What do you think about fast food?

In fact, when you think about it, what does the phrase ’fast food’ mean?

We also often use the term ’junk food’, but that is subjective. One man’s junk food can be another man’s haute cuisine.

Fast food, takeaways, and home deliveries of many varieties are not, by any stretch of imagination, junk food.

Burgers, pizzas, Chinese, Indian and so on are all good fun and all good food. The problem is, that as a generation, we just eat too much of the stuff.

It is convenient, tasty and, unfortunately, it can become addictive.

I have to admit to a fondness for a plateful of pork spare ribs and barbecue sauce, or even a pile of southern fried chicken wings.

And don’t let me start on the joys of Chinese crispy duck and roast pork. But I am blessed to be married to an excellent cook. I enjoy a healthy appetite, and we have the time and the lifestyle to sit and enjoy a balanced diet.

Remember, too much of a good thing can be just that.

The subject was brought to mind the other evening.

We had been to a very enjoyable World Poetry Day event in the Douglas Library, and were standing on the pavement of an under construction Duke Street.

’Do you know what?’ I said to Brown Eyes, who looked at me suspiciously. ’I just fancy a bag of chips.’

Now just remember the old days. Sit back, close your eyes and imagine the aroma of a bag of fish and chips.

Imagine holding the warm, newspaper-wrapped parcel of beef dripping-fried, crispy battered fish, double cooked chips and mushy peas.

Think of the fragrant steam that will fill your senses when you open the packet and release the warmth from the golden contents.

Think of the mushy peas that lie there in their pool of green temptation. Mushy peas are a colour of their own.

A colour that is not repeated in any paint manufacturer’s colour chart that I can find.

I think that I will apply to register this unique shade, and call it ’Cunliffe Green’.

This would be in memory of the late Leslie Cunliffe who operated one of the earliest chip shops that I can remember.

It was in Hope Street in Douglas and, for me, this ordinary terraced house has stayed in my mind as the standard that has been set as a chippy ’Michelin Star’.

Speers’ chip shop in Athol Street will always be my first.

I was about eight or nine years old when I was first sent on a message by my grandmother, who lived in Shaw’s Brow, then a narrow street which ran parallel with Athol Street and came out directly opposite Speers’, on the Peel side of the main road.

I would be sent on my way with a large white basin, a clean tea towel, and exactly the right money in my pocket.

The mission was to buy a basinful of chips for our tea. There would be me, my younger brother, Aunt Elsie (who always had a smouldering woodbine in the corner of her mouth), and grandmother.

If times were kind there would be black puddings or what we used to call savoury ducks from Clague’s tripe shop, and if times were hard there would be plenty of bread and butter.

’And just where do you think you are going to get chips from?’ Brown Eyes said, bringing me back to reality.

And do you know, I was stumped.

There are no chippys in down-town Douglas.

There are pubs, wine bars, restaurants and cafes. You can buy Italian pizza, Chinese chow mein or meat pies from the Co-op. But there are no chippys.

We went to the Legion. It was a Thursday, there were about eight other customers.

Everyone was at home, watching telly, and ordering a home delivery.

Hey Ho!

A decade ago Pullyman - aka Michael Cowin - was diagnosed with Parkinson's Disease, a condition that affects people in different ways. Michael discovered writing and Island Life is featuring some of his musings. Sometimes topical, sometimes nostalgic, read about life as seen through the eyes of Pullyman