Gastric Lament

I have been eating on a budget in Sydney. And I have been eating some pretty bad food. Not intentionally. I harbour a great hatred of spending money on a bad meal. It’s so unsatisfying and disappointing. But food prices here seem ridiculously high, the facilities in my hostel discourage me from cooking anything more complicated than pasta, and I’m not making any money. So I’ve been opting for cheap. I thought I was doing a good job of being discriminating, but not so.

The most recent run-in with bad cuisine occurred today at a take-away salad shop in the mall near Bondi Beach. The salad part of the salad was fine. It was the chicken in this dish that was particularly offensive. The first piece I ate was normal. The second was un-chewable. I had to pull the mass of what was decidedly not consumable chicken out of my mouth. The third had a disconcerting fishy taste.

After this, I examined the poultry more carefully. It was unbelievably thin, and most of the pieces I looked at were veined with gristle. I pushed the remaining slices to one corner of the take-away box and concentrated on isolating the greens. Unfortunately the disgusting meat had contaminated either the salad or my tastebuds and left me craving anything that would banish the foul flavour from my mouth. A Cadbury Time Out bar served that purpose quite nicely.

I’ve had particularly bad luck with Indian fare. A lamb vindaloo I ordered has the distinction not only of being the worst curry I’ve ever had, but probably the worst food. I enjoy Indian dishes because they’re hot. A good curry makes me sweat and makes my nose run. I want a vindaloo that leaves me gulping down every liquid within arm’s length, desperate to salve the third-degree burns in my mouth. This vindaloo had no spice. Actually, it had no flavour aside from that of the lamb. And that was bordering on rancid. I ate as much of it as I could tolerate and then closed the container, gagging a little.

After this experience, I don’t know why I risked buying bottled madras sauce from the grocery store a few days later. I certainly regretted it. My faith rested on a bottled green curry sauce I’d bought in Ireland that was quite good. This is not Ireland. It turned into yet another meal that I had to choke down, wincing at the odd tang of the spices.

But I am not yet despairing of ever finding tasty cuisine in Sydney. There have been a few bright spots. I stopped at an unassuming chippie near the beach tonight for dinner and ate the best plate of fish and chips I’ve ever tasted. I don’t know what kind of fish it was, but it was hot and light and flaky. The tang of the lemon and vinegar offset the buttery batter flavour perfectly.

Then when I got home I had a few of the TimTam biscuits I bought yesterday. They’re chocolate wafers with chocolate filling covered with dark chocolate. They’re crispy and creamy and…chocolaty. I can already see myself coming home with a stockpile of them. And I think they’ll be my exclusive meal option from now on.