http://www.adbmag.com.au MAY 2019| 161
REDMOND’S RANT REAR GUARD
THUNDER DOME
I’MKICKINGANDscreaming
as Gen-Y drags my lifeless form
along into their decades of
vacuous crap. Okay, I have
fi nally got a Weber Q. I have
paddled my barbed wire canoe
up the shittiest creek over the
last decade in workshop crib huts
as Millennials bang on about
God-damn and Satan worshipping
Weber dome barbecues.
Millennials’ lacklustre adjectives
and plagiarism of the last
pseudo-conversation they
murdered in the hunt for wordsto
fi ll the Red Bull-induced brain stall
is enough for me to never, everfeel
the need to adhere to anything
they say, let alone advice on
something as timeless as putting
meat to a fi re.
A million years ago man
discoveredfire.Homoerectuswould
haveimmediatelyandcorrectly
extinguished this chemical reaction if he
knew his future genesis would have to sit
mute and angry listening to self-proclaimed
meat-burning experts bang on about
poultry having beer cans inserted up their
rectums under the hood of a friggin’
Weber. Or another killer of life and
conversation: the brisket with meat that
“falls off the bone”.
Gen-Y has discovered fi re and haircuts
one million years after the horse bolted.
Anyway, my champion of a father-in-law-
and-war gave me his old Weber because the
handle was rooted. I glued it back on upside
down as a middle fi nger to the middle class,
middle of the road men who rave on about
these meat-heating domes. I can not sit here
internally vomiting these words as I have
half a dozen pork snags that require my
attention/bread /tommy sauce.
WHO IS REDMOND? HE’S A BEER DRINKING, DIRTBIKING, UTE DRIVING ALL-ROUND GOOD AUSSIE BLOKE WHO LOVES ADB.
HE’S MADE US LAUGH FOR YEARS SO WE THOUGHT WE’D SHARE THE LAUGHS HE GIVES US WITH YOU, EVERY MONTH!BREAK THAT FAST
GET SOME SPEK bacon, the king of
bacons and the pinnacle of any righteous
delicatessen. I start with a hot frypan, no
oil or spray. Throwing the cured meat
onto the heat releases fat to provide the
cooking medium. Due to the upstanding
genealogy of this bacon I choose not to
toast the bread, in fact to pay homage to
these fi ne straps of swine I use plain
white bread slathered with cold butter.
The bread may seem hedonistic in thisage of wheat being responsible for
rendering many crippled but, today, I
hold it to be self-evident. As I assemble
this magnifi cent sandwich I fry-off one
succulent bright-yellow, yoke-centred
hen’s egg. The outline of the egg crisps
up as it fl oats in the boiling oil rendered
down from the bacon.
I dust a few almonds with some white
pepper, and black pepper some fresh
tomato. I can not sit here salivating as I
must now take my repast. Dear s ir, may I
be excused to break my fast?EVERYBODY
LOVES
REDMONDG en-Y h a s
discovered f ire
and haircuts one
million years after
the horse bolted.