We normally avoid Tuesday outings because so many places are closed, which can lead to Out of Sequence Error messages. But one of our tribe has gone, leaving a big hole in the lives of those around him, and in these strange and sad days, normal rules make little sense. We are all fragile and in need of comfort and distraction.
And anyway this is our last chance to catch up with a flesh and blood version of Adrienne, who is in town on sabbatical from her home in the Bundaberg back blocks. Adrienne is of the Art persuasion and has been busy on a fortnight long gallery-gallivant around Sydney. Tonight, we are also lucky to be joined by Adrienne’s niece, the gorgeous Bridget, who is in town for a one-day only, birthday-mystery-junket. She turned up at Brisbane airport this morning, knowing she was catching a plane, but not knowing where she was going. Her Arty Aunt had arranged a surprise day out in Sydney, ticking off icons, generally larking it up, and finally reaching a climax of Sydney fulfilment by questing her way to Smash Sausage Express. But the visit is strictly a one-day event and, Cinderella-like she will be whisked away by a taxi after dinner, to return to her normal life of drudgery in Bris-vegas. We are also joined by the Stropolina to help even out the age distribution graph and because there is a new rule that she has to dine with us on Tuesdays.
Smash Sausage Express specialises in comfort food. Specifically, they dish up sausages and mashed potatoes in a variety of tasty configurations. They even have a Mash of the Day, a Sausage of the Day, and a Brulée of the Day. And I think I am in love.
Our comforting starters are Corn on the Cob with chilli salt and Garlic Bread. While we are munching our way through these, Bridget and Adrienne start on a bit of Quest inquisition, wanting to know all the history, the derivation of the Rules, and what the hell Number 37 has to do with anything. Hopefully, our answers made some kind of sense to the Queenslanders.
For mains you can pick whatever combination of sausages you want and match them with your choice of mash and sauce. I decided to go with the prize winning Moroccan Lamb and Raisin (on the manager’s recommendation), Wagyu Beef (Sausage of the Day), and English Pork (sausage classic), which I matched with the Mash of the Day (Curry) and Tomato Chutney. The others tried various combinations, including Parmesan Mash, Caramelised Onion Mash, Honey Chicken and Macadamia sausages, and Smokey Bacon, Pork and Maple, and Vegetarian. Bridget avoided the mash altogether, and went for a salad. Sometimes I think young people have their priorities all wrong.
Curry Mash. Get yourself some. That is all.
It was all lovely, as comfort food should be. The Moroccan Lamb and the English Pork sausages were excellent but the Curry Mash was a revelation. I am definitely going back for more of that. Smash get their sausages from some secret master sausage butcher. Whoever this bloke is, Mr Abbott should immediately snatch back Phil the Greeks superfluous knighthood and give it to this deserving butcher – for services to stomachs.
Dessert isn’t called dessert at Smash. It is called Pudding, and I couldn’t agree more. Whatever you call it, it wasn’t strictly necessary after we had polished off our snags and mash, but we don’t like to do things by halves, especially when we are trying to impress visitors from over the border. Strop and I went for the Brulée of the Day, because we can’t resist rhymes, and Adrienne went for the Eton Mess because she is full of curiosity and not easily put off. The young people opted out, which was probably the sensible approach. The Eton Mess was huge and stopped Adrienne in her tracks, the brulée was more modest but was still more than was strictly necessary. Oh well, there is always the long walk home (which is getting longer and longer) to help joggle everything back into the right places.
If you need some comforting, and these days who doesn’t, go and get some Smash.
I wonder if they do takeaways?
