Fish Finger Sandwich

fish finger packer

I know what you’re thinking, and you would be right.  But, in my humble opinion everybody needs to indulge in a little fast food every now and then, and this is one of my favourites.


The choice of ingredients are crucial, the cooking method, vital.

Firstly, the bread.

I am partial to white sliced, wholemeal or granary, although now that the particular seeds get a mention in the title of the bread, granary no longer seems the third alternative (I don’t count brown).  Today’s choice of bread is pumpkin and sunflower seed. Delicious.  What you must never do though, is have a fish finger sandwich in a roll, bap, bread cake, bun, stottie, scuffler or any other round bread type affair.  Oh no, no, no, that will never do.

Your bread must ALWAYS be sliced.  And just as a little N.B. don’t buy brown bread. It’s pointless.  If you want brown coloured bread go for wholemeal, much better for you and tastes so much nicer.

Next, the fish finger.

It’s a funny old thing eating something covered in bright orange bread crumbs, as I’ve never seen a loaf of bread that’s bright orange or indeed toasted crumbs that come out bright orange.  To be honest I have absolutely no idea what they put in the crumbs to make them so orange, and quite frankly, I have no intention of ever finding out.  Some things are best left in the ‘don’t want to know’ cupboard.  After all, this is about fast food indulgence which, by it’s very nature, has very little intrinsic health value.

That said, I prefer my fish fingers to have a declaration on the front, some thing along the lines of ‘made with 100%…’ or ‘made entirely from…’.  Probably because it makes me feel better about what I’m eating.  What was that, advertiser’s dream?

*Pops rose tinted glasses back on*

Onto the cooking process.

Place four fish fingers under a medium heat grill, and turn regularly until the fish innards begin to bubble through the breadcrumb topping, and everything goes slightly crispy on the outside.  Meanwhile butter one slice of bread and spread tomato ketchup on another.  With a little black pepper if you fancy a tastebud kick.

When done, place three fish fingers side by side going vertically from left to right on the slice of buttered bread, and one horizontally on top.  Gently crush.

Put the tomato ketchup slice of bread on top of the fish fingers, press ever so slightly, and cut in two.

Take that first bite and sigh deeply at the complete and utter indulgent pleasure of it all.


Comfort food

photo (48)

Every now and then I get to the point where I just want to eat something which makes me feel slightly warm and fuzzy and reminds me of being ‘home’.  By which I mean my mum’s house when I was a child.  In my mind’s eye, everything is in a sunshine shade of polaroid.  It’s an ideology of comfort brought on by selective memory syndrome, which I think you will agree, we all suffer from occasionally.

So, favourite comfort foods?  Well, being a child in the seventies anything out of a tin has an association, but Heinz Tomato Soup has to be on the comfort food list.  As does tea and toast.

Interestingly, rice pudding aside, I don’t really go for a sweet comfort food, although am happy to be persuaded.  And then, of course, there’s always the amount of effort you need to put in to be comforted.  More often than not comfort food is needed when you are, sadly, a little under the weather. That weather often being a force ten gale with added storm.

However, I do have one foodstuff that always satisfies and something I am prepared to rustle up, on the way out of the storm, every time.  Now I realise that everyones comfort food is very dependant on their influential culinary early years, so consequently, one persons comfort is another’s chore.  But I do believe at least a few of you will glow when you find out what it is.

So, are you sitting on the edge of your seat with barely controlled anticipation?

Ok, let me share.  Mashed potato.  Hmmm.  It can be as part of something such as shepherds pie, or indeed fish pie.  It can be a feature in a plate of food my grandma used to call ‘sandcastle mince’.  Which, for anyone who may be remotely interested, consisted of the mashed potato acting as a sandcastle and the mince, carrots and peas, taking on the role of the sea.  It could be ensconced within a jacket, although I would attest that isn’t actually mashed potato.  But for me, sometimes, it’s just the best thing in the world on it’s own, with a little grated cheese on top, and if you like to live on the edge of high society (rather like myself), a sprinkling of black pepper and a dollop of Tomato Ketchup.

And I’ll let you into a little secret.  Get yourself one of those potato ricer gadgets, add lots of butter, and I promise you, your mashed potato will taste sublime and never have lumps again.

A comfort food cuddle on a plate.  Perfect.