Pasta is an excellent, excellent food. The bogan knows this – hell, everyone knows this. But for the bogan, it is extraordinary. It can be purchased at low cost. There are dozens of varieties of pasta and pasta sauce that can be purchased for around $4.50 from the local Coles. For the bogan male, it is incredibly high in carbs, which is perfect for their ‘carbo-loading’ regime they require before they spend 3 ½ hours the next day focusing solely on their biceps. For the female bogan, who conveniently ignores the presence of this fearsome pile of carbohydrates, it is flavoursome and can be cooked in around 15 minutes, while offering the appearance of gourmet cooking, merely by placing a couple of pieces of parsley on top of the Barilla pasta and Dolmio sauce.
But the bogan, when presented with a shortcut, cannot resist. Restaurants have arisen, and been embraced with the ferocity of semi-formed bogan teens at the opening of the latest Supre superstore. These restaurants have successfully targeted precisely the appropriate bogan pleasure zones to elicit a mass spending response. La Porchetta’s (and its ‘gourmet’ cousin, Sofia) have emerged in fully-formed bogan form, popping up at dozens of locations near to bogan nesting and activity zones. While bogans love rhyming in their products, they do not ask for “cheddars on their Porchetta’s”, instead demanding that their Porchetta’s be concreted with a 6mm thick parmesan layer.
Most restaurants start small, looking to make nice food, and slowly build a following. When it becomes clear that bogans enjoy fast food, but like it even more when it is in the guise of full-service dining, the race to the bottom tends to begin. Not for La Porchetta’s. They saw the bottom and honed in on it like a Predator drone on a Pashtun wedding party. La Porchetta’s is cheap (tick), fast (tick), is franchise branded to enable the discerning bogan to trust it (tick), gives the imprimatur of fine dining (i.e. it has table service. Tick), and offers a mass-produced, tasteless version of international cuisine (tick).
The bogan also likes big things taken to the x-treme. La Porchetta’s know this. Hence the unwitting bogan will arrive at the restaurant looking for a solid feed. It will, naively, order the main course-size ravioli bolognese. Four minutes and seventeen seconds later, a waitress emerges, groaning under the weight of carrying the bogan’s three-kilogram heaping of flour, water, tomato and beef mince. The bogan is thrilled. One mountainous helping of gelato later, they are ready to leave. As they do, the male bogan cannot help himself. He turns to his lady, chuckles and says “I feel like a Dolmio grin”…
A fairy dies.