As previously mentioned, I steer clear of any sort of generic Australian establishment when overseas. Whilst wandering about in the lower part of Manhattan I saw an “Australian Ice Cream” shop. Hmm … I had to go inside to check and see what specifically made it Australian. In fact, nothing did. Whacking some Macadamia nuts into a bit of vanilla ice cream means does not an antipodean dessert make.
One of my dear soft copy to hard copy friends, Ms Ambulance Chaser, headed out with her Man o’ Comedy to a benefit evening in New York for Muscular Dystrophy. This little soiree was themed with Australian and New Zealand cuisine. Automatically I groaned and rolled my eyes. A shrimp on the barbie is quite frankly a waste of a good prawn. I am not familiar with anyone who actually barbeques a prawn. Most Australian’s I know eat them fresh and cold with some lemon or seafood sauce. Or my personal favourite served cold on a fresh crusty rolled with crunchy coleslaw. Mmm … can’t type. Eating.
So imagine my shock when Ms Ambulance Chaser accused me voraciously for not sharing our national secret with them. I was thinking maybe the Anzac Biscuit (this is a cookie, damnable yankees), a bit of Kangaroo fillet, possibly even a TimTam Slam (or Straw)?
But no. Ms Ambulance Chaser was amazed that we are able to combine two of her favourite dishes. Meat and Pie. And apparently Tuck Shop in lower Manahattan who provided these little pockets of splendour ran out incredibly quickly. The Yankees could not stuff their faces with them fast enough. Great piles of flaky pastry crumbs were strewn all over each bow tie and decolletage. I had to investigate the authenticity of this!
So I popped myself down to Tuck Shop on 68 East 1 St. Oh New Yorkers, get thee down there for a we bit of Aussie heaven. Run by a bloke from Melbourne, you can get all sorts of Aussie fair. I personally had a Meat Pie with a Coopers Pale Ale on what was possibly the first summers day that New York had seen in my entire visit. The Coopers went down a treat.
They also sell a pea floater, sausage rolls and even Freddo Frogs!
A glorious piece of home – like I’m back in Newtown, Sydney, or in Degraves Street, Melbourne – all the way downtown in Manhattan.
Run, don’t walk! Go stuff yourself stupid, mate.