Patonga – Preparations and International Cuisine

Patonga – Preparations And International Cuisine  (15.2.2007)

Patonga Creek
Patonga Creek

So, I left Mounties at around two thirty am, on my first Friday back in the bigsmoke – a good time was had by all. In keeping with ancient tradition, I was compelled to stop by and say hello to Ahmed, as he prepared my ‘Chicken one with no onions, cheese and barbeque sauce’. The little fella was still there, sweating away in his little steaming kebab shack – not sure of the hygiene implications of this habit? Perhaps it is this very phenomenon that gives his kebabs their unique flavour? If the truth be known, the occupant of the little kebab van has probably changed twenty times in as many years – hell, I only named him Ahmed two decades ago, as a generic reference to his ethnicity. Whoever they are, in my experience, which was always hammered, at best, those little kebab-men seem a friendly bunch. Their breed do however, have an uncanny predisposition to fancy facial hair grooming. I have observed more permutations of side-burn, eyebrow and moustache combinations on these enigmatic entrepreneurs than one could poke a stick at!

Anyway, among the many things that Darwin does not have, is a Kebab stand – which I think is an open opportunity for an enterprising young man (with exotically styled facial hair, an over-active perspiration system and a caravan), to make an absolute killing – given all the drinkers up here! So every time I go back to Livo, I head to Mounties, get drunk and buy a kebab from Ahmed on the way home – and just like every other time (barring the time that Boneman shouted me one, soaked in chilli sauce!), this one too was beautiful. So’s not to awaken the sleeping Oldies, I snuck in at home, being super quiet (in that drunken, racket-making sort of way), and sat at the table till I polished it off. I grabbed a big bottle of water from the fridge (the Pump kind – so you can drink it without spilling too much, while you are still lying down and half- asleep), and headed for the cot.

I was awoken at about ten am – Mum knocking on the door saying something like “Kerrie says you have to get up now and go to Patonga with them, to help Johnny set up. Natalie’s going too but she has to be back on Tuesday to work. We’re gonna drive up on Tuesday to pick up you and Nat – she said to hop in the shower – you’ve got twenty minutes – she’ll have some nice pizza ready for your brekky when you get to her place!”

I had always planned to visit them at their camping spot at Patonga on the Central Coast of NSW, but in a couple of days time, when they’d settled in (I hadn’t planned on volunteering for the tent-erecting gang on a screaming hot summer’s day). I’ve never been able to say ‘no’ to girls (it’s a long-standing weakness I have) and Nat would make it even more interesting. Natalie’s a young eighteen-year-old chippie who lives next door to Donk – she’s a great girl (most of the time). So I had my shower, grabbed my bag (which was still pretty well packed from my trip down) and headed round for a breakfast of champions.

Next thing I know, after some re-vamped pizza, a bit of internal bickering and stress among the contenders, I was in the old man’s truck and heading to Patonga with young Johnny-Boy behind the wheel, as we ripped along the M7 and listened to JD’s INXS, The Chilli Peppers and the Fooey boys! Donk, Nat and the kids followed behind in the trusty Ford Falcon…..

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