I'm sorry UK, but your fish and chips aren't that amazing

Here in Australia, there was a joke that when a British Airways plane landed, you could hear the whine even when the engines had stopped. We even had a term for British tourists who despite the beaches, could only compare everything unfavourably with West End theatre and pikelets in Covent Gardens – Whingeing Pom.

Nobody says it anymore, of course, because cheap air travel has empowered a generation of wild young Brits to take a gap year and backpack between hostels, get stoned in Aussie pubs, and just generally remain upbeat when they lose a foot to a bullshark in the surf.

On the other hand, when I was in London last year I whined a little bit. Overwhelmingly the place is amazing, and I want to go back tomorrow. However, I found two things didn’t compare favourably with back home. First – the public toilets ought to be called pub toilets, because despite the sense you’re in the very heart of glorious civilisation, you won’t find a toilet anywhere else. And if you do – it’ll cost you 50p, which is an outrage, because facilities to relieve oneself is a human right, not an opportunity for privatisation.

Oh - and your fish and chips aren’t as good.

Yes, I know that I’m striking at the heart of a cherished British institution here – one for which the rest of the world, not least myself, has to be grateful for. You showed us. But with respect, we’ve made it better.

Jannes Van Den Wouwer on Unsplash

Jannes Van Den Wouwer on Unsplash

For one thing, we’ve dropped the mushy peas, and consequently fish and chips in Aus is more likely to come with calamari rings or potato scallops – both far more thrilling alternatives to peas that look and taste like the lady who called you DARLING when you ordered chewed and spat them into a little wad on the plate. I suspect mushy peas are to British society like baked beans at 7am and forming an orderly queue – you don’t really want to, but it’s always been so.

And the fish? This has nothing to do with the fact the very first fish and chips I ordered in the birthplace of fish and chips came with fish that turned out to be almost translucent under the batter. I genuinely don’t believe haddock and hake holds up well to barramundi or hoki. This isn’t something you can change. You transported your criminals to a place with better fish.

It’s true, I didn’t go to Whitby, birthplace of Captain Cook but more relevantly, home of the Magpie Café. It’s said to be where one gets the best fish and chips in the world, however a friend who did go, told me it’s not life-changing. Yet you have to queue. And this is the problem with the British fish and chips. It’s hype.

Fish and chips is not a difficult recipe – anyone with decent white fish, a batter heavy with James Boag’s, and a deep fryer full of yesterday’s dirty oil can make excellent fish and chips. It’s not something that requires ancient tradition, or a region’s unique climate. Thus with sweeter fish and the jettisoning of mushy peas? We've done better.

HAPPY NATIONAL FISH AND CHIP DAY!