¶ . . . One of the few pleasures I enjoy by being an unfortunate resident of Southern Kalifornia is the presence of H. Salt, Esq. Fish & Chips. It has largely remained the same as I remember as a youth. Back then there was a local franchise on Lincoln in Venice. My dear ol' Ma and Pa, recently relocated to Nevada, are unable to any longer savor the fine fare, as it is a SoKal phenomenon only. . .
. . . There was one exception, however, in the West Valley. One of the fine delights of H. Salt is their excellent Tartar sauce. Not with this curmudgeonly dude. He had packets, surely bought in bulk, and dispensed with grudging paucity. Another of his fine attributes was his penchant for serving one customer at a time, and I do mean one. The next order would not be taken until the previous one was cooked, wrapped and served. One might imagine how this might be problematic on Ash Wednesday, when there was an especially big run on fish dinners. As one would expect, this continued for the duration of the Lenten period. Good news: that cat's no longer there. Bad news: neither is the store! Fortunately, albeit a long trek to NoHo, there are some fine folks there who run a clean and efficient franchise.