The majority of chip shops where I grew up were run by families originally from Barga, Italy. I visited a few years ago. They have a fish and chip festival high in the mountains there. We went. It was fantastic. You could have spaghetti Arabiata with chips. So I did. Most of the locals were mixing fish and chips with pasta dishes. There was a band, and kids dancing with their grandparents. Loads of wine. A huge amount of wine. Like the wedding in Godfather I. Then everyone drove back down the mountain on a single track road with hairpin bends and terrifying precipices, in the dark. Drunk.
