas. I will be honest, this place is not the cheapest by any means, but if you can afford it, it is totally worth it. Just look at this "small" portion (excuse the bad picture):
That is huge! Huss is a criminally under-represented fish. Meaty, flavoursome, and only one bone in the thing. Also the bone is very easy to remove because it is the size and shape of a human spinal cord.
Once you get that out, it's easy eating the whole rest of the way. The batter is light, crisp, and not at all greasy. It's actually got kind of a tempura-esque quality to it. The chips are thick, well cut, and everything you'd want a chip to be.
Special mention does need to be made of the mushy peas.
I know, I know. They are ugly right? But I cannot urge you enough, no matter how cautious of them you are, please do get these mushed-up peas as a side to your fish. If you do, you will not need any other sauce. Their earthy, salty, slightly sweet flavour really does hold everything together in the most wonderful way.
It's just all over too quickly... But I'll definitely be going back soon for another excellent meal to inspire in me a rare moment of civic pride.
...with a little help from our boy Max.
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