I became an Australian Citizen this week. Pip hooray for me.
Now I have every right to fry sausages, put a loaf of white bread and a bottle of “dead ‘orse” ( I used to say “sauce”, but now I’m an Aussie) out next to the pan and call it dinner.
The trick is to call it a sausage sizzle. That way you confuse everyone into thinking it’s a lot of fun, and a big treat.
These snags, erh, sausages, were pork ones. British style pork ones. Like I used to be – a porky Brit. Now it’s Aussie, Aussie, Aussie, oink, oink, oink.
But that’s another post.
How I saw a photo of myself this week and thought someone had put my head on Dawn French’s body…
That gap in my wonderful Circulon pan is where I did a little taste tester. Yumbo!
Come to mama my lovely little sausage.