Of late, I have been
writing some reflections on the suburbs. I grew up in the suburbs and consider
myself a suburban person more than anything else, at least in terms of
identity. It has the possibility of being a different kind of being that comes
after some others; it is located; and for me, it feels like a true reflection
of who I am, by experience and upbringing.
So, what is happening
in the suburbs when it comes to food? Lots of things are happening there; and,
a lot of my previous posts have featured suburban restaurants, from Monsterella
to Claremont Bunnings to Subiaco Farmers Market. It is impossible
to write about the suburbs in any complete way, other than to suggest they are
capable of diversity, richness, and pleasure. They are a place that is a world.
Some of my favourite places are suburban, especially the Wembley Food Court.
If this blog started on
the Upper West Side in New York, it has come to rest in the suburbs of Perth
(at least for now). Perth does suburbs very well, which is to say it balances
the city and the country, synthesising them into something better than the sum
of their parts.
Now, I do like a
suburban adventure, but what makes it suburbanist? It might be necessary to
suggest that a suburbanist experience of the world is the negation of a
suburbanite in the popular imagination, which is to say that it is the opposite
of the alienated, late-capitalist, isolated, individualist, regulated. Being a
suburbanist is a good thing. It is a true thing with meaning, value, reason,
beauty, and importance. This being a Sunday, I felt like I needed something
like that, and, given I have recently moved from Wembley to Mosman Park, I
wanted something local that would satisfy me.
Enter Twin Beaks.
Twin Beaks is an
occasional fried chicken burger pop-up in North Fremantle. It is a
twenty-minute walk from my house and is run out of a garage by an enterprising
trio Duncan, who I had met before and recall as a very nice bloke, took the
orders, while Max, who I recognised by name, fried the bird, and the third,
seamlessly readied the burgers before they were placed in their cardboard
boxes. The chicken portion is generous with a crispy bready batter; the slaw a
crunchy complement; and a choice of many sauces slathered on there. You can
choose two with one on the bottom half of the bun and the second on the top –
this seems like a very good idea, because it helps you retain the moisture
without squeezing the sauce out because of excess at the top. I liked that
feature most of all.
But, perhaps what I
like about Twin Beaks, is how suburbanist it is. By this, it is small scale,
local, artisanal of a sort, well intentioned, fun, tasty. It sees the potential
of the suburbs for what they truly are, and, works with it to produce the first
suburbanist burger I have ever had. This is not the home-made rissole slapped
on a BBQ had in the backyard, but nor is it the fast food drive through that is
replicable anywhere in the world. This one had soul, or, to put in the language
of my in-law, a bit of mabarn. And
that indefinable something is what sets it apart. I cannot wait for it to show
up, wherever it does, whenever it does. I will walk there from home again even
if it means crossing a highway, rounding a river, and stumbling home in the
dark. Superb.
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