There are few better ways to establish dominance in the Australian BBQ scene quite like flopping the disembowelled & stuffed corpse of a cob loaf on the outdoor setting upon your arrival.
Don’t be too fussed about reception. Firstly, they’ll love it, but secondly, the glint in your eye will send shivers down their spine. It’s like a macabre trophy from a bakery killing spree and you’re letting everyone know they’re next if they don’t appreciate your creation.
First and foremost, it’s imperative to ensure everyone in the general vicinity knows the skilled craftsmanship that has gone into this cob loaf. a
Should some lemon tree urinator try to dig his filthy piss-hand into your baby before you’re done explaining it then you should feel free to impale the low class appendage with the nearest honey soy chicken skewer.
No one gets a dig until you’ve explained the artisan bread that you lined up for several hours to acquire. No one gets a partake of the creamy spinach & ricotta gizzards until you’ve explained how you painstakingly hand whipped the goo up adding just the right amount of secret spices that make your cob the god damn taste phenomenon of the century.
Inevitably, your work of art will need to be consumed. Seeing it ripped apart by drunks and people who only brought Coles’ BBQ snags to the table will hurt. Ultimately, if you truly love your cob loaf you will let it be free.
However, not to worry, while your Louvre exhibit is being mutilated you can fixate your attention and revenge on the classless boor who thinks they’re hot shit for bringing an above average potato salad to the mix.
Oh yes, that ma’farker has it all, bacon, egg, chives, a whole jar of mayo and texture that makes a cloud look like smoother than a buzzfeed reader’s brain. Just listen to them describe how they didn’t hold back and it’s a real decedent potato salad.
Make no mistake, this pleb seeks to take attention away from your cob loaf with an extremely on the nose crowd pleaser. What a complete barbarian.
Passing off the inherent joy of bacon, potato & mayo as their own hard work. Do they even know fuckin’ monks baked your bread?
Do they know spinach is a god damn superfood? By this point you may be tempted to explode like Popeye’s blue vein after a scoop of your delightful cob dip.
Perhaps you’d be justified in doing so but alas, social etiquette dictates you should enjoy the company of your friends and BBQ side dishes shouldn’t be a “friendship ending” catalyst.
You know however, anyone who thinks like that doesn’t have it in ’em to bring a cob loaf to the table. They aren’t made of the same shit you are. Never doubt the cob supremacy.
Documenting the Human Zoo is thirsty work, so if you enjoyed what you read how about buying Belle a beer, ay?