FILET-O-FISH’N CHIPWICH

[ezcol_1half] SOMEWHERE ALONG THE LINE OF LOSING CHILDHOOD INNOCENCE AND MATURING FOOD-PHOBIAS, I'VE GROWN ESTRANGED TO THIS WONDERFUL THING THAT PRACTICALLY RAISED ME [/ezcol_1half] [ezcol_1half_end] I've been wanting to do a fried fish sandwich for some time now.  In fact, it's strange even to myself that it has taken me so long, considering that battered fried fish, from both the perspective of nostalgia and deliciousness, holds a very special place in my heart. Myself, circa 1992, fresh off the boat in Vancouver and practically English-illiterate, this was one of the very first introduction I had into the then-completely-alien world of western food culture.  Once in a while, friends and families would make a special night out of dinning at the New England-style seafood restaurants lining the river-port, for this was a scarce enjoyment where we came from, and for me, watching the seagulls pirating scraps off of the table, it served a foreign exhilaration of this new place to call home.  Back then, with the inability to understand the menu, a dinner in a place like this would almost certainly meant having the same entree over and over again, and that was, yes, fish and chips.  A funny dish that, I was told, the child I was should really appreciate.  To be honest,