So, it is time to settle an argument unwillingly opened by my mother this past weekend on the subject of the favoured lunch of millions- The Fishfinger Sandwich.
The preferable, even out and out correct, serving of this dish provoked a firey debate in the caravan. There were many suggestions put forwards from my luncheon companions.
All wrong of course.
The only way to do it is on thick cut, buttered granary bread with a healthy smear of tartare sauce (but only on the top slice. Not both. That’s overkill). If you can get pub style chunky battered fishfingers, all the better but a humble frozen Birdseye will do just fine, hell I’ll even let you away with whatever Tesco are calling their Value range these days. Serve with chips and mayo on the side, and a big wedge of lemon. The closest to perfect I have ever had this was in the bar at Smiths of Smithsfields, and thank you John Torrode for that.
Others have ‘alternative’ ideas, such as white bread, baguette, pittas then ketchup, salad, gherkins, salt and vinegar crisps. One otherwise trusted friend insists on big chunks of pickled beetroot atop the humble breaded cod. There’s another debate- taste vs responsibility, sustainability taking on tradition do you have cod or haddock or, shudder, generic ‘white fish’?
And the diabolical choices don’t end there- now that you have your perfect fishfinger buttie what do you drink with it? Coke, beer, Kopperbarg, a Bloody Mary, ye gods a cup of bloody tea?!?!?!?!?!
The mind boggles. The palate worries. The salivary glands activate.
Three guesses what’s for dinner in this house.