Porkies Barbque, Bayswater, FTW

porkies barbque bayswater
There’s bound to be a bit of spam coming your way after my recent trip to the grand old sheep station (state) of my birth, Western Australia, but first I need to take a moment to tell you about a little place called Porkies Barbque… and secondly I need some sleep. I really need some sleep. Booking flights back home and forgetting about the three hour time difference resulting in us actually arriving home at ridiculous o’clock, like actually almost the next day, like actually almost just drive straight from the airport to work and just cross a day off the calendar type shit is a very rookie error. Young players, eh.

Yeah, I’m tired. Cut a negro some slack would ya.

I could go on about my pain forever, but this folks is mostly about Porkies Barbque.

So much good shit to choose from
So much good shit to choose from

This place is a little jewel in the crown of the appeal of a trip back to Dubya (WA) and dare I say a shining light in the local barbecue scene. A scene that appears to be booming more than the mining explosion (now that was a pretty fucking worthy pun right there) of the last ten years, more than the high fibre, pre-biotic, legume heavy, dieters’ trouser trumpet, and possibly even more booming than the voice James Earl Jones. Yeah right?

Or maybe it isn’t booming at all and I am once again spoon feeding you ill-informed rubbish from the mystic void that is my brain. Mystic void… shit’s getting creepy now…

The viking banquette hall
The viking banquette hall

Walking into Porkies was like walking into a new age version of a Viking banquette hall… and me likey modern Viking banquette hall very much. Even though there was a very limited supply of drunken wenches to take advantage of, and even more limited tolerance of raping and pillaging in 2016, I found the many options of barbecued goodness and other good things to be a suitable consolation prize. Also, the place was a lot cleaner than a Viking’s banquette hall so there would be no need for a tetanus booster today.

Something I noticed really quickly was the rolls of paper towel on the tables, which believe me was more than a little surprising considering the dodginess of my vision on this day. I was not in good shape, feeling more than just a little bit ill. I blamed a less-than-fresh seafood pasta I had eaten the previous day, Jennee claimed she had not seen be consume any pasta dish on the previous day and instead pointed the finger of blame at the ridiculous amount of alcohol I consumed the night before. I reckoned whatever, I was still very impressed by the rolls of paper towel – this meant there was a good chance things were going to get messy.

No words
No words

And messy they did get. Not quite “giving birth messy”, but messy none-the-less.

We ordered the Sampler for 2 ($59.50) topped up with ½ kg Buffalo Wings ($13.80) FTW*. This platter came with a lot of things you might expect plus more; smoked brisket, pulled pork, pork ribs, chicken breast, jalapeño bread, corn slaw and three sides of your choosing. FYI we chose crispy mac n cheese, baked beans and a mini salad.

Where shall I begin? (This is where I engage my point form skills)

Still no words
Still no words

• The smoked ribs, pulled pork and chicken were amazing. Truly effing amazing. That smoky meaty goodness definitely made my life better that day. The brisket was a little dry and not heaps smoky but still good once lathered in one of the sauces on the table
• About those sauces on the table; bloody fantastic! Sweet barbecue, mustard sauce and hot sauce for your face to get excited about
• The buffalo wings were fucking amazing, crispy little tasty flying things with a touch of spice
• The salads were a little under seasoned, as I’ve decided is often the case with barbecue meat joints (but lets face it, we were there for the meat… it’s not like you go to a brothel and critique the bedside decore is it?), but they had a big assed shaker of seasoning salt on the table so that was easily rectified
• The fried mac ‘n’ cheese was awesome. You can probably make it yourself if you take a look at this recipe from Paul’s Caul right here
• The baked beans were constituted of 4 parts porky goodness to 1 part beans. I see nothing wrong with that
• It came with jalapeno bread, which is quite possibly one of the most genius things ever. I want this stuff in my life. I will make this into my life. It was like I had finally met my long lost child. I will love this bread like it was one of my own… I realise I’m starting to sound a little desperate but I want this bread
• The place even has bottomless soft drink refills and iced tea to wash everything down, but if you like a more alcoholic version of something wet to have with your barbecue, you’ll need to pack that yourself

There you go. Porkies Barbque. Get on it!

The writing was on the wall
The writing was on the wall

*Is FTW an acronym for “for the win”? I asked a young person and they said it was but now I’m not really sure… I’m using it anyway. If it means something different in your world let’s just pretend you know it means “for the win” in mine

Breakfast at a Cafe named Pablo, Newfarm, Brisbane

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This is definitely about Pablo, but first we have a short detour a grab ourselves a coffee at Death Before Decaf – a little 24hr take away coffee joint just down the road. This place is defo worth a look on your way to breakfast… a little bit soup nazi from Seinfeld and a little bit punk rockabilly and a lot caffeinated.

I'd go there for the name and graphic alone...
I’d go there for the name and graphic alone…

…and then it was onto Pablo.

Pablo is normally a Hollywood name for a stereotypical Mexican guy with a moustache and a big hat, but today it is also the name of a restaurant in Brisbane’s Newfarm. Mad.

This place was fully pumping. Just like the pump station at a sewerage treatment plant in Mumbai – seriously effing pumping. People are flowing from its doors out onto the street. It seems that long ago the gentle stream turned into a raging river but, as if they are in cohorts with the man above (or possibly below) they do not seem worried, they do not faulter, it doesn’t seem to make a difference to the service times at all.

This is the back door. You will probably go in the front door
This is the back door. You will probably go in the front door

After a short wait we are taken to a table right next to “the pass” (the bench/shelf that bridges the worlds between front and back of house, and is where the food gets passed from the kitchen to the server), which is coincidentally one of my favourite seats in a restaurant… front row… where the action is at.

We order coffee and it arrives before I have even had a chance to thank the waitress for taking my order. I don’t know what the fuck black magic was in play here – some kind of Rick Moranis in Ghostbusters other world shit for sure – but I was grateful for my morning caffeinated beverage so I questioned not how it cometh, but instead ordered another… and a fresh juice to really check their styles. When the juice hit the table quicker than the coffee I knew something was amiss… there was surely a warlock afoot and we would need to keep our wits about us today that is for sure…

Too many options for me here
Too many options for me here

Sometimes I get a little afraid when I see a menu that has many options that I would be happy to try to break my nightly fast. But, as I am not a cow and I have only one stomach, I need to choose only one item that I will eat. This causes issues that I am sure to eventually over-come, but this day I was experiencing said too-much-good-shit-to-choose-from menu and also said decision making issues that came with it…

I finally decided on the beef and bean chilli (pulled slow cooked beef cheek, bacon, chorizo, speck and black beans with a fried egg, house made corn bread, guacamole and tomato salad, $18) but only because Seba (#1 oldest son) had agreed that he would get the roasted lamb special (slow roasted lamb, pumpkin, beetroot puree, labne, herb salad, fried egg and damper, $18) so we may share. Jen and Obi ordered some stuff but as they were sitting on the opposite side of the table they may as well have been characters living in a magical world in a J.K. Rowling novel because I really cared not for what they may be eating for breakfast and there was no way on god’s green Earth they would be getting a go on mine.

Beef and beans, Genovese coffee and great service made me very happy
Beef and beans, Genovese coffee and great service made me very happy

Our food was delivered in spectacular time, considering (or even not considering) the still unabated flood waters that are the crowds that a good, solid performer in the restaurant industry will command… these guys were the muther fucking Charlie Chaplin of the restaurant scene right now.

We ate, we drank and we were very happy.

The beef and beans number was fantastic; a lot of shredded meat with a few beans, a tasty tasty sauce, great guac and salsa, a perfect fried egg, all the goods. One thing though, the beans were completely covering the corn bread, smothering it’s creativity and not letting it really shine like it could’ve. This is one occasion where a few inches really could’ve made a huge difference – just getting that corn bread a little to the side of the plate and letting it be loved would’ve done it for me.

Oh so good
Oh so good

The lamb was another cracker although, if I’m totally honest, I didn’t really get too much of it into my belly as I was a little pre-occupied with the bean number and Seba appeared to be enjoying plenty fine by himself so that was OK with me.

This was a truly cracking breakfast. If I was wearing knickers I would’ve be happy to throw them to the chef in a display of gratitude, but alas I was not, so it was our verbal thanks that would need to gratify him and her today.

Nice job Pablo.

Pablo, 893 Brunswick St, Newfarm

Humour, Australia Day and Hipster by proxy

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Um, I have a question.

Have people, like the total generalization of the human race, just lost their fucking sense of humour? Did we all just get so damn middle aged and serious? Have we all forgotten how much fun it can be to just have a good goddam laugh at our own selves, or even the small child who might fall over a hit his face on the concrete. Oh how we would laugh; ha ha ha, he he he, and all the while our mouths would be turned upwards, saluting the gods of funny and happy with the technique commonly referred as a smile…

Sam Kekovich being a lambassador
Sam Kekovich being a lambassador

And then this Sam Kekovich bloke comes along as the newly appointed “Lambassador” and champion of the lamb industry this Australia Day (Happy Australia Day PS), and upsets the shit out of the vegans because they don’t like being told to eat lamb. Honestly, they don’t need to eat the lamb. I would go so far as to say please don’t the lamb – I will look after your share without a problem.
Captain Cook got the call up for the Australia Day Lamb Campaign too
Captain Cook got the call up for the Australia Day Lamb Campaign too

Has the time left us when people would not think too far into television advertisements? Or has that time passed when people may have just turned the effing TV off and done exactly what they wanted to do as apposed to thinking that they are obliged to do what the TV tells them? If I tell you the truth, I am more than happy for these peeps to leave the lamb for me. More than happy! And, you know what? If it’s such a huge fucking issue, maybe they should just go and make their own television advert and tell everyone to eat something that isn’t lamb for Australia day; eat some gum leaves or billabongs or something like that and keep it real legit.
I had myself a lamb pie for Australia Day because a guy on the television told me I should
I had myself a lamb pie for Australia Day because a guy on the television told me I should

Which brings me to my next little issue… or whine… or waaaah waaah… or baaah waaaah (that was a bit of a lamby reference for those of you who weren’t paying attention); What about the prejudices against the middle aged, bearded, caucasion male, the weight of the hipster movement, and the rights of the common man to just wear a goddam beard?

Was that a segue? I doubt it. I have not yet seen a real live segue grace these pages, and indeed I do not expect to see one anytime in the foreseeable future.

Anyway, as you may or may not be able to tell, I am pretty effing sick of it (but at least I’ve calmed down enough to stop using the language of the herpes infested salty old sea dog), and I am ready to set this rant upon the world via the interweb super highway and a currently paid up-to-date account with my internet service provider.

If you don’t want to hear about it you should smash your computer now, because I am getting exponentially more confident by the minute…

I mostly blame Jennee, a) because it’s easy, and b) because she was so generous of spirit to point out that I kind of am a hipster by proxy… all except my name. I need a name that’s some kind of hybrid, left field, a surname first name or something from the Victorian era, and I could possibly scrape in with something Scandinavian at the very least. Christianeous, Leonard, Michaelangelo, Matheous…

And what the heck even is this hipster by proxy business I am talking about? Well, plain and simple I’ve just been asked once too often if I am a hipster.

Now I contemplate mowing my facial hair back to reveal the smooth face of a man I used to know and I also contemplate what it is about me that has made it so very simple for peeps to enquire as to whether my religion, or freaking out-look or whatever, is “hipster”…

I will tell you now; look carefully because there are a few key differences. Allow me to demonstrate;

Hipsters have large beards that are perfectly manicured and smell very nice because of the flowers they put in them – I have a large beard that is not manicured even one little bit and it doesn’t necessarily smell the best. Also, at any given moment, it contains enough barbecued meats for a Viking wedding celebration
Hipsters like cold brew, organic, artisan, ethically grown, small batch coffee – I like to drink cold coffee but my preferred method of attainment of said coffee is leaving it on the bench for an hour… so I guess it could be said that I actually enjoy cold stale coffee
Hipsters pay fat wads of cash for minimalistic, pared back design and re-purposed, ethically gathered materials – I fitted a restaurant out with plywood counters and tables because it was all that we could afford
Hipsters have a top knot – I am merely top notch
Hipsterism is on trend – Grazism is not even close to being on trend

So, as you can see, it is not actually that hard for us to be friends. If you cannot see how easy it is for us to be friends then, well, you are probably doing the weekly shopping while wearing active-wear at the moment and I am not actually qualified to help you with those problems and I can only pray that natural selection will take you from me.

Done.

That is my lamb pie, lid lifted and stuffed with mashed potato and mushy peas. Who ever decided this would be a good idea is a fricking genious
That is my lamb pie, lid lifted and stuffed with mashed potato and mushy peas. Who ever decided this would be a good idea is a fricking genious

PS I did eat your lamb in the form of an off-the-hook-good lamb pie from the Southern Queensland institution that is the Yatala Pie Shop. I “floatered” the living shit out of it with mashed potato, mushy peas and a kick-ass gravy that had little bits of meaty goodness in it. Soooo damn good!

Happy Straya Day.

The end.

Lester and Earl… a place to get barbecue and booze at Palm Beach

lester and earl, palm beach, the gold coast
Jennee used the interweb super highway to locate another American style barbecue joint for us to try at the Gold Coast, so indeed we did drive there to consume said smoky sustenance from the hickory tainted pits.

Looking up a Lester & Earl from the carpark out back
Looking up a Lester & Earl from the carpark out back

After what would’ve possibly been a half days journey by horse and cart, we pulled into the exit of the car park and parked our vehicle. The pulling into the exit was not because I am big and tough and don’t even give a fuck, but merely because I wasn’t wearing my glasses and don’t see the very best.

It was now time for me to get excited. Game on.

I will probably return to become great friends with that bar
I will probably return to become great friends with that bar

Now, I’ll let you in on a little moderately widely known fact about me; I get excited by the whole eating experience. Like, really excited. Like, I get excited like the new age hipster who has just found himself a solid supply of organic hand-crafted artisanal rocks to compliment his recycled wooden pallet shabby chic open plan lounge room/bathroom motif. One thing that really does not excite me though, is the new age hipster who has just found himself a solid supply of organic hand-crafted artisanal rocks to compliment his recycled wooden pallet shabby chic open plan lounge room/bathroom motif. Those people cannot be my friend. I fricking kid you not (yeah. Like top knot. Great pun, me) that shit is absolutely rife up here right now… I fear we may need to cull shortly to thin out their numbers purely in the interest of protecting the species as a whole, for soon there will not be enough hand-crafted organic chia seed, kale and tumeric loaves to support the population…

I’m probably going to get in trouble because I said I don’t like something. It’s not very nice if you say you don’t like things. It is generalized, pigeon holed, bigoted malarkey… but I did it… and you may need to prepare yourself for the scenario where I don’t actually recant my comment even one little bit…

But it could probably be said that we are not here today to discuss my uneducated social commentary, but rather to discuss the lunch we had at the comparatively new (compared to say, the beach and shining white sand that are mere meters from its doors) serving-all-things-southern-and-soulful establishment, Lester and Earl.

A bit of the menu
A bit of the menu

To start off with; great name folks. Really good. Now, moving on…
Root beer
Root beer

We were seated and quickly ordered some drinks. I ordered a root beer because I though I was a cowboy. Root beer tastes kinda funny but kinda nice to me, so I drank it all up. There was a bit of confusion with the other drinks but it was all sorted out fairly quickly which is good but… I’ve read quite a few reviews from peeps who weren’t really happy with the service here so maybe writing the orders down as they come from the mouths of the people, even if that’s just for the bigger tables, might be a better start?? Don’t get me wrong, I’m as impressed as the next guy if I can order 8 meals and it all hits the table as requested but, well, that just aint always the case… jus’ sayin’.

We ordered the ass out of what I thought to be a good cross section of what was on offer; beef short rib, pulled pork, buttermilk fried chicken, the American Classic burger, ‘slaw, collard greens and mac ‘n’ cheese.

Some of the goodies we put in our faces
Some of the goodies we put in our faces

See, that is a pretty good cross section.

When we ordered the chicken our waitress apologized and told us the wait was going to be 15 minutes. Her apology would have been better spent on something else worth apologizing about, like maybe her damn cheeriness, because I really didn’t consider that to be a wait. I was pretty sure I didn’t come to lunch at a fast food chain restaurant and I knew for a fact I have taken longer than that for my morning “movement”. Maybe the people are just in more of a hurry up here…

The food came, we ate, and we were happy.

That burger
That burger

The burger was a highlight, as was the smoked short rib and the pulled pork. Pulled pork with Carolina mustard sauce is quickly becoming one of my favourite things in the world… my family is still first though, but pulled pork could take the top spot on a really shitty day though. And I reeeeallllly loved those waffle cut potato things, they made me feel like a child and I want to put them on my own restaurant menu. Fucking tasty, not-every-day-food, fried goodness. Oh, and I almost forgot about the smoked jalapeño and bacon poppers – soooo damn good, but if they were jalapeños the chef must’ve used some kind of spice removal kit on them because, much like a snake playing a soccer match, they didn’t have any kick at all. But, they were just so effing tasty I had to let it slide. The ‘slaw was good with a little Asian influence, and the mac ‘n’ cheese was indeed cheesy and maccy ☺
Mac'n'cheese
The pickles and collard greens were possibly the only thing I didn’t enjoy the heck out of. The pickle was a wedge of onion. Now some things just go together and I NEED some pickles with my barbecue, full stop … it’s kinda like Sunny without Cher, gypsies with out trinkets or a certain Victorian football club without a drug scandal. And the greens? Well they were a little too beef stocky for me. I like them to be a little more chicken stocky and bacon or smoked sausage smoky.
They have refresher towels so you can clean your beard and/or face afterwards. This made me very happy and the rest of the family very less embarrassed
They have refresher towels so you can clean your beard and/or face afterwards. This made me very happy and the rest of the family very less embarrassed

It was still a pretty damn well arranged little symphony that’s fo’ sho.

All in all a damn good lunch in a nice spot over looking the Pacific Ocean and the beaches that stop said ocean from enveloping the Gold Coast. Next time I will try a little later in the arvo so I can get stuck into the bottles of stuff they have at the bar!

Those not-quite-jalepeno-but-still-really-tasty-poppers that I almost forgot about
Those not-quite-jalepeno-but-still-really-tasty-poppers that I almost forgot about

Lester and Earl1097 Goal Coast Highway, Palm Beach

JR’s Smokehouse Barbecue – more than just a smokehouse barbecue… actually, it is totally just a smokehouse barbecue and a damn fine one at that

jrs smokehouse barbecue coolangatta
This has been a long anticipated date for me.

I have been very excited since hearing that Gold Coast to Byron Bay caterer, JRs Smokehouse Barbecue, had moved into their own little shop front in Coolangatta, just an hour up the road from us.

The menu looks a little bit like this
The menu looks a little bit like this

Initially we ventured up here on the wrong days (this place being closed Sunday and Monday) but then we remembered we can actually find out everything we need to know about this place on the world wide interweb which, much like the climax of the female of the species, was no further than a well trained flick of the finger away. We looked at a thing called a web-site, which in turn told us when this holy church of wood smoked goodness would be open, and in turn when barbecue Jesus (AKA Joel) would be turn his body into smoky, smoky brisket, ribs, pulled pork and hot links, and of course his blood into Coopers ale.
All of the good shit plus a little pulled pork
All of the good shit plus a little pulled pork

So, the aforementioned web-site told us that this holy place would be open for lunch on Saturday and the opportunity quickly presented itself so we got our asses and the asses of our children and even enlisted the asses of Jennee’s brother, Queenie, and his family for this evangelical smoky awakening.
My dinner plus beer and home made condiments... you know I love home made condiments
My dinner plus beer and home made condiments… you know I love home made condiments

That chicken... I ate some of that
That chicken… I ate some of that

There's the volcano nachos on the right... I think I ate some of them too
There’s the volcano nachos on the right… I think I ate some of them too

I have point-formed the heck out of my meaty experience just to make this whole thing manageable for myself…

• The brisket was so soft it was melting in my mouth and out of my face and dripping down onto my boobies… well I don’t have boobies but I do have some strange assed fantasies that’s for sure. I am pretty sure I was dribbling a little when I ate the brisket. This was hands down, ripped of and fricking replanted, the best piece of brisket I have ever eaten. Better than mine, better than yours, just damn good.
• The ribs made me feel a little special on the inside.
• The pulled pork with mustard sauce was moist and melty and a little awesomely tangy from the mustard sauce. Mustard sauce and my family are two things I truly love about this world.
• The house recipe hotlink with jalapeno and cheddar was fricking amazing. This was seriously one of the best snags I have put in my face in a long while; popping in my mouth, spurting its cheesy goodness, with just a hint of jalapeno and a whole heap of smokiness. I’m pretty sure that sentence had words in it that are not allowed to go together.
• The chicken tasted like chicken but better because it was covered with smokiness and still moist and delicious on the inside.
• The beans were smoky and had a suspiciously porky looking product in them so they were born to win.
• I was looking for more dressing on the salads, but it would also be true to say that I was certainly not there for the salads. The pickles and home made condiments more than made up for any issues I had there.

This is a place that you should make an effort to get to if you are even remotely into barbecued goodness and with-in range… and when I say “remotely into barbecued goodness” I mean you have a mouth and are any kind of omnivore/carnivore, and “with-in range” is clearly referring to someone who has a mouth and is any kind of omnivore/carnivore (that’s not a typo). Maybe just call ahead or check the interweb for opening hours. Yeah, do that.

JR’s Smokehouse Barbecue, 39-41 McLean St, Coolangatta, QLD

The Empire Café and Burger Bar, Mullumbimby… a really nice place to eat a burger

the empire cafe and burger bar mullumbimby
This place is doing the town of Mullumbimby a service.

It has brought to town a cracking range of burgers so that the local burgerfiles may be satisfied. And I’m sure it has done many other good things for the town to boot – fed a lonely puppy dog or mowed lawns for the elderly or something like that, just because the people who were working in the place seemed like they would do that sort of stuff. They just seemed genuinely nice and like they actually gave a fuck about how your stupid day was going or if you were enjoying your meal. When we arrived at 11am to realise that lunch started at 12, we told them no worries but we would come back in an hour when lunch (and the freaking burgers that I had driven out here to eat) were ready to get into my face, and then do you know what the young lady behind the counter said? Probably not, unless you were one of the three folks sitting along the wall, who had their faces deeply embedded in their laptops… but I don’t think that was you… well, I don’t think it was… Well what that young lady said was this; “You can order off the lunch menu now if you want”. I did want. I did want very much and I was very thankful for the offer. That is certainly something that could be called a textbook definition of hospitality.

The menu looks almost exactly like this
The menu looks almost exactly like this

I feel like I should be taking a bit more piss out of something these folks did, but I gotta tell you, everything about these peeps was just nice. Sure it was starting to seem like they may be part of some kind of alien worshipping cult, but I was going to give their burgers a go none-the-less. I was liking this place a whole heap by now, but it was way past the time that I needed to be finding out if their Grazza McFilthy Mouth winning service was backed up by premium product!

“Zorba the Greek” ($13) for Dr Chris, the boys both ordered “the Wolverine” ($14), I hooked into “the Drover” (the name of a burger. I did not try to hook into the actual drover as he seemed like he wouldn’t really be a broke back mountain type of guy) ($13) and then I grabbed some onion rings and sweet potato wedges ($4 each) for the family… or mostly for myself.

The Wolverine. What a fricking beast!
The Wolverine. What a fricking beast!

“The Wolverine” was indeed a beast that was almost enough to leave a permanent scar on my children… almost. Although it did not come with retractable hand knife things, it did indeed come with a beef pattie, bacon, fried egg, caramelized pineapple, cream cheese, beetroot, tomato and lettuce. This thing stood tall and proud and it was not going to take shit from anyone that’s for sure. I don’t know if I was more impressed with the burger or the fact I had to fight my kids for a bite, but it was damn impressive either way. Truly a beast!

Dr Chris, who you may remember from “I’m not an actual doctor but I’m more than happy to take a look for you” fame, or possibly from the “A Current Affair” exclusive, or even from the fact that he is my dearest Jennee’s birth father, gave his lamb burger the tick of approval, although he said he was yearning for a bigger chunk of meat. Now, I’m not sure if he’d gone totally off-subject or if he was still referring to the meat in the burger but that shredded lamb would’ve done me fine.

Bloody younger generation and their damn trendiness *waves fist in air like crazy old person*

That Drover
That Drover

“The Drover” was perfect. Yeah, I know, that’s what she said. Everything I need in a burger was held between the cheeks of that decent bun; well seasoned beef pattie, bacon, cheese, lettuce, tomato, chilli jam and chipotle mayo. So damn good.

I washed my burger down with the best sweet potato wedges I have quite possibly ever eaten and a few different condiments to lube them up a little for the journey to my belly.

The best sweet potato wedges with the third best onion rings
The best sweet potato wedges with the third best onion rings

OK, the question of everybody’s lips; the onion rings. You know the humble onion ring is a pretty touchy subject around these parts but, well, I’m always going to give them a go. They were OK but they were more of a thick batter ring than an onion ring. I did not send them to the lab for testing but that batter was waaaay to thick for me to find too much onion in there, so they were kind of forgettable which is probably why I kind of forgot about them. I know that you may think that I have some kind of onion ring hex on me with my luck lately, but I’m sure they will come good soon…

I don’t even know how I found out about this place but I’m sure it was an accident. Actually, that is a complete lie. I do know how I found out about this place and I know it was an accident.

The story goes like this; Jennee was scouring the guide for the Mullum Music Festival (a pretty good reason to head to Mullum in itself) when she came across an ad for these guys. She sent me a pic of said ad and then I went here. That is it. I love a short story!

Nom nom chomp chomp
Nom nom chomp chomp

So yes, the Empire Burger Bar has done the little hinterland town of Mullumbimby a very generous service.

Go there so I may sleep well tonight for I have spread the good word.

Empire Café and Burger Bar Mullumbimby