Australia's most ridiculous food blog - where culinary dreams go to die laughing
Get Cookin'G'day! I'm Bruce (not my real name), a self-proclaimed culinary terrorist with a passion for creating recipes that should never see the light of day. After burning more meals than a bushfire in summer, I decided to embrace my failures and share them with the world.
This blog is dedicated to all the kitchen disasters, questionable food combinations, and culinary abominations that make life interesting. From Vegemite-infused desserts to prawns that have seen better days on the barbie, we celebrate the Chicken Road of cooking - that bumpy path where good intentions meet terrible execution.
Join me on this deliciously disastrous journey through Australian cuisine (and by "cuisine" I mean whatever I can throw together while half-cut at a backyard BBQ). Fair warning: my recipes may cause laughter, tears, or in extreme cases, a visit from the health inspector.
My journey to creating charcoal so perfect, the local art gallery wanted to exhibit it. Includes tips on ignoring smoke alarms and blaming the wind. They say every Aussie knows their way around a BBQ. I say — not every hero wears an apron. Some of us wear shame, soot, and the scent of eternal regret. It all started with good intentions — a slab of chicken thighs, a six-pack of VB, and a playlist called Sizzle ‘n Chill. Ten minutes in, I realised I’d accidentally discovered a new cooking method: Flame-Kissed Oblivion. The smoke was so thick, a passing koala filed a noise complaint. The neighbours thought I was summoning a bushfire god. Even the dog refused to come outside. But mate, what emerged from those flames wasn’t just ruined meat. It was art. Each chicken piece was a unique sculpture of carbonized tragedy. The one that looked like Ned Kelly’s helmet? Pure genius. I call it Chicken Road to Redemption — first mention.
I combined two Aussie icons — Vegemite and pineapple — and slapped them on a pizza. The result? Culinary chaos. The first bite was confusing. Salty, sweet, deeply upsetting. My mate Dave said it tasted like “a prank in my mouth.” Nonna down the street hasn't made eye contact with me since. Three local pizzerias banned me. One hung my photo above the woodfire oven with the words “NEVER AGAIN.” But I call it bold. I call it experimental. I call it True Italian Cuisine.
I had one goal: make gourmet frozen custard. I ended up creating a dessert so dense, it bent a spoon and cracked my will to live. Forty bucks of premium ingredients — cream, eggs, dreams — churned into something NASA might use on space shuttles. I dropped a scoop on the driveway… it’s still there. Council painted a line around it and called it “local hazard.” One neighbor described the texture as “edible cement.” Another asked if it was part of the Great Aussie Driveway Repair Project. I just smiled. Some recipes aren't meant to be tamed.
Because regular fairy bread at kids' parties wasn't pretentious enough, I present: fairy bread sushi rolls. Hundreds and thousands meet their sticky demise.
When the culinary innovation led me to sandwich a beef patty between two Tim Tams, I knew I'd either created genius or needed professional help.
Combining Australia's favorite beer with its most controversial spread sounded like a good idea at the time. Spoiler: it wasn't.
Because nothing says "I hate my guests" like serving them a dessert that's simultaneously soggy, frozen, and crumbling apart.
Breakfast of champions or cry for help? You decide as we explore the soggy depths of this culinary travesty.
When your seafood platter and dessert table have a drunken one-night stand, this is the unholy offspring that results.
"Tried the VB & Vegemite cocktail at my nephew's bucks party. Half the guests vomited, the other half disowned me. 4.5 stars for entertainment value!"
"The Chicken Parmigiana Cereal changed my life. My missus left me, the dog won't look at me, but at least I've found the culinary freedom."
"The Pavlova Ice Cream Sandwich was the hit of my book club! By 'hit' I mean it literally hit the wall when Margaret threw it in disgust. Five stars for drama!"
"As a professional chef, I can confidently say these recipes are an abomination before God and man. I've printed them all out and framed them. Pure genius."