Dinner in the Devils Arsehole

The day is a devils arsehole; the heat billowing so relentlessly that even the weather forecast on my mobile is reduced to a single tinny soundbite.

It begs the question, what does one eat in an arsehole?

Schoolboy scatological references may not fall that short of the mark. But is it good shit; the kind that grows bumper crops of mashed potatoes or the dry acidic sort that only turns up stunted portions of tomatoe sauce?

Take the local delicacy, camel. Although only one step removed from eating horse, camel  has had a makeover and upgraded from pet meat  to “wildfood” through an unusual alliance between butchers and greenies. Nestled in the back of Yeperrenye shopping centre, Charbray butchers has been cranking out a steady string of camel and date sausages. These fat fingers of sweet, sticky meat treat are reguarly served up to interstate guests and new arrivals as a gastronomical talisman of all that is both carnivourous and chic about Central Australia. They also play a star role alongside white bread and onions as a staple fundraiser at festivals and events.

The cull em vs eat em camel debate flares up occasionally around bbqs across Alice Springs, and was last sighted in the national media in early november . When the camels started running people out of their houses in Docker River, some polished their guns, others cleaned out the deep freezer. A local enviromental leader coined the term “cameltarian” to describe the way in which Central Australians should be tackling the problem. The jury is still out on the fate of the meat laden ships of the desert, however it seems that word on the street is that the camel and date sausages at Charbray just aren’t as good as they used to be.

Also of dubious certanity is the quality of chicken schnitzel on any given Thursday at the Todd Tavern. Possibly the best meal deal in town, the $7 schnitty at the todd comes equipped with chips, gravy and salad bar. If the person taking orders isn’t full of hate, or the fear of authority, they’ll usually let you swap chips for mash and my mate Kev says you should always get your gravy on the side (I tend to agree with him).

What happens next is counter meal roullette; if you win, you’ll get a plump juicy just-outta-the-deep-fryer slab of goodness, lose and you dine on an encrusted jerky jerk off. Experiments with both timing and choice of schnitzel resulted in a mathematical equation resembling string theory, but for what it’s worth I reckon the chicken is probably you’re safest bet.

Don’t believe the hype about club eastside; their crumb-n-cook is no better. I have, however, heard from reliable sources (my mate Kev) that they have a killer ten buck sunday roast.

 Before heading off I should also give a nod to the steak sangas at the dirty little oilhouse Feeling Peckish, and the pies at the newly opened IAD press cafe (their homestyle mixes include hunks of potatoe, stewed cubes of beef and lashings of bacon).

I’ll be escaping my camel and aircon fuelled existence in a few weeks to scour the back blocks of NZ in search of big trees and small breweries. I’ll meet you back here in Jan with a wind up of the best grog.

Have a fat xmas kl