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

Buffalo-esque Chicken Wings

Buffalo wings?

Yes, buffalo-esque wings
Yes, buffalo-esque wings

So what I am doing? Well I may be getting a little drunk with my father-in-law Dr Chris (officially not a real doctor but more than willing to take a look for you)… I know you’re thinking it’s only a Tuesd… no wait, Wednesday, but I have performed all of my fatherly duties for the day; kids lunch boxes are packed up for the morning and all that shit. Oh, and did I mention Jennee (the wiffy) is away at a work conference? No? I probably didn’t, but that is mostly due to the fact that I am hitting the good end of a bottle of wine… and there may have been a few beers in there too. And please don’t tell her I am hitting the keyboard of my new MacBook*tm with greasy chicken fingers. My secret is safe with you right? Right.

So what am I lining my belly with to sort out the imminent intoxication* due to my lack of eating today (yeah that’s right. Even when you work in a professional kitchen sometimes you forget to eat…)? Bufallo-esque type chicken wings (thanks to inspiration from my friend Vincent over at vittlemonster)… seriously, any town drunk could put this together (yeah, I’m really getting back to my roots here)… well, maybe not any town drunk. I’d say it’s well out of the reach of the guy who treks into Maccas with big poo stains down the back of his pants. Or maybe they’re someone else’s pants. Anyhoo…

Dredge the wings in seasoned flour
Dredge the wings in seasoned flour
Cook the wings
Cook the wings
Make sure they are nice and awesome and then roll them through the tabasco butter
Make sure they are nice and awesome and then roll them through the tabasco butter
Eat with beetroot 'slaw and corn
Eat with beetroot ‘slaw and corn

So what do you have to do to eat buffalo-esque wings tonight?

  • Dredge a couple of kilos of chicken wings through some plain flour seasoned with salt and pepper (you’ll work the flour thing out in a minute… hopefully). Splash with oil just like you were a topless girl splashing around bubbles at the “Suds Night” at the local nightclub, and roast at 180C for 30-ish minutes
  • While they are roasting melt some butter (I think I had about 100g but I am basing that on no actual knowledge apart from the fact that it was in my hand… actually, it may have been more like 50g. Maybe not… Fuck it, just put 100g in there) and then add to it heaps of Tabasco sauce. Like a good teaspoon or so. Don’t worry, the butter is going to mellow it out heaps… hopefully
  • Once the chicken is cooked toss it in a bowl with the butter and Tabasco (the flour is now going to help suck up the coating on your chicken wing glory. You’re welcome)
  • Eat it in your face with grilled corn drizzled with the leftover butter and chicken juices, and beetroot ‘slaw (recipe follows)

Beetroot ‘slaw

  • Make ‘slaw how you would normally make except, and this is the clincher, add grated beetroot instead of carrot. That wasn’t too hard now, was it?

*may have already occurred

My big fat feasting long weekend part 2

Part two
There was a game of foosball. Now I don’t much follow the foosball and I don’t much like girls because girls are the devil.

So I decided I would watch the foosball grand final, which is actually pronounced f-o-o-t-b-a-l-l… Apparently… And is also more correctly known as rugby league Queenie has just informed me. And what’s my favorite thing about rugby? Absolutely nothing. Except maybe the food. Buffalo wings with celery and blue cheese sauce, sticky belly (that’s pork belly. Not like man who go to sleep with hand on willy, wake up with jellyfish on tummy-type sticky belly), potato salad, and leftover Lainsys birthday lamb kebabs with smoked eggplant hommus, labne, pinenut tabouleh and some other good shit. And we drank stuff that made our faces smile and our heads feel a little less cloudy. It seemed like it helped us talk better too, but I think this was a fictitious reality.

So the reality of the situation was this. I tried to show interest in the game. I asked questions. I CARED. But that game of football was just as entertaining as I had pre-empted it to be. But, before I knew it, it was over… And I had seen a mere five minutes of the game.

By this stage the kitchen had opted for only it’s A-team (Queenie and I). We prepped salsas and sauces and a heap of other great stuff. God made the beer and wine, and once again, we thanked him for it. Liz, a child of the lord, was given the task of bringing forth said beer.
“…and the Lord said-eth to his disciples rejoice my disciples, rejoice*”, Liz would say.
“K”, we replied.

Queenie manned the frier, maybe with a little more frivolity then these situations normally require. I think he may have been under the influence of some of the holy brew Liz had procured earlier. But we ate, the kid lived and everyone was happy.

This night the ghost of Midnight Drunkard Barney appeared again, dragging himself from peripheral obscurity into the realms of reality, for this time I viewed him with my own eyes. It was closer to midnight when i got up for a little wee and maybe a sip of water. I can’t remember exact details, but the one thing I do remember is that shadowy figure suddenly appearing and offering me a dirty martini. I admit i thought about it for a second or two but my better judgement** told me to move on.

Stay tuned folks, part three to follow.

*I think it is quite possibly becoming clear that we did not actually spend this Sunday held close to the bossom of the Lord.

**a mythical principle in my mind

Bayger Burgers, Byron Bay

Bayger burger joint, Byron Bay

Yep. You see what they did there with the name? Very sneaky. Like little white trash kids sneaking into the big top circus when it rolls through town… Very sneaky indeed.

Bayger is another addition to the ever-growing family of new wave eateries modern society calls “the burger bar”. Local free-range meats, locally baked buns, gourmet salad and home made sauces. Effing awesome. I love this shit.

As soon as I looked at the menu though, I discovered a typo. I continued reading and discovered a few more typos. This annoys me on a menu. On a random assed food blog – that’s fine, but on a menu… People got spell check right? A big brother or sister? Something? (Just in case, I will recant my previous paragraph if I am informed that they are crazy hippies and intended to write “we serve our beef burgers with slightly pink center enchanting the flavour”. I didn’t notice the pink center enchanting the flavour while we were there, but that’s not to say it wasn’t going on…)

Buffalo wings came with no blue cheese sauce, which was kinda disappointing since we were gagging for buffalo wings with blue cheese sauce, and got them because the menu read “buffalo wings… with a side of blue cheese dipping sauce”. But our buffalo wings came with no blue cheese dipping sauce. Maybe should of told us at the start instead of shrugging it off with a “no we don’t have any of that”. But they were good fried chicken wings tossed in sweet chilli.

Onion rings were good. Could have had a slightly thicker batter though.

Burgers were great except they were missing the pickle they were cited as having on the menu. But they were great. Cooked medium, juicy, well-seasoned, squishy soft Turkish bun… Fantastic. Really good burgers just let down a little by small inconsistencies. But this is what I’m always talking about. In the hospitality game, no matter how big your restaurant, or how small your wiener penis willy hotdog stand, you need to have consistency. You need to give people the product you are telling them they will get. And do it well… and then, as Jesus said*, life shall be good for all.

It was, like, 34 bucks for two burgers, fries, onion rings, “buffalo wings”, and a house made juice which tasted like fresh lemon, rose water and sugar? Maybe like a middle eastern home made lemonade. Well and truly worth it if they could just iron out a couple of kinks.

*may not be an actual quote from Jesus.