A cone of chips so they don’t get squished and soggy. A little wooden fork (is it called a fork?) that just about holds a chip long enough to fling it into your mouth. The hoof-hoof-ahh-hoof as you fling it in when it’s too hot. And then again. And a third time. The feeling of a hot chip on a bitterly cold day as it warms your neck, and then your stomach. The subtle but oh-so-fucking-wonderful feeling of your teeth first breaking a crisp skin, but then sinking into soft potato. The lashings of salt and vinegar for that enviable trio of salt, fat and acid in a single bite. The last chip, a vinegar sponge, that makes your jaw smart but your mouth smile; eyes, close.