info; chips are potatoes peeled and sliced then deep fried. those skinny horrible things that you get in Mcdonalds are french fries. what our colonial friends call chips are actually crisps.
Chips.
I fancied chips for dinner.
With bacon, eggs and beans.
Two thick slices of bread and butter.
I felt like a king, the wife was queen.
A cup of tea? Two sugars please.
A drop of milk and stir them round.
Those chips were nigh on perfect.
Not too pale and not too brown.
Lots of salt and vinegar.
A blob of tomato sauce.
The posh lot call it ketchup.
But I'm not posh at all.
My mam made lovelly chips each day.
She'd put them on my plate.
She'd slice my bread with butter thick.
A piece of cheese as well.
She'd always pinch a chip or two.
Mine always tasted best.
Just in case she wanted more.
I'd scoff down all the rest.
I like my chips with gravy.
A piece of battered cod.
People say “ that's disgusting”.
You ain't tried it, so you can't judge.
Chips with a drop of curry sauce.
Or a steak, cooked as you like.
Chips and tinned spaghetti.
Grated cheese, with a fork, no need for knives.
I like chips with just everything.
No, not with fruit or greens.
Any food not healthy.
It's never done harm to me.
I don't eat chips on Sunday.
For reasons non religious.
Sunday is for roast potatoes.
Chicken, beef and Yorkshire pud.
The wife shouts “ what do you want for supper love?”
Cornflakes of course....
