A weekly ode to the joys of moaning about your holiday, by Tim Roxborogh.
I can remember being at a dinner event promoting tourism to Australia and being so hungry when I got home that I had to have a bowl of cereal. Nutri-Grain if I recall. This was about
10-years ago and none of this is said with any sense of pride, nor in any real condemnation of the food. I'm just a wuss. When it comes to trying strange and exotic meats, I really couldn't be less brave.
It was the crocodile potato bonanza (my words, the official name of the dish escapes me) that pushed me over the edge. At this Auckland-held, Australian-themed dinner, the croc 'n' starch combo was presented in small pot-plant containers that accidentally stuck to the tables as the potato and lizard mash oozed through the hole in the bottom of the pot.
To this day, whenever I see crocodiles in the news or mentioned anywhere I can't help but think of sticky, oozing miniature pot plants. And because the word "oozing" is involved, so too is mild nausea.
As for the rest of the menu that night, it involved the barbecuing of a national icon (kangaroo) and if my traumatic memories serve me correctly (which I'm not certain I can quite guarantee), something alarming involving emu. The alarming part of course being the presence of emu. What's wrong with chicken!
