Parmi – you’re a true connoisseur of pub grub. You know exactly what a pub can do well and you’ve never deviated from your order in the past 20 years. You are a pub gourmand whose opinion on the parmi rules supreme thus you will not hesitate to get a friend in a headlock over the smallest parmi-related-disagreement. More on parmis HERE.
Schnitty – you’re a plain jane, two pump, missionary unit that has no time for any of that exotic shit. You’re never happier than when you’re paying top dollar to get Steggled in the deep fryer of life. You once boycotted the local pub for 3 years for introducing a slice of lemon to the plate. Fark off back to Sydney with that fancy shit mate.
Steak – an egregious display of opulence. Forking out $40+ for a chewy piece of shit prepared by someone who lost the passion for the grill years ago is a boss move. You know that 9/10 times you’ll be let down but you don’t care because everyone is copping a big load of your consumer power, baby.
Surf & turf – much like the steak the surf & turf is the ultimate suburban pub flex. You want everyone to know it’s either your 10 year anniversary with the ol ball & chain or you’ve got enough disposable income you can ignore the preposterous pairing of seafood and beef. Who needs culinary guidelines when you just won $500 on the dogs?
Steak sanga – you’ve been living in denial so long that lying to yourself has become part & parcel of life. Despite never having a great steak sanga you’ll continue to order the pub staple because that’s what ya dad used to do. You also have the amazing ability to act like the tough steak tearing away from the sandwich doesn’t bother you. Expert-level delusion. More on the steak sanga HERE.
Bangers & mash – You know your way around the Mitchell Freeway if you catch our drift. Dining with you is a lesson in how every element of the plate could be improved if Australians weren’t useless sacks of antipodean shit. You wouldn’t think twice about bringing your own gravy to the pub.
Fish & chips – you’re not the kinda person anyone would want to use a toilet after. You were born into the grease, moulded by it. You even sweat tiny amounts of grease which add to the greasy shine on your face hours after the feast. You’re also too lazy to commit to proper chewing. Or you’re 80.
Burger – you’re a burg fiend fixing for their next hit. Your life has become devoted to the iconic dish and you’re chasing the perfect burg. You’re forever feeling sorrowful that the burger doesn’t live up to the ones you’ve had in the past and you dwell in culinary melancholy as you realise what you’re chasing may not exist. More on burger snobs HERE.
Bowl of chips for the table – you’re a deadset legend. Nothing shows the true character & class of an individual who selflessly raids their ING splurge account for a bowl of communal joy.
Wedges – you’re a quantity over quality kinda operator. You don’t care that those giant fat wedges are starchy shitbombs. You just want to cram as many carbs down your gluttonous gullet as you can. You also love cross contaminating as will be proven by the horror show inside your sour cream & sweet chilli dipping bowl. Slag, crumbs, sour cream & sweet chilli should be bottled and sold as a separate sauce according to you.
Thai beef salad – You’re either lost or trying to make up for the terrible dietary choices you make in your life. Much like the steak sanga you lie to yourself. Order as many thai beef salads as you want mate, it’s not going to make up for that carton of cruisers you smashed the day before.
Caeser salad – diet starts monday huh? A very, very distant Monday. You like the idea of a salad but can’t commit so you cover your pathetic attempt at freshness in creamy dressing. You’re the Diet Coke in the big mac meal of life. Nevertheless, you know a good time and no one can take that away from you.
More on food: IN FOCUS: Smashing a Late Night Meatbox (HSP)