Country Squire

THE IMAGE OF A CERTAIN BLOKE STARING INTO HIS CAMP FIRE WILL NEVER BE THE SAME FOR ROB INGRAM.

MANY AUSTRALIANS have etched into their souls the iconic image of Frederick Mccubbin’s great painting Down on His Luck, in which the pioneering bushie squats on a log and stares into his camp fire. In all of us — at some time in our lives — there’s been the suspicion that life is a bastard. And if ever you’ve identified with Mccubbin’s bushie, you’d have been struck by the landscape at Hotel Dunedoo’s annual camp oven cook-off.

There, in the beer garden beside the pub, more down on their haunches than down on their luck, contestants in the cook-off are staring into their camp fires. Most are men, confirming the long-held belief that men don’t mind cooking as long as danger is involved.

Hotel Dunedoo publican Glenn and cook-off mother-hen Melissa have created an event that is now attracting cast-iron gourmets from across the state. Their quest is to find the Gordon Ramsay of damper, the Curtis Stone of stew, the Heston Blumenthal of ‘signature’ gastronomy… being whatever excites your imagination. Let’s set the scene here. The traditional chef uniform is not compulsory. In fact, the favoured look features a beanie, scarf, shearer’s shirt and Ugg boots. The food, too, generally has a retro informality about it. Camp oven cook-off attendees are more likely to encounter apricot chicken than poulet de provençal.

There’s very little pretension about this level of dining. This is dude food and, by extension, the local contestants have become known as Dunedoods. The informality of the event allows the stew category to also be known as the ‘road kill’ category. But ingredients are impressively creative.

At the camp oven cook-off, the beef marinade — which you might expect to contain black sauce or balsamic vinegar — is just as likely to contain Kentucky straight bourbon whiskey. And if the personalised recipe calls for just 400mls of bourbon from your 700ml bottle, well, your day is only about to get better. Also, there’s none of the pretention of food and wine matching here. What better to drink with pork shoulder braised for five hours in four bottles of Corona beer, than the remaining two bottles of Corona?

While camp fire cooking has links back to remote bush settings and cowboy trails, there’s a lot to be said for a cook-off venue just metres from a good country pub. It’s thirsty work for most of the day… and we all know the wisdom of regular rehydrating. This inevitably leads to an air of accelerating bonhomie as the day progresses. By judging time, appetites and bar sales are at an all-time high.

It’s an egalitarian pastime, this camp fire cooking, but the Tooraweenah contingent brings an air of professionalism to the event. They have racks and pans and griddles. They have grills and spits and smokers. They have tripods and lid lifters and hotpot pliers. And they have a droll sense of humour. “What’s the most important item?” I ask, looking over their array.

“The matches,” says the laconic man from Tooraweenah. And so to the awards presentation. Tiny Lewis from Coonamble blitzed the damper field with his apple and cinnamon entry. The Rick Henderson All Stars won best stew with their apricot chicken — see, I told you — despite Fabian Boyd’s flavour bomb beef stew with herb dumplings and Sarah Farrow’s beef and red wine version. Sarah enjoys cooking with wine and, on this occasion, even put some in the dish. The best signature dish was won by Colette Gordon from Tooraweenah with a delicious presentation of lamb shanks and roasted vegetables.

Mccubbin’s Down on His Luck will never tug at my heartstrings again. Forever more, I’ll imagine he’s staring into the embers waiting to hoe into his bourbon beef stroganoff… with herb dumplings.

IT’S THIRSTY WORK TENDING A FIRE FOR MOST OF THE DAY… AND WE ALL KNOW THE WISDOM OF REGULAR REHYDRATING