My grandma’s chip pan was disturbing. It used to sit on the counter near the door to the dining room, a black rim round a white circle of solidified beef dripping, like an eye with no pupil. It was strange and I wanted to poke it. Sometimes a carbonised chip left behind after frying would remain suspended in the white for days, or until the pan was put back on the stove and the dripping melted for the next batch. There was nothing disturbing about the next serving of chips, or battered cod, which were lifted out of the hot dripping like golden batons.

I have been thinking a lot about chips, battered cod and frying in general these last few weeks, for a new book and for my column, but also because of my endless quest to be a better fryer. (I have a long-term plan to open a tiny place that just serves fried food and fizzy drinks.) Writing this newsletter is a wonderful excuse to trawl the archives for gems like these: Matthew Fort’s view that the best chips of all are those fried in beef dripping; Jeremy Lee’s advice for exceptional chips; and the article in which former Fat Duck executive chef Ashley Palmer-Watts reveals everything he knows about producing perfect chips.

Many of us have anxiety about frying. I certainly do. And it’s a good anxiety to have, because it invites caution. Modern deep-fat fryers with safety gauges and sophisticated controls have alleviated much of that worry, but what if you don’t have one, or have space for a fryer? You just need a pan and some oil. I learned to deep fry with a Sicilian friend whose first bit of advice was to use a deep but not too large frying pan (with proportions like a small wok) and put in no more than a 1.5 litres of dripping or oil. (More on which oils are best for cooking here.) The second bit of advice was to keep the pan on one of the back burners so there would be less danger of bumps and splashes.

If you are an experienced fryer, a cube of bread can help gauge temperature (it should be completely surrounded by a coat of bubbles but still visible through them and take about two minutes to turn golden), otherwise a thermometer is invaluable. In the case of chips, this is 130° for the first fry and 185° for the second fry. How do you know when they’re done? “They will have a slightly glassy sheen on the outside,” says Palmer-Watts.

Which brings us to cod and batter (or more specifically beer batter), which after a recent day of batter testing I have concluded is a brilliant batter for both cod and salt cod. (I wrote about salt cod a couple of years ago, although I have changed my batter proportions since then: they are 200g plain or durum wheat flour, 20g of corn or rice flour, 200ml beer and a good pinch of salt. Cooking is all about changing your mind.)

A good crust is the result of thermal shock, when cold batter meets hot oil. Which is why it helps to put the fizzy water or beer in the freezer for 15 minutes (long enough to chill, but not to freeze) and to make the batter just before you intend to fry. When the extremely cold batter meets the hot oil (185°C), the surface water in the batter turns to steam, while what remains of the batter seizes into a crust, sealing the food, which then steams inside.

The food inside doesn’t have to be fish; sage or borage leaves, thin slices of apple or pear, batons of courgette or aubergine, parboiled florets of broccoli or cauliflower can all be dipped in beer batter and fried, for joy.

Culinary exchange | A couple of weeks ago a group of English chefs, brought together by a young Roman chef called Alessandro Venturi (of Spaghetti Junction in York) came to Rome. For one night only, they served bubble and squeak, toad in the hole, rabbit pies, eccles cakes and rhubarb crumble with custard to Romans, who went wild. My contribution was the easy-to-make tomato and apple St John ketchup, a bottle of which I kept back – and which we are enjoying on everything.

Rethinking the restaurant | “What if everyone in our community had access to great food and people to eat it with?” is the question the Long Table in Gloucestershire is answering with their radical rethinking of how a restaurant can be, offering a seat at the table for everyone, regardless of ability to pay. It’s rare to read about such audacious hope realised, and so upsetting to hear the project is threatened. I was also impressed (and not patronised) by Dr Federica Amati’s and Jane Baxter’s eye-opening and useful book Recipes for a Better Menopause.

The omelette did it | In the second episode of Columbo, Ken Franklin kills his more talented writing partner Martin Milner after Milner announces his intentions to go solo. The omelette occurs when the murdered man’s wife, distressed and under pressure after questioning, feels faint and Detective Columbo prepares her something to eat. It turns out to be excellent on-screen, in-character omelette-making.

Small wonders | I would love to visit the Yorkshire Pasta Company, based in Malton, north Yorkshire, not far from where my grandparents once lived. A friend brought me a bag of their mezze maniche and I was blown away; its texture and smell, the way it holds its shape and texture while cooking, the nutty flavour and sauce-catching ability.