"I see."

Fish and chips, he noted, dispassionately glancing down at his meal once again with his cool, analytical blue gaze, had arisen as a stock meal amongst the working classes of the Kingdom of Great Britain during the later half of the 19th century as a consequence of developments in trawl fishing in the North Sea, providing the people of the Isles with greater access to fresh fish, and the establishment of a railway network between the major industrial hubs and sea ports served to expose more of the population to the meal. The presence of a Spanish Jewish diaspora, having fled persecution in their homelands, brought the technique of frying fish, hence inventing the model for the modern-day dish. It was interesting, seeing how the economic and social realities of the day could influence cuisine in such a manner; how recipes developed seem to be something that many humans took for granted, ignorant of the situation that could allowed them to emerge and become popular amongst a sizeable group.

He plucked another one of the chips from the paper, depositing it upon his tongue once more to savour the flavour.

Fried chips, chunks of potato, had also been popularised during the same period, and likely had been in the same form as the modern-day incarnation. They were basic foodstuff, after all, unlikely to have undergone any dramatic evolution. It was why the working class would have flocked towards it; simple, cheap and quick were a blessing to any labourer returning from any occupational struggles.

It was also ... tasteful.