BALLS AND ALL??

Australian Balls; and no,  we are not talking about sports!


I live in a country that presumes itself to be modern, although an arm's length away from the government's desired 4.0 economic model they are striving to achieve.  

Today's destination is Melbourne.  

My perception of Australia has always been from a standpoint of vast uninhabitable land, cities scattered along the coast, easy going people, nothing eventful happening, with a 'no worries' attitude.

Two things astonished me:

Everything in that country worked, whether it was public transport, tourist bureau. trams,  taxis, local markets, coffee-shops, connecting domestic planes with ease, and the strait-forward Aussie welcoming attitude. The spirit of the people, the expanse of the international mix making Melbourne, Sydney, Perth or even Brisbane not the end of the earth as Columbus might have imagined.

The other was:

The Aussie twang.  It is something I have got to get used to.  As much as it grates the ear, their fun and down home humour balances out the irritating drawl.

So fancying something very macho, "when in Rome...." I decided its now or never.  My choice for the night was the very tempting luscious tasting Australian Balls.  Well they are certainly a country that don't mince words.   Balls tonight, Balls it will be.

White ones, Brown ones and even Black ones.   In life, one must try them all to find out what one likes.  Somehow our choices, cultures, and taste does not stretch that far and we pick the easiest less problematic choice.  The Balls should be  soft and yielding, they are tasty, some are presented with fuzz.   Australian ones are particularly scrumptious and in Melbourne, Flanders Street is where you can satisfy your desire.    Naturally they come in large and medium.   Small are for "pansy's" Australian slang  translated  "a wuss" or  a "wimp"    So Medium Brown Balls is my wish for the night.

The MeatBall and Winebar is what I am talking about in case your mind went wild.  The menu just says BALLS & ALL - they have  Meatballs, Pork balls, Fish balls.  Too much choice.  But I wanted meatballs.

The suggestion was what should my BALLS sit on?  A pile of beans, polenta, creamy mash or spaghetti?  My BALLS were going to perch lightly on Spaghetti.       

As I transported myself to oblivion taking my first bite of Australian balls, I looked up at the busy wine bar discovering the clientele had real macho men of different sizes, tall, trained muscles, groomed beards, loud deep voices with confident strides.  Unfortunately none of these attributes my country produces; I guess effeminate Asian males probably don't eat Balls.   

Tonight as I contemplate my country's far reach plan of the 4.0 economic model, its budget spending on submarines (we have no known enemies in the vast ocean) and return of promised democratic election.  Maybe the world laughs at Australia's  5 Prime Ministers in 5 years.  But I for one, a deep sigh, have no choice but to tolerate what we did not elect.

Balls to that.