How many chips would a miss miss if a little miss missed her chips?

Oooh.Just had a cellular flashback to a generic moment from my past: standing out front of some fish and chip shop, Adelaide, possibly Grange, choppy day, a block back from the beach, holding a warm bundle of wrapped chips in my arm, having a burst of batter and pineapple in my mouth. Yum! Can't you just taste the sugar grit chasing out the salt of chips, feel the slimey inner white bit of the batter, hear the cars slowing for the roundabout, see the shorts and thongs and pale sky and seagulls?