We were exchanging "can't-resist" foods at work the other day. A group of us were eating lunch in the kitchen and a slab of decadent chocolate marble cake sat on the kitchen table. The half-open cake box was a taunting, maniacal smile and wink, silently saying, "Come on, sugar, you know you want me. I taste reeeaaal good." Anyone who had 'eat healthy' as a new years' resolution had to avoid the kitchen. Other people didn't even try resisting it; it looked so good (and I'm told the the icing was heavenly, but what would I know, I didn't have any. I swear).
The easy answer is chocolate. The honest answer sounds way worse.
I love a good, fatty, flavoursome cut of pork belly. With super crispy, fireworks-on-my-tongue crackling.
Which is why, when we joined Husband's cousins on an impromptu post-airport drive to Darlinghurst on Sunday, and found ourselves perched on high stools in a simple, small eatery called Mr Crackles, I thought I was in heaven. I also probably shortened my life span by a solid few months, just looking at the cups of crackling, all lined up on the counter. Yeah, you read that right. Cups of crackling.
This genius fast-food joint has fancified good old fashion chicharrón, and is selling future salty, high cholesterol problems in a neat little box. And it's freakin' delicious.
Oh and then there's Crispy Pork Nacho Fries. Coz why the heck not?
So if you're in Sydney and walking down Oxford Street (hell, even if you're not in the area), pop by and try it at least once. Your tastebuds will thank you, your satisfied (slightly fatter) stomach will love you, but your arteries will hate you.