being a "kiwi" by birth, fish and chips are my soul food. for instant comfort zone all i need is a hot newsprint package with a hole torn in the side whilst my sticky little greased up fat fingers fight the heat & pungent fumes to oil slick up my greedy mouth and lips.... aaah, heaven. just add tomato sauce and stir.increasingly it's becoming difficult to actually capture the perfect mix. and as an afficionado of such matters, my experienced taste buds, finicky pseudo vegetarian oil cooking requirements [yes, some people still cook in lard, i've even come across whale fat before] and eye usually baulk at what is on offer in sydney. however there are a few rebel chippies which buck this trend, most notably the original fish and chip co based on glenayr ave on the lazy back streets beyond the shiny hub of the beach itself.
they deliver to puritanical pilgrims like myself fish and chip perfection. it's not until i finish licking the last snail trail of delightfully salted grease from my fingers, like a neanderthal desperately sucking marrow from a bone that i remember something grossly inconvenient. this is deeply considered whilst sculling something artificial and fizzy in a can. the whole reason i'm on a month long sabbatical from alcohol in some unlikely kudos wager [at this time of year] with friend and fellow punk monk ky is that i seem to have mysteriously lost my waistline.
"world famous in bondi" <-- to find the original fish and chip co just follow the sexy skanky sound trail of bob marley wailing out onto the streets from the dim eames lamp-lit interior which cast shadows onto retro aqua blue wallpaper which blanket the red formica tables.
it seems a shame to leave. if only i could stay here for every meal. but then the image of gilbert grape's mother come to mind...
original fish and chip co
163 glenayr ave
bondi beach
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