Sunday, 22 February 2009
Regular readers will have heard me allude to Furry's style of cooking BPG (before purple goddess) and APG (afte... oh, FFS, you work it out). His BPG was characterised by "Batch food", meaning anything that could be whipped up whilst hungover, on shore leave, with a random hook up passed out on your couch. It usually involves a can of Stagg beans and a microwave. At its best, batch food can be hearty, uncomplicated and stick-to-yer ribs.
At worst, it ends up leaving you nostalgically longing for the out-of-stomach experience of Bali Belly
Furry's batch (short for "Bachelor") repertoire consists of wraps, rolls, deep-fried things, deep fried things with cheese and bacon.
LOTS of bacon.
He also has his APG repertoire. which has been oft chronicled here.
But it's his neo-batch food I was craving this weekend.
We've done 4 months off the fags. The weight gain has stabilised. We've been exercising a little more and eating a whole lot better. Out alcohol consumption is waaaaaay down, and we're finally feeling the benefits of giving up the coffin nails.
So this Sat night, I had a hankering for nachos. And Furry has combined the best of his BPG and APG skills to make a mean nachos. It is part of his repertoire I like to call is Neo Classical Batch food.
It's batch food that's been pg-ised. Once upon a time, it would have been Doritos, Ole El Paso salsa and Chris' "avocado" dip, but these days he uses organic corn chips (he once did it with the blue corn disks and that was AWESOME!!), makes his own carne mix (mince, red kidney beans, chopped tomatoes, Tabasco, garlic, ginger, onion slow stewed for hours), his own salsa (this time, tiny wee baby tomatoes, halved, with Vietnamese mint and lime juice) and his own guac (avo, sour cream and lime juice)
So a lazy Sat night, down at Chez Fur, with my gorgeous hubbie, some comforting batch food, and a beer.
But here's the thing. Like all wild beasts that have been tamed, his veneer of civility is thin, and lurking beneath that Eastern Suburbs, MCG tie-wearing facade, is the same Furry who fished with det cord, spent 16 years in the wilderness of the Western Suburbs, can fart on command and who once streaked (stroked?) drunk down the front straight at the Turrumburry race meet.
How do I know this?
Dinner was served using a paint scraper.