Breakfast at a Cafe named Pablo, Newfarm, Brisbane

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

Boy’s night at our place

It’s just me and the boys so we’re having a steak

Tonight is boy’s night at our place. That means no girls allowed! I am excited. We get to eat steak and lay around on the couch in our undies. Let all of our hair down. Yeah, who needs girls anyway? Yeah, go away smelly Jenny…

This is after an hour of medieval forces banding together against me this afternoon.

The events that transpired…

What a great time to start writing a post this was. I was stuck on the side of the road in the middle of the ass end of a place that used to be (this may or may not be an exaggeration), with a flat battery in my car… not my phone because that would not render me incapable of movement. Although it may do to a large % of teenagers these days…

What? I thought to myself. I can’t leave my head lights on indefinitely? I was just hanging out, playing a bit of drawfree, and waiting to pick my kids up from the bus.

Look at me now. I’m sitting here scribbling on a bit of old toilet paper I found in the bushes. The kids were going to play handball in the back of the CRV but they discovered a spew that Max (the dog) had done in there earlier today. I wish I had a stash of moonshine inside my door lining. Hmmm… I’ll be back in a minute. Nope. Nothing. Excellent. Now I may have to go and search for firewood so we may stay warm and cook our new “boys night dinner” of foraged berries and grubs…

I hope Jenny gets here soon to give us a jump start…



We have 3 pieces of exactly 200g scotch or ribeye steak (this will vary for the amount of boys you have in your fam. Maybe get a couple of extras for the ones you “may have” sired so you have an extra one or twelve for yourself).

Marinate your steaks in olive oil, parsley, rosemary and thyme, garlic and salt and pepper. Set aside for 20 minute while you cook the potatoes.

When the potatoes are almost ready heat a splash of oil in another pan over a high heat. When it’s hot put your steaks in. 2 minutes either side should be perfect (Unless you like your steak well done. In which case you shouldn’t be eating steak). Remove the steak from the pan and rest in a warm spot while you make the sauce. You should be frying your eggs about now, too.

Wine sauce
Add a tablespoon of flour to the pan that has all of the awesome steaky little caramelised bits in it. Stir quickly with a whisk and then add a glass of red wine (the one you have in your other hand will be fine) and keep whisking. Add the resting juices from the steak and a splash more wine if it needs to be a bit looser. Heheh. I guess a sauce is quite like a young lady in some ways…

Scrub some potatoes and cut them into wedgey sized chunks. Blanch them in boiling water or steam* them in the microwave for 5-6 minutes.

Now pan fry them with a splash of oil, over a medium heat for 15 or so minutes, until they’re cooked on the inside and nice and golden and crispy on the outside. When yer ‘tatoes are just about ready, slice a few onion rings into the pan. Season and cook for a few more minutes. Potatoes are your bitch once again…

Take your potatoes and onion out of the pan and whack a little more oil in there and, do yourself a favour and add a good knob of butter to. This is to cook your eggs…

Once the butter in the pan starts to foam, it’s time for the eggs to be fried. Crack them in there gently, and as close to the surface as you can. This way you get a nice, undamaged fried egg. Unlike my son Seba, who cracked his egg with his fist and then chucked it into the pan from a foot away. Put some seasoning on your eggs because eggs, just like potatoes, are one of those things we cook that really likes to be seasoned. It’s like a morning shower in the middle of winter for them. Rain that salt on down on me…

Plate up
Hopefully you have some kind of cooking coordination and can get this all finished within a few minutes of each other. Plate it up, put a bit or rocket and parsley on there (You may be excused for thinking I use a lot of parsley and rocket in my cooking right now because I do. I have a garden full of them and quite frankly, I love them. Yeah, I’m thinking about marrying them already), or don’t because it’s boys night so you don’t have to eat your greens if you don’t want to. I do though. Hi Jen.

*to steam “stuff” in the microwave put your “stuff” into a bowl with a splash of water in the bottom, cover well with cling wrap, and microwave.

lambs fry and bacon

Lambs fry and bacon for breakfast. Who would have ever thunk it? It’s the type of meal that you eat and you actually feel like a farmer or a truckie or some other stereotype who might eat a lot of meat for breakfast..

Today was my first time, and I gotta admit, I was a fan.

Lamb’s liver, bacon, heaps of onion, worcestershire sauce, fresh tomato and a fried egg. May not sound of even look that appetizing but I think you should give it a go.

I’m gonna work on this one. See if I can’t pretty it up a bit…