British Culture

There was a lot of depression in this household today, even Jake looked pissed off. I think we've essentially had a collective moment of clarity. There's nothing like reality to bring you down....well that's true of our current reality although I can remember when it was otherwise. What was called for was a heartening day of pleasurable and uplifting activity: say an afternoon spent in my canoe gently paddling along the Thames...through the flooded, bleak cold landscape of a wet February. Maybe not. Perhaps a slap up nosh at Raymond Blanc's "Maison de quatre saison" followed by a swift drive up to Stratford to watch the RSC.....oh! I see my wallet is significantly too light. Nothing for it then, looks like a visit to the Chippy and a celebration of Britain's contribution to world cuisine ... Nay! World civilisation! is in order. The noble , exotic, deep fried adventure in gratification and artery clogging that is Fish & Chips....and it's cheap. Additionally in this time of unfettered, brutal class warfare it's as working class as Eel Pie and Ricketts.

This is our local chippy and a very fine one too , even if they haven't heard of Scottish innovations such as deep fried battered haggis and Mars Bars. A proper family run one rather than one of a chain. My first home as a puking, crying baby was a rented flat over just such an establishment (only in a building that was about 150 years older) near Wishaw Cross. 50 years later and about 500 miles away I don't seem to have come very far at all....

Ladygrove is the name of the area the shop serves. It's strange how words you use every day come to lose any wider meaning, for example I was extolling the virtues of this hot food emporium to my daughter the other day and was lost in incomprehension for several moments when she giggled and asked, "Lady grove fish bar?!....is that a euphemism?"....