Fresh and Fried from the Sea

Maggies, Rock-a-Nore, Hastings

Fish and chips are ubiquitous in the U.K. But I can tell you, that doesn’t mean they’re all on equal playing ground. On a recent getaway to Hastings on the coast of East Sussex, I discovered a one-woman show not to be missed.

Hastings is a typical seaside fishing town. Picture a charming “old town” (antique shops, old pubs, even houses dating back to 1450) with a bit of seaside kitsch mixed in, amusement-park style.

Hidden among the 17th-century, two-storey (25 feet!), tarred-net huts (historically used to hang the fishermen’s nets to avoid rotting) is Maggies. Upon entering, it feels like a bit of a throwback: plastic tablecloths, mismatched chairs and a kitchen that looks like it could be from any residential home of the 1970s. Each table has a view of the open kitchen with Maggie front and centre, manning it like a circus ringmaster commands a stage. Her deep fryer is her domain.

Even before entering the restaurant I knew I was having fish and chips – this is a fishing village after all. But I have to admit, I was curious about the “chip sandwich” on the menu, as my husband has often mentioned this was a childhood favourite. The chip sandwich will have to wait – I order the standard cod and chips with a side of mushy peas (a must with fish and chips as far as I am concerned). A frosty lager to quench, and I forget about the calories for now.

When the food arrives, I must say I am slightly overwhelmed at the amount of fish on my plate! Perfectly golden and light – there is nothing greasy about this fry-up. I break open the batter and flaky, opaque cod is exposed. Clearly this fish has just been caught! A little salt and vinegar and my mouth is watering. And the chips are not a sideshow: They are fat and crispy, just they way they should be.

Deep frying may seem like a simple cooking method that anyone can do. But I beg to differ. Thinking back to my days at cooking school in Paris, deep frying was part of our final exam – and yes, greasy fried food meant a FAIL. Oil temperature is key: when food is immersed, it should cook from the inside out and avoid hanging out in the oil for too long. There is an art to deep frying, and Maggie’s got the touch. Believe me.

When my belly is full of fish and chips (and scampi too!), the small-town charm shows up again as the bill arrives, handwritten in blue and red marker. When travelling, I find it’s these unexpected things that add je ne sais quoi to the experience. I can’t explain why, but that bill is just the perfect ending to the perfect fry-up in the perfect setting.

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