Another day, another breakfast in Balmain. Yes, it's tough being between houses and having all your frying pans tucked away in boxes. I forget which day it was, but we had a feed at a place called "our place". It must have been the weekend, as it doesn't open for breakfast before 10am or 11am on weekdays - whatever time it opens, it is way too late for me. I arise, I feed. Or more succinctly, the sun rises, I arise, I feed. I'll leave the sleeping in business to the teenagers.
Every now and then I like to tuck into a stack of corn fritters, preferably with some very crispy bacon stacked on top, something green like avocado or spinach, and something moist and tasty to go with it like sour cream or sweet chilli sauce or a home made salsa.
"our place" did something along these lines, although they fiddled with the fritter recipe by adding sweet potato or pumpkin - something orange anyway. I'm not sure whether it came with bacon, but the menu definitely said "salsa". I am a fan of all things chutney like and salsa-ish. Something chunky and tasty and preferably made according to momma's recipe in the kitchen out the back, or even better, made by momma at home and shipped over to the cafe once a week in big fuck-off jars.
So there I am, nursing my coffee and anticipating my salsa, when my plate arrives with a stack of fritters, some chunks of avocado circled around the fritters and some splashes of red stuff spread around the edge of the plate. I look around expecting the waiter to plonk down a little pot or saucer of salsa, but he fucks off back to the kitchen and shows no signs of returning with something chunky. Apparently the thin smear of red stuff around the edge of the plate is "salsa". Sorry, pardon me for breathing, but isn't salsa supposed to be chunky? Yes, for all I know it might mean 'sauce' in some wog language, but back then, sauce was not made with electric blenders. Blenders make a puree. Throwing tomatoes into a pot with other chopped up stuff and herbs and spices and vinegar ans sugar etc makes a lumpy sauce. At least it is lumpy when I try to make it at home. Besides, I have never seen a salsa that I can actually see through. A salsa should be thick enough that you can stack it up into a pyramid a few inches tall and all that runs out of it is a bit of fluid - but the chunks should hold their shape.
The chunks should hold their shape - sounds like a really wierd type of vomit.
So what the hell, I collect my wits, pick up the knife and fork and attack the fritter, after vigorously rubbing it around in the 'salsa'.
Fuck me! It's not home made salsa - it's Tabasco! Nearly tore my head off! I had the equivalent of about 9 bloody marys in one mouth full.
Lying pricks. Why couldn't they say, "Fritters, served with Tabasco, thoughtfully purchased from our local Woolies". I can put up with over the top advertisements for cars and things, but I think that a menu should be a bit closer to the truth.
That aside, it was a good feed. I've also had the big breakfast there and that is also a good feed. The big breakfast looked pretty dodgy when it came out - there was a certain look to it that screamed carelessness at me. I can tell when a cook has carefully put together a plate of food - someone who cares about the aesthetics - and someone who just slaps it down and hooks it out. The big breakfast looked like it had been plated by a prison chef who was more accustomed to heaving out grits, but it tasted bloody good. I was very pleasantly surprised. It is the first place that I have been to in a long time that served breakfast sausages that I actually wanted to eat. Most of the time, I have a bit of one and ignore the rest. Cafe cooks are trying too hard with the sausages, or not hard enough.
There's something about a breakfast sausage that makes it a very peculiar animal. It's quite different to a lunch time sausage or a dinner sausage. I like something that is not too spicy - I don't need a rush of chilli or pepper first thing in the morning (but bring it on at lunch), but not too bland. It shouldn't be too thick and heavy, as you don't want to start the day feeling like a bloated hippo. It should go well with egg. It should taste nice with coffee. Those are hard parameters to work with. If you are having a BBQ and everyone is drinking beer, you can server just about anything wrapped in bread and covered in sauce (or salsa) and it will be scoffed. In triplicate. However, breakfast is another matter entirely. Many tastes just do not go down well with coffee. Or egg. Our Place seemed to get it right. Just about every other place I have been lately has fucked it up beyond belief.
The search for the perfect sausage. Is it a lifelong quest, or is it the title of a porno film?
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