How to Adult: The Artistry of Tight Arsery | The G&G

How to Adult: The Artistry of Tight Arsery

Hey, remember that time we had a s**t tone of money? Yeah, no, neither do we (fun game though!). If you’re anything like the team at G&G, your either eating or wearing your weekly pay cheque, and the last of your savings fell somewhere between ‘my shout for shots’ last Friday and your couch cushions.

It’s been a fun ride, and while we’ve now got Brisbane’s most extensive collection of out-of-house appropriate elasticated pants (you’ve done us proud, you stretchy bastards), the steady years of Brisbane’s best pork belly, confit duck and cuts of wagyu was bound to come to and end at some point (RIP designer food-baby).

Short of taking out a second mortgage (lols, just kidding, with the amount of brekky avo we’ve been consuming even the first one’s been unattainable), or putting capsicums through as onions at self serve, we’ve found totally attainable and monetarily mindful ways to eat your way through Brisbane city without looking like a white-bread wielding pleb (no offence though, white bread, you hold a really special place in our hearts).

Step one: cook at home.

Look, we completely understand that a realistic version of ‘step one’ is to ‘meal prep’, which is a dirty word in our dietary dictionary, so instead, your new step one is to avoid the supermarket.

Yes… please put down the $6/kilo vegetable you’re holding, walk yourself out of there, and read on instead. As much as your heart is yearning to utilize one of your many at-home kitchen appliances, you can learn to use your rice cooker another day.  

Skip step one, is what we’re trying to say here. Move onto step burger, beer, and to our fun filled equivalent of the tight arse’s food pyramid (see also: arsetighterus pyramidious) – because who can afford nuts these days (taking macadamias from your parents pantry doesn’t count)?

Go off the beaten track.

Contrary to popular belief (and to the dismay of bars and restaurants with excellent branding), the places that use Comic Sans in their signage and look like they’ll give you tetanus before you can order a number 6, 13 and 22, are often not only the most authentically delicious, but the cheapest by far.

Bonus points to the places so  ‘lax that you can double down on the trend-o-meter and dine in your Birkenstocks. Because who doesn’t want to eat questionable sushi in their hundred-and-twenty-dollar sandals?

Get inventive.

Get freaky with your food groups and instead of grabbing yourself a tender piece of thigh or a handful of juicy breast (catchya laterz expensive grilled bird), go full Jason Derulo and talk dirty to the menu with an offal lot of brains, kidney and cuts of liver, because they’re not only cheap but also totally in vogue with top to tail cooking.

Catch the trend before it jumps on the same bandwagon as second hand 60’s safari suits, though – soon they’ll cost more than their brand new, non-organ counterparts.

The buddy system.

Nothing says friendship like Lady and the Tramp-ing a bowl of spaghetti between two, so find yourself a poor buddy and start splitting things! (Bills, bowls, drinks rounds and your sides when you’re both laughing about how goddamn broke you both are… it’ll be great).

We’re everywhere, just waiting for someone to ask us to share their $4 IGA sanga, masquerading as normal office workers, well-to-do adults, and stylish Insta-babes. Don’t let the Gucci belt at Soho Sundays fool you – there’s people out there looking insta-fab just ready and waiting for a poor buddy like you (lucky for the Sunday socialites, they’re also hocking $4 pizza’s downstairs – so now you can have your piece of $4500 investment-handbag-cake and eat it too – phew!).

Three letters baby – B. Y. O.

Suss out Brisbane’s best BYO hotspots (here’s some we prepared earlier) and save yourself some serious slosh dosh.

It’s really important to stay hydrated when you’re crying yourself to sleep at night filled with existential dread. Plus now you’ll be doing it a little boozed and we all know that’s like a warm hug.

And where all else fails…. Mi Goreng. 

Words by Lucille Burkitt