Food Review of the Day

Location:
Bunnings Warehouse, Fyshwick

Time:
Around 12pm

Weather:

Cold as fuck

Hangover Rating:

Non-existent

I have always looked at the Scouts with a mixture of emotions, ever since my best friend in Year 2 invited me to join his Scouts club, but my parents said no.  As I grew up, I often wondered what kind of person I would have become if my dad had allowed me to go camping with a bunch of other idiot 8 year olds and a man with questionable motives.

On Saturday, that question was answered.  I would have become a socially inept shell of a teenager who couldn't cook a barbecue to save their lives.  I thought the Scouts was about "being prepared" and you'd get your "Cooking Badge" and you helped old ladies across the street.  No siree, not any more.

Be prepared?  Total lack of preparation from the Scouts on this occasion - someone had obviously taken home the leftovers from the last barbecue fundraiser they had and chucked them into the bottom of their deep freeze.  I'm all about sausage preservation, but when the snag has that frostbitten taste to it, and the bread of your sausso sanger is still frozen hard, I am not impressed.  All it would have taken was a little thawing out prior to cooking, and as for the tundra bread, well... save it for your next adventure into the hinterlands of Michelago, or bung it into a toaster at Scoutmaster Steve's next breakfast soiree.  

I'm not entirely up-to-speed with the Scouts' comings and goings, so I was sad to learn about the apparent Onion Shortage of 2016, where each sausage sandwich was waved over a plate that onion once sat on.  Onion is a very important aspect of the snag sizzle, especially if your snaggos and bread are below average, so to have the barest taste of onion was pretty unforgivable in this situation.  

But the nail in the coffin came when dealing with the kid taking orders.  I'm all for equal opportunity treatment, but if I had a mute at my disposal, I probably wouldn't put them at the only job that actually requires customer interaction.  My message to him "two with onion please" washed over his face like I'd just mentioned that my phone's battery seemed to be holding charge better than it used to, as he stood there with a confused expression on his face, slowly nodding.  In the end, I had to nudge him to make sure he was still awake and give him his next line, "$5 thanks."  Fuck knows how I ever ended up with a couple of sangers, as no one actually acknowledged me, and on this occasion, it probably would have been better if I didn't.

Poor form, Scouts.  3/10