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Monday, February 9, 2009

Comebacks and fast food

What is it with late nights and fast food? In my world (and a few others out there, I dare say) there seems to be an inexplicable connection between the two that is detrimental to both my wallet and waistline. Yes, fast food outlets are positioned conveniently close to late night venues and are entrepreneurially open similar hours. But why is it that I must custom one after the other to then head home and plop to bed?

Scraping the barrel here for anything remotely food related but I must digress ever so slightly to subduedly rave about a last night's gig at the Oxford Art Factory (OAF) by "Phase II" Australian rock band, 'White Feather'. The thinking is that this is a non-too-subtle test for the new reincarnation of said rock band with our favourite, afro-ed, legend of a frontman, Andrew Stockdale, at the helm.

'White Feather' frontman, Andrew Stockdale
at the Oxford Art Factory, Sydney


I really enjoy the OAF venue for its intimacy, complete lack of pretensions and huge variety of beers available. Last time I went they were serving longnecks in brown paper bags - hilarious - though I didn't see that this time. It's a fun night out guaranteed and made all the better with Wolfmother hits and newbies alike, a great warmer of New Zealand band Die! Die! Die! and their on- and mostly off-stage antics, and a great big bunch of happy, sweaty music lovers.

Post-gig, you just gotta go, or so it's said. We headed across the road for a fast food fix at Oporto's that was admittedly oh-so-satisfying. I probably could have done without my second serve of chips (for the road!) but we were definitely happy, rocking campers after this.

Regular Bondi Burger from Oporto's

Not so appetising in hindsight but it felt so much better than a salad at the time. It downright looks like roadkill at the moment. Lettuce, mayonnaise, two grilled chicken breast fillets and fiery chilli sauce in a hamburger bun worthy of a two-handed clutch.

Chips

Personally, I think Oporto's have the best chips out of all the fast food joints. Not too thin, nor overindulged with chicken salt, they're rarely soggy and have an appropriate crispy to fluffy ratio. But then let's not overanalyse chips. They're yummy and it feels like they soak up alcohol.

The late night fast food jaunt is definitely one of merit, of a non-nutritious type. One can't go straight home after a night out, what with the buzz and/or gossip of the night still ringing vividly in the mind. It's a pause; a moment to recollect, ponder, re-evaluate if necessary, and plan the next night out and associated eating options.

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