My mate Felix posted the following on his Facebook page on the
morning of the NSW State Election in March 2015:
‘Remember, before you vote tomorrow, think first * ....
* oh..and find a good sausage sizzle....’
What a very Australian suggestion, I thought. As you can vote at
any polling booth you like, casting an absentee vote if the booth is not in
your electorate, it seems entirely reasonable to make the best of what many see
as a chore, compulsorily voting, particularly when you don’t want to vote for
any of the candidates on offer, by using it as an excuse for indulging in what Barbara
Santich rightly points out, is an Australian ‘simple culinary classic’, a
sausage sizzle.[i]
As one friend put it in response to a Facebook callout from, me intrigued with
whether others were similarly minded as Felix:
‘We, as a family, were Very Disappointed
to find that our local high school had not embraced the opportunity to cash in
on a dedicated audience for sausos, bacon egg rolls or even biscuits, slices
& cup cakes (as they did for the last Fed elections). Without the anticipation of homemade treats,
sausage fat, onions & plastic bottles of tomato, BBQ or sweet mustard sauce,
the voting experience was soulless, flat and dull, and the school grounds
desolate and characterless. Duty done.’
Sausage Sizzle Darlington Primary School. Photo courtesy of Fred Oberg |
What is this sizzle thing? Here’s is Santich’s description:
‘The sausage
sizzle is a uniquely Australia variant of the barbecue and almost by definition
a public event – no one would ever invite friends to sausage sizzle at home, even if the identical
foods are cooked and eaten. It can be set up anywhere, from the beach to the
supermarket car park, to feed large numbers of people cheaply, free from the
annoyance of smoke. The ingredients and
equipment are absolutely basic; a large hotplate, typically gas heated, plus a
vast supply of sausages, sliced onions, sliced white bread, and unlimited
tomato sauce. Offering mustard, barbecue sauce and other nods to gastronomic
fashion is considered to lift the status, but only by a notch... And like any
simple culinary classic, it lends itself to countless variations – even soy
sausages fit the standard formula.[ii]
The
particularity of its public persona is that the Aussie sausage sizzle is most
often used for fundraising for community or charitable projects. Churches have
always been big on it to raise funds but also to welcome new parishioners and inveigle
the locals into the churchyard if not the church. Schools have incorporated it
into their fetes, P & C mums and dads taking revenge for cuts to education
spending as they char the skins of several kilos of fat pale pink blobs donated
by the local butcher. And what Saturday shopper has not been assailed by the
smell of caramelising onions and the hiss of sausage fat as it hits the
briquettes outside Bunnings.
Just when
the sizzle became such a fixture of the Australian culinary landscape is
unclear. While putting a sausage or other piece of barbecued meat and blackened
onions between slices of carelessly buttered bread and dousing it with a
sweetened sauce has been a long-standing favourite of the backyard barbecue
Santich suggests that the term sausage
sizzle, and, I venture by extension the event itself, ‘seems to have come
into prominence around 1980.’[iii]
Their association with polling days
may have come at the same time or perhaps a little later. Another friend posted:
‘I've
been doing polling booths for the greens for nearly 20 years now and l reckon
they've really taken off on election days in the last 10.’
Santich suggested that the
connection is an extension of the practice of running cake stalls at polling
booths.
Cake Stall at Darlington Primary School. Photo courtesy of Fred Oberg |
‘Once
upon a time, before we were born, and before we were old enough to observe,
women had time (and will) to make cakes, biscuits, jams, etc for worthy causes.
Today the worthy causes start by buying the cheapest sausages, sliced white [bread]
and tomato sauce from the nearest supermarket.’[iv]
Whatever its beginnings the sizzle
has become an integral part of election day, so much so that
Queenslander Grant
Castner set up the Election Sausage Sizzle Site in 2010.[v] Some 323
were registered with his site by 8am on polling day stretching along the East
coast from Ballina, near the Queensland border in the north, to Pambula, just
shy of the Victorian border to the south, and as far West as Goolgowi, around
650 kilometres west of Sydney.
The function of the election sizzle remains raising money for
charities, not for political parties as perhaps might be expected.
‘Hoxton Park High School, a sausage Sizzle
and coffee bar run by the students, to raise money to "trendy up" the
school’s student run cafe, where they love to "extract money from the
teachers”.[vi]
I did postal vote in Bellingen before I came to Sydney. I'm
staying in Pyrmont and my hostess just went to vote up the road. She said the
sausage sizzle was to raise funds for the local Men's Shed.’[vii]
Not every polling
booth has a sizzle.
At Marrickville Town Hall where I vote, electors are similarly
maltreated. This year, for the first time in my 25 years of voting here, the church
around the corner took advantage of this and held a sausage sizzle on a grander
scale, throwing in a cake/coffee/tea stall, a DJ, and a jumping castle. Directions
to it helpfully were chalked on the footpath from the Town Hall to the churchyard.
But where there is a sizzle, its popularity is attested to by
the disappointed late voters.
‘Nothing
left by the time I went to vote!’[ix]
‘Well,
no sign of the sizzle at Belmore South PS at 3:30, though they'd left their
sign up, which drew me in. Not good.’[x]
‘As to the sausage sizzle - you obviously need to get there early.
At 2pm all you could get was the last three bits of sausage, two bacon and egg
rolls and one bacon only roll AND you had to pay $4 each for them! And this is
in an electorate that voted for the Greens - middle
class aspiration in spades!!’[xi]
That last
comment points to the growing sophistication of Santich’s ‘simple culinary
classic’. The humble cake stalls remain - though none of my correspondents
commented on whether here too the offerings are increasingly sophisticated.
‘Great site to find a sausage
sizzle on Election Day next weekend. If you are in The Shire, come on down to Sylvania
Heights Public School. Cast a vote, enjoy a sausage sanga or bacon
and egg roll, wash it down with a cappuccino, then head off home with a plant
and a homemade cake.’[xii]
‘We always vote at Erko Public. Their menu changes through the
day, they had pancakes and brekkie rolls, then the classic sangas etc through
lunch, cake and lemonade stalls, even Erko Love t-shirts.’[xiii]
Perhaps the
clearest indication of the cementing of the place of the election sausage
sizzle in the Australian culinary landscape, however, is captured by this
respondent to my call out:
‘MKR hero Colin Fassnidge manned the BBQ at Malabar Public. It'd
be interesting to know how the voters ranked the sausage sangers /10. ‘[xiv]
Fassnidge
Instagrammed a picture of himself tonging said sausages.
Equally, the enshrining of the sausage sizzle as part of the Australian political landscape is captured by Australia Street Infants School in Newtown promoting its sizzle with a sign that declared:
‘The Smell of Democracy. Eat a sausage on State Election Day and support your local school’
Australia Street Infants School. Photo by Paul van Reyk |
[i]Santich, Barbara Bold Palates. Australia’s Gastronomic
Heritage. Wakefield Press, Kent Town, South Australia, 2012 p146 - 149
[ii] Santich 2012
[iii] Santich 2012
[iv] Barbara Santich in a personal communication with Paul
van Reyk 30th May 2015
[vi] Respondent to the author’s Facebook call out for
experiences on the day
[vii] Respondent to the author’s Facebook call out for
experiences on the day
[viii]
Respondent to the author’s Facebook call out for
experiences on the day
[ix] Respondent to the author’s Facebook call out for
experiences on the day
[x] Andrew Brownlee posting in snagvotes
on Faceboook, an adjunct to the Election Sausage Sizzle site
[xi] Respondent to the author’s Facebook call out for
experiences on the day
[xii] Todd Brunton posting in snagvotes on Faceboook
[xiii]
Respondent to the author’s Facebook call out for
experiences on the day
[xiv] MKR – My Kitchen Rules, a highly popular cooking
competition program on Australian television. Dublin born Australian celebrity
chef Fassnidge was in his third year as one of the judges in 2015.
What a great post Paul, I love it. There were unfortnuately no sausages in sight when I voted absentee down the coast last week.
ReplyDeleteGreat post, good observation. I come from Melbourne, Victoria, and the times when I've voted at the Town Hall in the city, there were no sausage sizzles. But I have walked by numerous schools on voting day here and I never fail to see a sausage sizzle.
ReplyDelete