Beer Batter Fish and Chips

Cold snap this week. The real kind. The kind where the temperature drops to negative twenty and the wind chill is negative forty and the schools close and the city tells people to stay inside and the truckers keep driving because freight does not care about wind chill. I drove to Lincoln on Tuesday in conditions that would make a sane person stay in bed, but I am not sane, I am a trucker, and there is a difference.

The truck handled it fine. Modern trucks are built for this. The engine block heater keeps the diesel from gelling, the cab heater keeps me warm, and the highway department salts I-80 like it is a margarita. The danger is not the cold. The danger is the other drivers, the ones in cars who do not understand that stopping distance triples on ice and that an eighteen-wheeler cannot stop on a dime even on dry pavement, let alone on a sheet of ice outside York. I gave everyone a wide berth. I drove slow. I got there.

At home, Dave kept the kids entertained during the snow days with his usual approach: let them watch TV, feed them cereal, and hope for the best. When I got home Wednesday, the house looked like a consequence-free zone: cereal bowls in the sink, blankets on the floor, Tyler had disassembled a clock for some reason. I did not ask questions. I cleaned up and started cooking.

I made a big batch of chili, because chili is the answer to every cold-weather question. Ground beef, beans, tomatoes, spices. I made it thick this week, less soupy, almost like a chili con carne you could eat with a fork. Served it over cornbread instead of with it, like a savory cobbler. The kids devoured it. Dave ate his bowl standing at the counter, still in his work coat, too cold to take it off yet. The kitchen was warm from the stove and the oven and the chili, and outside it was negative twenty, and inside we were eating and alive and that gap between the outside and the inside felt like everything that matters in the world.

Gayle called to say she was fine, which means she was cold and lonely and fine. I drove over Thursday morning with a container of chili and a loaf of bread and found her in three sweaters watching The Price Is Right. I turned up her thermostat. She turned it back down. I turned it up again when she was not looking. We have been doing this for years. Neither of us is going to win. The thermostat war is eternal.

The chili was gone by Friday — Gayle got the last of it — and the cold had not let up, and the kids were still looking at me with that hollow snow-day stare that means they need feeding in a serious way. Beer batter fish and chips is what I reached for next: hot oil, cold beer, a coating that fries up shatteringly crisp, and the kind of meal that fills a kitchen with steam and smell and makes everyone sit down without being asked. It is not subtle food. It is exactly right for a week like this one.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 30 min | Total Time: 45 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

1 1/2 lbs cod or haddock fillets, cut into 4–6 pieces
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour, divided
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon salt, plus more for seasoning
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
1 cup cold lager or pale ale
1 large egg
2 lbs russet potatoes, cut into 1/2-inch sticks
Vegetable or canola oil, for frying (about 4 cups)
Malt vinegar and tartar sauce, for serving
Lemon wedges, for serving

Instructions

Par-cook the chips. Place potato sticks in a large pot of cold salted water. Bring to a boil and cook 5 minutes until just barely tender. Drain thoroughly and pat completely dry with paper towels. Drying is important — moisture is the enemy of crispiness.
Heat the oil. Pour oil into a large heavy-bottomed pot or Dutch oven to a depth of at least 3 inches. Heat over medium-high to 350°F. Use a thermometer if you have one; the temperature matters for both chips and fish.
Fry the chips first. Working in two batches, fry the potato sticks for 4–5 minutes until golden and crisp. Remove with a slotted spoon to a wire rack or paper-towel-lined tray. Season immediately with salt. Keep warm in a low oven (200°F) while you fry the fish.
Make the batter. In a large bowl, whisk together 1 cup of the flour, baking powder, 1 teaspoon salt, pepper, and garlic powder. Add the cold beer and egg and whisk until smooth. The batter should be thick enough to coat a spoon. Place the remaining 1/2 cup flour in a shallow dish.
Batter and fry the fish. Pat the fish fillets dry. Dredge each piece in the dry flour, shaking off the excess, then dip fully into the beer batter, letting the excess drip off. Carefully lower into the hot oil. Fry in batches — do not crowd the pot — for 4–5 minutes per side until deep golden and cooked through. The internal temperature should reach 145°F.
Drain and serve. Transfer fish to the wire rack and season lightly with salt. Serve immediately alongside the chips with malt vinegar, tartar sauce, and lemon wedges.

Nutrition (per serving)

Beer Batter Fish and Chips — Another Cold-Night Comfort When the Chili’s Gone