Chicken nugget type things… made by you… at home

home made chicken nuggets
Here you go. Another easy-assed recipe for the kids to get in and be a part of, and eat the shit out of to boot. Sure it’s fine if you want to feed your kids those stinky shit chicken nuggets from the freezer section at the local supermarket (yeah, the place where the idea of good food goes to die a slow, painful death, with wire in it’s eyes and everything), but just as long as you’re not thinking that you are actually feeding your kids a nice bit of chicken. You need to accept the fact that you are feeding your kids crap – ground up chicken face crap. But I guess it’s still chicken, so that’s why they get to call them chicken nuggets, eh.

It is true I’m not here to tell you how to raise your kids. I’m more the guy that you turn to when you’re in need of a little chuckle, whether that be because you think I’m funny or you’re just laughing at the grasp I just barely have on the English language, either way that’s a win for me.

So if I am not making you laugh today, not making your very funny bone tingle with elation, then may I suggest The Anchorman. No, not that guy in the trench coat who is always at the wharf offering passers by a peek at his anchor tattoo, I would suggest watching the movie “The Anchorman”. That is some really funny shit. No matter how many times I’ve seen that film I still laugh myself stupid (yeah I know, that could be more of a small giggle for the desired result) at Ron Burgundy trying to talk his way out of his massive erection with new reporter, Veronica Corningstone… and everything Brick Tamland says. Everything he says. I feel a little bad because it is mentioned he is slightly less abled in his mental capacity, but it’s Ok because I know that movies are not real – movies, unicorns and good politicians – so I still LOL all over the place. I actually cannot watch this film while eating because I almost spit up my lunch.

Go watch it. Watch it now.

Make heaps of mess crumbing the chicken
Make heaps of mess crumbing the chicken

All crumbed up and looking for a pan
All crumbed up and looking for a pan
Found the pan
Found the pan
And now it's time to find my belly
And now it’s time to find my belly


600g free range chicken breast or thigh, cut into little nugget pieces
Breadcrumbs (crumb a GF loaf if you can’t do the wheat), flour and egg mix to crumb
4-5 large potatoes, scrubbed and cut into chips
Coleslaw and dipping sauces to serve

• This is so simple writing this recipe down hurts me
• To crumb the chicken first coat it in flour, then eggwash and then breadcrumbs. Put it through the egg and crumbs again if you want them super crusty. Put them aside while you get the rest of dinner ready
• Cook the chips or, if you can’t do that by yourself my recipe is here
• Make coleslaw. Once again, my recipe is here
• Shallow fry the nuggets in oil over a medium heat until cooked and golden brown
• Serve it all up with some tomato sauce (ketchup) for the kids and yoghurt with pomegranate molasses for the bigger kids
• Nom nom nom

I found they were complimented perfectly by a fistful of tasty beers, while the boys preferred to wash their nuggets and chips down with more nuggets and chips.

Jennee’s Sunday Spread… BBQ Brisket, Coleslaw and other delicious things


Jennee’s Sunday Spread

Unfortunate circumstances arose (or I guess fortunate really as these circumstances were a new job that would see me able to pay the bills and not yet need to pull out my sexiest red mini skirt and frilly bra to begin my new career in the darkened back alleys of “the meat packing district”) that would see me unable to attend the inaugural Bangalow BBQ and Bluegrass Festival this past weekend. Outwardly damning these circumstances that I had fallen victim to, I felt the calming hand of Jennee on my shoulder. “I will cook you a BBQ all of your very own”, she said. A warm fuzzy feeling enveloped all of my senses as a tear slowly welled in my left eye (surgeons had removed the tear ducts from my right eye after an almost tragic shaving incident in my early teens). “This is why I married that girl”, I said to myself. “She certainly is a top bitch,” self agreed.

That evening, cook a feast is what Jennee did.

The spread consisted of smoked wagyu beef sausages and beef brisket that had been basted with bourbon BBQ sauce, potatoes wrapped in alfoil and roasted in the coals and then served with a heap of garlic butter, chopped salad with blue cheese dressing, home made bread rolls, pickles and condiments and my all time favourite BBQ (or anytime) side dish; the coleslaw.

I could go on quite a rant about coleslaw and how much it means to me if I thought you might be interested. Or maybe I’ll just do it anyway. Self indulgence at it’s very finest right here.

It seems to me, via wiki-pedia and other inter web sites of factual repute, that the Dutch first penned a recipe for modern day coleslaw in the late 1700s (coleslaw derived from the Dutch koolsla; kool – cabbage and sla – salad). There is also reference to the Germans and Polish for their contribution (although I am still not entirely sure what that is), which actually came as a bit of a surprise to me as I was sure it would’ve been an All American barbecue recipe for sure, created by the Yankies just like the nuclear bomb or Coca-Cola except tastier and quite frankly a good thing, as apposed to a terrible weapon of mass destruction. Upon further thought though, I decided it makes lots of sense that this was not a product of the Coca-Cola company and possibly a product of a German-Polish coalition, as that is quite literally how I made my way into existence and hence would explain the love I have for this shredded cabbage salad. I don’t even think love is a strapping enough word. Love is the kind of word one would use when talking about their marital partner or possibly their children, their favourite animal porn web site or even their favourite flavoured ice cream cone at the local Baskin Robins. I think the word that I need to be using is addicted. I am addicted to the consumption of coleslaw with every part of my being. I don’t care what effing season it is, how cold it is or which Queen-of-effing-England is coming for dinner, there is always a place at my dinner table for coleslaw… there may not be enough space for you, but coleslaw can wander in anytime. There is a little plaque with “coleslaw” engraved on it, much like what you would see at the parking space of a company president and yes, it is a tow-away zone. There’s no way the potato salad or tabouleh is going to get to sit there, just on the off chance the coleslaw might show up!

Oh smoky brisket, how I love thee
Oh smoky brisket, how I love thee


Don't worry 'slaw. I love you too
Don’t worry ‘slaw. I love you too
Smoked wagyu sausages
Smoked wagyu sausages
Fresh from the oven
Fresh from the oven
Brisket and coleslaw roll with garlic butter potatoes from the coals
Brisket and coleslaw roll with garlic butter potatoes from the coals


½ a medium cabbage, finely shredded
1 carrot, grated
Enough good quality mayonnaise to coat ‘slaw to your liking
A splash of apple cider vinegar
• Combine all ingredients in a large bowl and mix well. Check and adjust seasoning if necessary

BOURBON BBQ SAUCE (inspired by Al Brown)

¼ cup oil
2 brown onions, diced
5 cloves garlic, chopped
1 tablespoons salt
1 teaspoon ground pepper
A pinch chilli flakes
2 tablespoons cumin seed, roasted and ground
1 tablespoon smoked paprika
½ cup bourbon
½ cup brown sugar
1x 400g tin crushed tomatoes
2 tablespoons tomato paste
1 cup apple juice
¼ cup Worcestershire sauce
1 teaspoon Tabasco sauce
• Sauté onion and spices in the oil until soft
• Add all other ingredients and cook out over low heat for 45 minutes or so, until thick, stirring regularly to avoid burning and fusing to the base of the pot
• Blitz and check seasoning
• Baste that over your next piece of barbecued meat or your girlfriend’s thighs for some cracking results!!
• Whatever you have left over will last for a couple of months in the fridge

So that’s me done. Jennee’s BBQ was a hit. The smoky BBQ brisket was off the hook, the coleslaw made me weak at the knees, the potatoes, the blue cheese dressing, the rolls… damn, this was a fucking impressive feed.

Wooli part 6… the Wooli Oyster Po’ Bo’


Today I set about redeeming myself before the Oyster Gods for my lack of successful consumption of the exotic bivalve mollusc they had so generously laid before me yesterday… and this time I have come with a plan and a secret weapon.

We have decided we will be having oyster po’ bo’s… or as the boys like to call them; oysters burgers. That’s fine with me, as long as a receptacle of glutinous origins shall be transporting some fried oysters to my face, possibly aiding in the cause will be some coleslaw. But it is the oysters I am concerned about for now.

Enter the smoked chilli powder.

I shall be liberally dusting this smoked chilli powder, which I have made quite simply by chucking some long red chillis into the smoker for about 20 minutes and then grinding them into a powder, over my fried oysters as soon as they emerge from their exfoliating and rejuvenating 180C burning hot oil bath. Cunning, yes. Cunninglingus, no. Sometimes, as a parent, you need to pull a few little tricks out to ensure to get your share… or a share… or just some table scraps like a jester in the kings court. I’m just scared of the day they pass Chilli Appreciation 101…

Crumby photo. Bahaha
Crumby photo. Bahaha
The exfoliating and rejuvenating oil bath
The exfoliating and rejuvenating oil bath
Soooo good
Soooo good
I would do this again
I would do this again


Per sandwich
1 bun
6 oysters
Bread crumbs*, egg and flour for crumbing
1-2 slices prosciutto or speck
Fennel coleslaw (coleslaw just how you normally make it but with some slice fennel in there too)
Smoked chilli powder
Oil to shallow fry
Chips to serve
Flairy holiday shack plates to serve on

• Crumb oysters by first dredging in flour, then through beaten egg mix and then through the bread crumbs
• Heat oil in a pan over medium heat. Once oil is hot, fry oysters for 1 minute or so each side, until golden. Remove from pan and drain on kitchen paper or your mum’s best shirt
• While oysters are draining discard most of the oil from the pan and then fry prosciutto until crisp
• Put some coleslaw in your bun, followed by oysters, prosciutto and smoked chilli powder or hot sauce
• Serve with oven chips

OVEN CHIPS (sides for 4 or a full white trash meal for 1)

6 medium potatoes skin on, washed if they need a bath, cut into 1cm chips
• Blanch potatoes in boiling water for 2-3 minutes. This makes them better, trust me. Strain and allow to cool
• Put on an oven tray, splash with however much oil your fancy diet will allow and season generously
• Bake at 200C for 25 minutes, tossing regularly
• Serve with your po’ bo’

*if you want to make your own bread crumbs, which I generally do, and you don’t have a food processer handy, which I did not bring to the holiday shack, use a stale loaf (or frozen works well) and grate it to fulfill your dreams

Happy birthday to me

Today is my birthday.

Last night I got enough beer into my belly to give me one hell of a head ache. I quite literally feel like I did get older last night. The boys were up at 5:30am (yeah, there’s a 5:30am now) hiding my presents which in turn meant that I was up shortly after, questioning what ungodly soul would make a 5:30 in the morning on a mans birthday. One’s birthday should include a clause that omits times like that and possibly moves straight onto a 9:30 or even 10:00. Was it the Myans? I told myself right there and then that I would investigate further…

I guess I should start at the beginning.

Yesterday I invited a few friends over for dinner and quite possibly a drink or two. We cooked an absolute cracker of a meal, and when I say “we”, what I actually mean is that I put the pork in the oven when I left for work. It would be correct to say that even our friend Scotty did more work than me. Jen had him rolling tortillas like a small Mexican grandmother by the time I got home from work, but that’s what you’d expect if you rock up to a birthday dinner at 1:30pm… at least 3 hours early, right? Claiming ignorance, or stupidity, or something? But the best I could figure is this was only going to benefit my situation. With the preparation for the meal all but complete, I could get started on a crispy cold birthday drink. On with the day.

It was my birthday and I felt not even a small urge to shed a tear.

And that, my friends, is where the details start to get a little sketchy. Photo diary from here I think.

Greg tried to camouflage    himself with the table cloth. Chameleon skills
A lovely afternoon for some corn chips and salsa. Greg tried to camouflage himself with the table cloth. Chameleon skills
Too many good things on one table; 12 hour shoulder of pork with beer and spices, chicken mole, red rice, corn with cheese and chilli powder, home made tortillas, guacamole, pickled 'slaw, salsas, pickled chilli... some recipes will follow
Too many good things on one table; 12 hour shoulder of pork with beer and spices, chicken mole, red rice, corn with cheese and chilli powder, home made tortillas, guacamole, pickled ‘slaw, salsas, pickled chilli… some recipes will follow
Emma is going to be happy with this one. She's been keen for a mention/photo/song dedication on this blog for a while. She's on the left with her "I'm in the photo" face on
Emma is going to be happy with this one. She’s been keen for a mention/photo/song dedication on this blog for a while. She’s on the left with her “I’m in the photo” face on
There it is folks
There it is folks


Finish the night with a croquembouche so every body knows you're a boss
Finish the night with a croquembouche so every body knows you’re a boss

Right now all I have left are the memories of a swell night of eating, drinking and all round merriment, a cracking headache and a brand spanking new MacBook. So I’m going to go out on a limb and see if I can predict how the day shall go from here; I will lay in bed or possibly on the couch. No, let’s do bed today and then I can really look like a little girl, I will watch some cooking shows, eat more of last nights dinner, drink some coconut water because I am convinced it has the power to make me feel better, have a little snoozey, try to write some witty words that will camouflage themselves cunningly inside my brain so I can’t find them, then I shall repeat this scenario until I come good. Hopefully that will be today. The big problem for me seems to be that as soon as I start to feel a little better, a little more like I could possibly conduct a legible dialogue, or maybe that I should get up and go and give those carnies a damn good flogging, the bloody thing is back. BAM! In the face like a bitch. Like the woman scorned she demonstrates her wrath upon me, and like a bad acid trip it just keeps coming back around again. And it’s only bloody 10am.

I truly have to get on with my tasks for the day…

But before I do that I think that I’ll check my facey, see how popular I am and all that and this is what greets me. A message from my mate Jaz. It made me smile and it is what I shall leave you with today; “Happy birthday Graeme! I’m glad I know you because you’re Graeme, but also because you’re ginger and its my goal in life to know as many gingers as I can. Thanks for being my friend and being ginger hehe”…

Fathers Day and a bounty of bacon

Bacon roses are my favourite flowers ever
Bacon roses are my favourite flowers ever

This past Sunday was Fathers Day. I’m not sure if that shit has gone viral and all of the world does it or how it works so if I am stating a really obvious fact maybe, before you start writing your local MP about some ignorant dick from outback Austraaaalia, just chill the fuck out, sit back in your comfy chair with a nice big pile of 1970’s midget porn and a bottle of your mums best hand moisturiser and sort yourself out. And just remember; I don’t care if you think I’m stupid because you’re ugly and at least I can fix stupid… wait… errrr… ugly… umm… stupid can’t be fixed can it? Dammit!

So Fathers Day it was and I arrived, a year since we last celebrated this occasion, with two children still intact and accounted for. Magic. Always a good start.

They showered me with hand written cards stating that I was the best dad ever, and also and array of bacon based paraphernalia. What more could a man want? What’s that? A slap a dinner of pork belly with coleslaw and potato salad? Sure thing. That sounds like a truly effing great fitting finish to a great day. Which leads me, somewhat poorly, into a short story about my friend bacon.

Roast pork belly. Check
Roast pork belly. Check
My favourite sides. Check
My favourite sides. Check
Plate, fork, face. Check! Let's get this show on the road
Plate, fork, face. Check! Let’s get this show on the road
Jennee even made a Vienetta type thing because that's Dr Chris' favourite dessert
Jennee even made a Vienetta type thing because that’s Dr Chris’ favourite dessert
Bacon things to make my face smile
Bacon things that the boys picked out. Damn well love those kids


It was a glorious day for all humanity the day that bacon was discovered, fantastic for the people but not so good for the pig. The pig was most likely previously left to its own devices, maybe even living amongst the human man as a companion, a friend. Maybe the pig was named Arthur. They would read books, go out for coffee and go for long walks on the beach together. At the time it was harmless fun but this seemingly harmless leisure time activity would spell the end for the ungodly relationship between man and pig and the beginning of breakfasts of bacon and what would become its new best friend, the egg. Lunches of bacon butties, crisp bacon in salads or maybe a nice steak wrapped in bacon. And dinner? Well dinner my friends, was more of the same. Yes it was unfortunate for our porcine friends that they had begun to “cure” themselves after many swims in the salty ocean “brine”. Then drying off the pig had inadvertently started to “cook” itself after falling asleep under the midday sun. The poor piggy awoke to the horrible shock of his longtime friend, Geoffrey, slicing him up for mans first bacon feast.

Since that day bacon has fed kings and queens, porters and paupers, white, black, jungle bunny and gigolo. It has bridged the language gap and crossed cultural borders, wars have been reasoned and solved with the help of a slice of bacon in the belly, many pages of the history books of the world have been written with pen in one hand and bacon in the other, bacon has been buried in time capsules and sent to the furthest reaches of our known universe in the hope that it will attract alien interest and to prove to them that we have some kind of intelligence going on.

In conclusion I would just like to say bacon is really good.

I like bacon and my children.

Thank you.

Ham Steaks with honey an’ shit


When I was a young lad (although I did get told I was still a young lad today… Granted it was by a sixty-something-year-old. I guess that shit is comparative to your current situation. What evs)… Anyway, when I was a child once a week we would have ham steaks with pineapple for dinner. Whoa. Settle down now. That’s not what I’m making tonight. I can remember it vividly though; a thick round of over processed meat that, for the purpose of this exercise, shall be known as ham, pan-fried and topped with a ring of “Golden Circle” pineapple. We loved it. I think we may have been carnies in the early years… Suppressed memories? Could be. Blatant denial? Probably. Just didn’t happen? Most likely. But that’s just how my story telling goes. Always back to the carnie…

So tonight I cook ham steaks. Kind of Christmassy really. Yeah, have this for Christmas lunch. I dare you! But I’m doing them with the best ham I can find at the butcher up the road (pretty glad right now that he does a really really good ham), the pineapple can eff off just because its not really my thing and I’ll serve it with apple slaw. You just can’t escape slaw at Foodisthebestshitever 90210. Slaw and a whole heap of randomness. I don’t even know if Pauly is a fan of slaw. He might secretly hate my posts for it… Something I’ll learn to live with I guess.


The slaw (get this done before you even start the ham)
1/4 drumhead (big green) cabbage, shredded as fine as your little hands can shred it. A mandoline is good for this…
1 carrot, grated
1 apple, grated (granny smith would be my choice (that’s an apple PS. Not a perverted sexual preference))
1 bulb of fennel, shredded (I didn’t have one today but I have it on good authority ie. me, that it will work great guns. I did manage to steal a few baby fennel fronds from our garden though)
1tablespoon apple cider vinegar
Enough homemade or good quality mayonnaise to coat it to your liking. I am the mayonnaise nazi remember?
• Mix all ingredients quick smart so your apple doesn’t oxidize (turn brown)


The ham
1 lump of ham, sliced thick like your step father
1-2 tablespoons of honey
• Lets douse that ham in honey and fry it up. 2-3 minutes each side on a med-high heat
• Now that’s a ham steak
• Remove the ham from the pan and add two tablespoons of water to the caramelised honey. Add another tablespoon of honey too, if you’re keen
• Warm through just to make a nice sweet glaze
• Sauce up your ham and eat it in your face


And next up… our roving reviewer, Liz McGuiness*

*May not be her actual name (Defo isn’t her actual name. Sounds pretty good though, eh)