Brianf has been travellin' with work and that means lots of meals in hotels, cafes and restaurant visits and I'm guessing he's becoming a bit of a culture vulture and a gourmet critic when it comes to American cuisine. I think he's moved on from squab stew (yes I had to look that one up in the dictionary). We have a standing joke about him not eating enough veg and downing entire pizzas with cheesy crusts . . . then feeling vomitous. He doesn't approve of pineapple on pizza or beetroot on hamburgers . . . you know Americans . . big servings of stodgy food. He would disagree but that was certainly my experience in LA, limited as it was. But as usual, I digress . .
I loves me food. I mean I really loves me food - good food that is - not necessarily big helpings but if I go to a restaurant, I want something that I can't be bothered cooking myself and without being too big headed, I'm not a bad cook so it has to be more than filet mignon or pepper steak. I like 'towers', things that take a long time to prepare or look pretty.
I'm not a junk food eater although last night I did succumb to BBQ ribs while DrummerBoy ate one of his weird Pizza combinations, something meaty drizzled with pesto and sweet chili sauce (the boy's a mutant). The ribs however were fantastic but not something you eat at a restaurant. There are some things that have to be eaten in the privacy of your own home due to the fact that drizzles of stuff end up on your shirt and you suddenly become very attractive to dogs and you have to resort to using Napisan long after the babes are out of nappies (I did use real ones with my little angels, not the environmentally disfunctionaly disposable type) in order to remove the unremovable orangy marks that result from BBQ sauces and soy. So folks, only attempt these at home:
Soy honey chicken wings. Love em. My kids hate anything with bones in it or 'chunks' of meat so I don't often get the opportunity but five or six honey soy soaked bony boys are delish. Wipe fingers on back of tracky daks when finished.
Ribs. I have a friend who marinates pork ribs on the bone in Coca Cola. I had the 'eeeuuuwwws' when I first heard about it but seriously, it tenderises the meat and gives it a sweet, sticky coating when barbecued that's just delicious. Again, not to be eaten in public. Invariably, they're devoured at home whilst wearing a white or pale pink T shirt which challenges the anti-stain commercials. Oops, nearly forgot the hyphen.
Crab. Never eat crab in public. The juicy bits spit out at the table next door where the guy is just about to propose and has placed the ring in a glass of pink sparkly when he is hit by a gob of 'mustard' from a wayward carapice. But Queensland Mud Crab . . .they're huge, sweet, messy and gently cooked in chili, garlic, black beans and soy are to die for. Crays, yabbies and scampi fall in the same category if served in the shell.
Chocolate Brownies: I mean the super gooey ones that you make at home and daub with sour cream and dark chocolate topping . . . they will invariably break while being eaten due to the fact that you can't wait for them to properly cool. The offending chocolatey toppingy bit which has been a little too generously sploshed rolls down the front of the same white or pale pink T shirt and lands on the floor, making a 5 year old labrador very, very happy . . .she doesn't know that chocolate aint good fer dawgs. Another garment fit only for the Napisan bucket.
BBQ Green Prawns in Chili . . these are raw green prawns, marinated then lightly cooked in soy and chili in the shell. Same issue as the crab. Just as you break the head off, you catapult some of the mustard into your beau's eye. He screams because it's hot and bearing a chili missile. The whole thing ends in lots of eye bathing, prawns going cold and a red faced would be lover deciding that you're cuisine is too dangerous to deal with so he'll go out with someone who serves safe meat and three veg. It's hard to be blinded by a pea. Although my nephew once stuck one up his nose and got a nasty ENT infection . . .
Pork Crackling: You know, the crispy skin from a well roasted leg or loin. Lovely but sometimes so hard it resembles a roofing tile and no matter how sharp the cutlery, a shard manages to ricochet across the room and usually land in the host's Reidel glass filled with Grange Hermitage. Very embarrassing and you've not only managed to ruin his $50 glass of red but also duplicate the spatter effect normally reserved for the scene of an axe murder.
OK not a tag but . . being largely Al Fresco eaters from October to March . . (dogs pick up the bits that fall on the floor so outside is a safe venue) . . I'm interested in your anecdotes of embarrasing dining experiences . . . and thanks Bri for the inspiration . . I had nothing.