Sometimes in life you lack perspective. Sometimes you’re just too close. To the situation, to the person. Sometimes untenable attitudes or ideas become normalised. Like they’ve always existed, like they cannot be questioned.
In cases like these it often takes a fresh set of eyeballs, a rogue outsider. It takes that radical voice in the crowd to shatter the illusion. The emperor has no clothes.
Today I am those eyeballs. Today I am that outsider. Today I am that voice in the crowd.
Australians, far and wide, I am sorry. This is the harsh truth I must bestow upon you. It’s going to be difficult, but you must hear this now.
Fairy Bread is an abomination.
Search your heart. Search your palate. You know it to be true.
Fairy bread. It is bread — white bread for that matter — doused in butter and drowned in sprinkles, a bizarre concoction that is literally sugar, cornstarch and vegetable oil. Australians eat this. Australians celebrate this.
Australians feed this to their children.
The first time I saw Fairy Bread was at a children’s birthday party. The fairy bread’s natural habitat. Next to the cupcakes, sandwiched between the red cordial and the party pies.
This is a P-A-R-T-Y situation, I recognise this. A moment for kids to cut loose, snort that pure cane sugar through their nostrils and feel fucking alive. As a parent of two kids under the age of five I would never deny them this carnal pleasure: to eat things that are terrible for them; activate fucked parts of their brain so they can get on that bouncy castle and make it their bitch. I am not the party police.
But Fairy Bread? Really? Is this what we’re gonna be feeding them? If we’re giving our kids carte blanche to get buck wild in the club we at least owe them a better class of snack. We at least owe them cupcakes or jelly and ice cream. We owe them a Golden Gaytime.
Fairy Bread is trash. It’s bread, which is shit. White bread, which is even worse. It’s bread combined with an otherwise forgettable ice cream topping. For no good reason butter is involved, presumably for its adhesive qualities, which is also overrated because if you’re making Fairy Bread at home you best prepare to be finding sprinkles in your carpet for months to come.
Flavour-wise, Fairy Bread is an odd choice. Nutritionally speaking it’s a bizarre living nightmare from which Australia refuses to wake. I grew up in Scotland, I know all about poor diet choices. From the age of 14 to 20 I drank literally nothing except milk and Irn Bru. We deep fry Mars Bars.
But I am in a unique position. I did not grow up in this cult. My childhood has no trace of Fairy Bread or its influences. My nostalgia is contained to Spectrum 48ks, Trapdoor and Fizzy Dizzlers. Fairy Bread has no power over me. I can bring you this important message and it doesn’t feel like a betrayal of my national identity. Fairy Bread is wrong, it’s a catastrophic, culinary error and that error must be rectified.
I cannot abide. The standard you walk past is the standard you accept. Fairy Bread is an abomination and Australia deserves better.