Bangers and mash with Paddy’s Day colcannon and Guinness gravy

That time there was leftover colcannon and Guinness gravy from St Patricks day so I decided I would put some sausages on the grill with some carrots and turnips and swedes wrapped in foil so that my family may have some kind of bangers and mash for our evening meal.

You may not have any Guinness gravy left… and you probably don’t even know what colcannon is… that’s going to be OK. We’ll make some especially for it because let’s face it, bangers and mash deserves it.

Bangers and mash is good solid comfort food. Please though, do not confuse it for a big warm sausage-y, potato-y food hug – that is something that really shouldn’t exist in writing and/or real life. Case closed.

When you need* to make bangers and mash a good start is getting onto some decent sausages. The snags in the pic were provided by one of our many neighbourhood purveyors of meaty goodness – Cromwell Farms. Also worthy of note is that the herbs that go into said snags also come from the same farm.

With that foundation of good sausage we can build upwards towards the heavens with mashed potato, gravy and some other vegetable of your choosing… although it’s nearly always peas… not today though.

Hey ho, let’s go (defo a Ramones quote).

It was raining but I didn’t even care because I had my Pro Q Excel 20 (R2smoketoo) on the verandah.

Smoky, grilly sausages.
Gravy in the pot, vegetables in the foil packs.

That spread. Effort is pretty low for a pretty high yield of tasty goodness.

BANGERS & MASH (serves 4)

8 thick sausages, grilled or pan fried or baked
salt and pepper
Colcannon, vegetables and Guinness gravy to serve

Cook the sausages and serve with the other things.

I can’t believe I’m trying to write a recipe for this.

COLCANNON (serves 4)

Sauté 2-3 cups of sliced cabbage and ½ sliced onion in butter and a splash of oil until softened and just starting to brown. Season with salt and pepper.

Stir through enough mashed potato for 3 people (I know it says this is for 4 serves though… the sautéed cabbage will make up that extra serve for you… I’ve got your back on this one).


Make gravy exactly like you normally make it.

If you normally use chicken or beef stock you can replace half of that with Guinness.

If you use water and a packet gravy mix you can replace half of your water with Guinness.

Pretty easy.

* Bangers and mash is something that you can need. When you have an itch for bangers and mash, that itch can only be satisfied with bangers and mash. Fact.

Get that business in your face!

Bavarian Bier Cafe, Eagle Street Pier – a wunderbar eating experience

*This is a shitty photo alert*
*This is a shitty photo alert*

The first thing I noticed was the heat. It was going to be a warm one today. It was already being a warm one today and I was kind of a little unhappy with the 24hr air conditioning at Queenies house (Jennee’s brother and our host for the weekend) that was fooling my brain into thinking the celsius was actually hovering somewhere at or under the 20C mark… Silly, silly brain. That brain o’ mine really needs to be a little more on point than that, I mean, if it’s going to make all of the important decisions around here.

So it was hot, I dealt with that.

Secondly, the whole of the Brisbane CBD 20-to-30-something-old male office crew seemed to be divided as to whether it was the light baby blue shirt or more of a pastel salmon pink shirt that was to be decreed office uniform for 2016.

I was rooting for the pastel salmon pink myself.

Thirdly, I was really, really hungry as I had skipped a proper and complete breakfast in favour of an extra coffee in preparation for the sausage fest that would be ensuing this midday (not that kind of sausage fest – I would have needed at least a complete and proper breakfast to get my energy levels and longevity up if I was going to be rocking that kind of sausage fest), so it came to pass that I should move away from the street corner and stop with my pointless observations so we may go and fill our bellies with a big fat pile of steamy German sausage (once again, not that type of sausage) and, to a lesser degree, some kind of soured cabbage product and a hopsy, malty type beverage or two.

I'm pretty sure this is compulsory for your first time on a pretzel
I’m pretty sure this is compulsory for your first time on a pretzel

We were keen. The waitress came to get our drinks order and we hit her with the lot.

NB It is also worthy of note right here that our waitress was quite a pretty young German lass, no piggy tails or ridiculously over-ample bossom, but German none-the-less, and if this is the type of effort these Bavarian Bier Café folks are willing to put in, searching the globe for the right candidate etc, then I was certainly going to allow myself to be very impressed and even compliment them on their attention to detail.

Really tasty home made preztels
Really tasty home made preztels

The pretzels ($4.5ea) hit the table, neck and neck with our first round beers. Pretzels are good, and so is beer. Fact.

Next up the waitress arrived with our meals – a pretty good idea on her behalf because the beer on an empty stomach thing was doing nothing to subdue my pangs of hunger.

Our table quickly filled up with pig and pig products, cabbage-y things, potatoes and more beer – everything would expect from a Bavarian Bier Café. I was certainly stereotyping the heck out of these people by now, but they are my people so I felt it was OK.


The Sausage Tasting ($28) was so full of sausages it looked like Ian “Huey” Hewitson, or possibly the fat German kid from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, was still holding my plate. All the while I could not decide weather I was thinking more about the fat guy (I know it’s not PC but it certainly is the truth) sausage fingers or the scene from “Freddy got Fingered” when Tom Green makes the sausage mobile. “Daddy would you like some saus-sage. Daddy would you like some saus-sage-ges?”

Needless to say I gobbled the shit out of a heap of sausages this day and I loved every goddam second of it. All of that sausage gobbling did not even bring back one single bad memory of waking up on the wharf with a pocket full of fivers and hair gel all through my beard… There were a couple of sausages that were my favourites but at the end of the day I kinda got caught up in the heat of the moment and before I knew it there was a flurry not dissimilar to that of Cookie Monster on Sesame Street, some gnashing of teeth and the sausages and sauerkraut and mashed potato with beer sauce and mustard were all gone.

Definitely one of the tastiest knuckles I've been hit with in a long time
Definitely one of the tastiest knuckles I’ve been hit with in a long time

So then we moved onto the pork knuckle.

Along with the Volkswagon, this half pork knuckle ($27) was another true triumph of German ingenuity; crispy on the outside, moist and tender in the middle, and served with some more tasty potato and cabbage products, and apple compote. Tasty shit.

We had no space for dessert so we were out of there to wander a-little-bit-pissily through the streets of Brisbane.

All in all a great job by the Bavarian Bier Café. Wunderbar!

Jennee’s Sunday Spread… and I’ve got no quarrel with Monday

I got no quarrel with Monday. I know people who don’t like Monday at all and would smile if they saw it shot dead in the dusty street of an old western town.

Me, I’m like, “Monday what the fuck is going on my brother/sister?” (I haven’t decided on the anatomy of Monday yet)

“Not much white boy”, says Monday, sounding much like an African American stereotype from a 90’s comedy. “What’s doing with you?”

“Just growing a beard and shit,” I would say. “Coming off the back of a fully sick weekend. Ate lots of really good food and drank a couple of tasty tasty beverages and hung out with a bunch of good kents*. Good times all ‘round. I’m not going back to work until Wednesday either, so I’m just going to relax into this whole “new week’ thing.”

“Nice steez”, say Monday. I carry on as if I didn’t hear him/her though, as I am not actually sure what “steez” means.

I return to the couch where I reflect on the conversation that I have just had with a day that I have turned into a weird, androgynous, Chris Rock-esque type character. I decide there is nothing strange going on here. I have nothing but the sound of my cousin, Amelia, vacuuming in the background as the sound track my normality. On a side note, if Amelia ever asks you if she might stay for a while, I would suggest that your reply would be a clear “yes”. She is an absolute dream to have about. She is at least as OCD as Jennee with her cleanliness, even down to the arrangement of the cushions on the couch. And to top it all off, she doesn’t smell at all. You probably don’t know Amelia though, rendering this information I have just conveyed to you useless.

Suck it.

Burgers, sausages, oven chips and a heap of good shit to whack into the buns including home made kimchi and cucumber kimchi. Hashtag mynewfavourites
Burgers, sausages, oven chips and a heap of good shit to whack into the buns including home made kimchi and cucumber kimchi. Hashtag mynewfavourites

Get amongst that shit
Get amongst that shit
That bbq got the big thumbs up from Jennee's brother Queenie
That bbq got the big thumbs up from Jennee’s brother Queenie

We combated the 40C heat with a cracking barbecue, a bunch of good kents*, cold beverages and plenty of pool time. The kids were still in the pool at 8pm, which meant more drinking time for us… I did question weather this may be a prime example of bad parenting but my brother Matt informed me that it was in fact good kidding. I like the words that man says.

Falafel and friends
Falafel and friends

Tomato salsa
Tomato salsa
Bean salad, tzatziki and flat breads
Bean salad, tzatziki and flat breads
Flatbreads and falafely goodness
Flatbreads and falafely goodness

To top off our eating of delicious things, Jennee and Amelia prepared a kickass feast of vegetarian stats for her now legendary “Sunday Spread”. The fresh, good, falafely, salady din dins was just what the doctor** ordered. Like, I literally ordered it. I spoke with Jennee from my place of work via the electric telephone, when she inquired as to what I may want for my evening meal, to which I replied that it should be something fresh, good and salady to combat the small farm I had consumed the previous night.

All good team.

Here is the recipe for the flat breads that Amelia made to go with the falafel. Happy Monday you bunch of good lents.

Grillin' flattys
Grillin’ flattys


300g self-raising flour
300g greek yoghurt

• Mix it all together
• Roll or press it out so it resembles little flat breads
• Brush with butter or oil in fry or grill for a minute each side
• Eat in your face with some other good shit

*Good kents; A term of endearment. Something you call your closest friends. Only in Australia. (Not the actual spelling of the phrase but hopefully you get the picture because there is no way in hell I am writing the actual word because if my mother ever saw it she would take her 39 year old son by his ear, get the soap out of the bathroom and ram it down his dirty little gutter mouth)

**not an actual doctor, but I am more than happy to take a look for you

Black Rock Camping Part 3… the final instalment of how to eat like a king while camping

camp oven breakfast
Black Rock Camping 3

We endured but another night of wind and rain worthy of the adventures of Scott of the Antarctic himself. We should of maybe packed ourselves up, or possibly threw caution to that proverbial wind, but instead we decided throwing ourselves three sheets to the wind would be a better option and we drank ourselves numb to the pending eventuality that our campsite would be lifted from its tethers and transported back to Oz itself!

Our determination and the fact that we were all oblivious to the storm that continued around us paid off as we awoke to blue skies and the promise of a sugar-sweet day in paradise. I foraged native fruits and berries, tracked wild boar and gathered emu eggs for our breakfast feast. That is, I Viking raided the fuck out of everyone’s eskies and used the pillaged goods to create a communal breakfast. I let my brain be free as it instructed my hands through the motions needed to get this kick-ass breakfast on the table. I feel my brain worked very well with my hands on this occasion.

We ate a spiced vegetable and bean stew with baked eggs, sausages and bacon, and pots of freshly brewed coffee (we are not animals) and tea. *Fun camping fact #2 – if you want to eat like a king while camping get yourself a camp spice rack.

Eggs baked on top of a spiced vegetable and bean stew looks damn good eh?
Eggs baked on top of a spiced vegetable and bean stew looks damn good eh?

Serve that shit up, kid
Serve that shit up, kid


6 big handfuls of diced vegetables that you can steal from everybody’s eskies. We had onion, corn, eggplant, carrot, mushrooms and kale
1 tin of cannellini beans
1 tin of kidney beans
1 tablespoon each cumin seed, paprika and dried oregano
½ teaspoon dried thyme
½ a teaspoon dried smoked chilli powder
2 tablespoons smoky barbecue sauce
1x 700g bottle of tomato passata
½ cup water
8 eggs
Sausages and bacon, to serve

• In some medium-high heat coals ☺, cook off all of the vegetables except kale with a splash of oil
• Once starting to colour and soften add spices and kale and cook out for another couple of minutes
• Add beans, barbecue sauce, tomato and water and simmer, covered for another 8-10ish minutes or until vegetables are cooked. Add another splash of water if it starts to thicken up too much as you need a wet sauce to poach/bake the eggs in
• Check and adjust seasoning if necessary
• Make a few (eight, actually) little dips in the stew and crack eggs straight into them. Don’t be too concerned if they don’t stay where you want them too, it’s all good in the end
• Cover camp oven and simmer, covered, for another five minutes or so (until the eggs are cooked but still a little soft in the middle is the desired result)
• Once cooked, serve with an array of camp fire meats, a pot coffee, tea, whiskey or what ever it is you drink in the morning and the company of some nice people

I am starting to think the reason I get invited on these trips is because of my camp cooking smarts, which is A OK by me. The challenge of cooking with only the (almost) bare basics, using the most primitive of cooking methods, just damn well appeals to me. Camp seasoning provided by the fire and the flora in this unattended outdoor greenhouse that is my kitchen stadium. Fire and then some more fire. It is all about the fire when I’m on the scene. You can take your trek through the bush, read your Mills and Boon novel or build a carnie survival hut in the bush, but you’ll find me tending the fire, getting the next meal together and possibly (definitely) sipping on a sneaky beer… well, as long as we’re done with breakfast.

The camp spice rack helped bring a little Jamaican influence to our chicken and chorizo. Pretty easy huh?
The camp spice rack helped bring a little Jamaican influence to our chicken and chorizo. Pretty easy huh?

That sucker in the coals next to Marky's meatballs
That sucker in the coals next to Marky’s meatballs
…and finished with a few green beans
…and finished with a few green beans

Camping is my shit.

We wake, eat, drink, relieve ourselves and sleep when we feel the need, as our bodies regress back to the bare necessities of what you need to do to stay alive. Camp life is not dictated by alarm clocks, bus schedules or appointments at the herpes clinic. Meal times are not relevant as you eat when you feel like you want to eat, not when your boss sanctions your union approved 45 minute lunch break. As my friend Daniel-San, a fellow strapping young red-bearded lad, would say, “that is camp time, folks”. And you know what? It really doesn’t matter if you are drinking a beer at 10:30am or asleep at 7pm, as long as you are out there, enjoying what our dear sweet mother nature has to offer you, what ever that may be.

But this camping trip is almost over and nigh is the time that we shall return to our urban homes so that I may clean myself up, for I am currently exuding more funk than James Brown’s butt crack.

It’s been real, folks. It’s been real.

Wooli part 4… Cervapcici (Skinless Sausages)


These are some tasty little Croatian/Serbian (I certainly won’t be taking sides in that one) sausages. Tasty little skinless sausages, much like circumcised penises except tastier… not that I would know. No circumcised throbbing member for me, thank you. Cevapcici sure. Throbbing member no thank you.

It is suggested that a fitting accompaniment to these little circumcised penises is avjar and sour cream. Avjar is a roasted capsicum and eggplant condiment, but as I have exactly zero eggplant and capsicum in my possession and also the shop in this village has zero knowledge of the existence of such exotic fruits and/or vegetables, I shant be making that. Sour cream is cream that has been soured. Once again not in my possession and far too exotic for this place… I could wait for them to order it but the next supply boat is not due from the Caribbean spice traders for another two months. Don’t get me wrong, I am certainly not complaining about the cessation of any link to society these little places seem to experience. In fact that is what draws me to them the most. It’s the type of place where I could board myself in and write a book or two… and possibly end up in part 2 of The Shining. One just needs to remember to bring supplies and use what is on hand, or face the journey back to the nearest civilized major center. Which I may add is neither “that civilized” nor at all on the cards for me. So making use of what I had was my motto for the day. My brain conjured up this so-quick-I-can’t-believe-it tomato relish, which is quicker than the gypsy’s hand into your back pocket at the town fair. Also a fennel sauerkraut number made it’s way from that same brain, through my hands, into a pot and onto the table with the sausages and relish.

Mixy mixy
Mixy mixy
Form into little penises
Form into little penises
Fry little penis, fry
Fry little penis, fry
On the table like a baws
On the table like a baws
Get in my belly
Get in my belly

These sausages are well worth a try. Tasty eating right there.


300g beef mince
200g pork mince
½ brown onion, grated (grate the other half for your quick tomato relish)
2 cloves garlic, grated
1 teaspoon paprika
• Combine all ingredients in a bowl and mix thoroughly. Really thoroughly. There’s nothing worse than something like this when one bite contains all of the salt and spice
• Form into little penis like sausages, about 10cm long. Slap them about a bit if that makes you feel good
• Fry sausages in a pan over medium heat, with a splash of oil. Cook for 7-8 minutes or until done, turning every 2 minutes so they don’t fuse to the bottom of the pan
• Eat in hotdog buns with fennel ‘kraut and quick tomato relish if that is what you desire

2 cups of your finest home made sauerkraut or store bought styleez if that’s all you got
1 medium bulb fennel, sliced
• Sauté fennel in a little oil until soft
• Add sauerkraut and warm through

½ brown onion, grated
1 400g tin crushed tomatoes or 400g tomato passata
1 clove garlic, grated
1 teaspoon paprika
2 tablespoons sugar
3 tablespoons vinegar (I found some red wine vinegar in the pantry)
• Chuck everything into a pot and simmer over medium-high heat, stirring constantly for five minutes until thickened slightly
• Check seasoning as the salt will really bring the flavours out of the relish and into your mouth
• Cool and serve

Nom nom nom
Nom nom nom

Paul’s Caul, typos and all… Holidayfoodisthebestshitever part 1

Holidayfoodisthebestshitever (part 1)

It’s been way too long since I’ve been on a proper holiday… proper holiday? You ask, what is this proper holiday you speak of. Well for me it’s not a real holiday if you’re going somewhere to catch up with heaps of people you already know, it’s the anonymity that I love on a holiday, and of course it the food that you eat, that can make or break your experience. Lack of sex, bad accommodation and being locked in a foreign jail are also things that can effect a holiday, but I still think food is at the top.

As I’m extremely lucky to have a girl that love’s food as much as me (by that I literally mean that she love’s food as much or more then actually loving me J ), our holiday pretty much revolves around our next meal. Lauren (this is what I call her, as it is her name) and I packed our car on Friday morning, well I packed it as she did… to be honest I have no idea what she achieved whilst I loaded bag after bag into my car. But regardless of who did what, I looked at my car that resembled a car that was about to make a trip across Australia, when in fact we where only driving 3 hours to a 5 star resort in Bunker Bay.

But I had a plan and in the words of Baldrick “a VERY cunning plan indeed” my idea was to bring lots of food down with me, as well as my latest buy a brand new Webber Q (a beautiful bit of equipment I’ve named Suzie) so being the anal chef that I am (lets all get our minds out of the gutter) I obviously had to bring my own salt, oil, t-towels, tongs, fish slice, two eskies full of meats and seafood… we’re talking sausages from two different butchers, kranski, Cumberland, black pudding and chorizo from Dubrovnik’s and hot Italian from princi’s, t-bones, lamb chops, scallops, prawns and free range bacon. The concept was to cook a grand breaky in our studio apartment every morning then go visit the local wineries and restaurants for opulent lunches then get back to the serenity of our resort to drink much wine, eat grilled goodness and well the rest isn’t for public consumption.

Good plan, nay great plan but then of course me being me thought I’d better include coffee making into my arrangements, so I packed coffee grinder and cafeteria and foolishly sent Lauren over the road to get coffee. What happened next is one of the worst things to happen on this holiday so far, if I wasn’t such a fair and reasonable man then young Lauren would be walking home. Long story short she bought decaf beans and we didn’t realise till I went to make a coffee, which at the time was very well needed. I know it was a terrible as it sounds, who on earth wants decaf coffee? fkn weirdos that’s who! And I am certainly not one of them.

But this crisis averted we have already managed to eat out 3 times in two days, the first was a nice organic café (liars) in Dunsborough where they did produce tasty food but insisted on lying about the organic nature of their food and the homemadeness of their hollandaise, but they where hippies so my fault I guess for trusting them.

The next meal was a 3 course meal at the Bunker Bay resort, the menu read extremely well and the food was cooked reasonably well, but it was lacking a certain something and although Laurens ‘cauli & blue cheese gnocchi’ was alright it was not suberb and  the same goes for my ‘pork belly with eggplant 3 ways’ could of definitely made some thing rude out of the name 😉 , then mains where ‘venison on a beetroot and barley risotto, brussel sprouts’ and my ‘4day marinaded beef cheeks, truffle mash, baby veg’ now for fuck sakes people and by people I mean chef’s, please just engage your imagination just a little and put on a twist on these magnificent classic’s instead of leaving me feel like I have either just eaten in a tafe restaurant or stepped foot out a a tardis or delorian. Dessert had one saving grace a stunning basil and raspberry parfait served with a choc fondant… which was the polar opposite to the flavourless almond tart with dates that I foolishly ordered. All in all I had a great dinner but nothing special when all the ingredients where there

Then after a 2 hour hike on Saturday morning we walked into a small café called ‘Bunkers’ I had been here many years ago and had heard good things about it since, but I have a sneaky suspicion they have heard good things about them selves and act like they are exceptional, and well they just ain’t… I had a taste plate which read really well (hence me ordering it) but when you think so highly of a blue cheese that you place in by its self on an entree taste plate then at least get it to room temp so people can taste it, but their ‘dates stuffed with ricotta, white anchovy and stewed rhubarb’ was surprisly good, it reads like a god damn train wreck of a dish but it worked (rhubarb most likely didn’t need to be there) and Lauren had the best fish and chips she’d had in ages ‘battered garfish & chips with aioli’… chuck in a couple of poorly made long mac’s and that was Saturday lunch.

It’s now Sunday morning and I’m about to go for a walk whilst Lauren is going for a long horse ride along the beach (sounds awful but she seems to like it) and tonight its going to be t-bones with broccolini, local cheese and a bottle of Hensche Hill Of Grace to drink… good times me thinks J



That’s Suzie-Q and the other pic is Pauly looking good in the pool. You pick which is which… G