General News
7 July, 2026
Meatless Fridays and the working horse
There was great excitement in the homes of working class families.
Firstly the working week had just ended and everyone had two days without having to go to work or school “oh to be without a care!”
Children could be seen walking home with a spring in their steps.
No sign of weary students dragging their bags behind them.
Mum had her hair done. It was often reciprocal with a daughter or girlfriend. She was preparing for a night out on Saturday night.
It often was a visit to the Adelphi theatre to see the latest movie, or the town dance.
But for families all over Australia, Friday night was a fish and chip night.
The no meat on Friday Christian practice was followed universally and created packed outlets.
You had to queue up to be served.
As Australian culture diversified, souvlaki, dim sims, calamari and pizza became common.
Phone orders and home delivery have become the norm.
Uber vans are everywhere.
At Aunty Pat’s in Fitzroy the fish and chips culture was entrenched.
I was usually the one to take the order to the shop and bring it home.
The order consisted of a huge parcel of chips and potato cakes, battered flake, fish cakes and scallops.
They were heavily salted and sprayed with pickled onion juice.
The aroma was over powering and pervaded the grease paper and outer wrapping of newspaper.
A variety of condiments were favoured — they ranged from tomato sauce to HP sauce.
Tartare sauce is now all the go.
If we purchased individually wrapped fish and chips we would break a hole at the top of the newspaper wrap and eat them.
They were very hot and burnt your fingers, but it was the trendy way to eat them.
Amazingly although meat, fruit and vegetables, bread and groceries were delivered, there was no home delivered take away.
It was common to take a pot to the chinese and bring it home.
By far the most popular dishes were chow mein, a meat and noodle dish, and chow ming, virtually the same except it was served with fried noodles.
Equally as popular was sweet and sour pork and fried rice.
At a trendy party, noodles were served in paper cups and fish in chips in small newspaper parcels.
In my early days I can remember when the horse was predominant.
Both my grandparents had draught horses. Pietro on the farm had a pair of clydesdales.
Their hard-working days were at harvest time when they pulled the harvester as a team.
It was wonderful to see them sharing the load. It was obvious that they enjoyed the toil and never shirked their task.
As a teenager I stitched the wheat sacks with baling twine. They were stacked neatly in bundles to be picked up by the drays.
Sharp hooks were used to handle the heavy bags. Although they were cumbersome, the men handled them with ease.
Assessment was made of the finest part of the drop and was put aside for next year’s seed.
A side benefit was the quail nets, which captured the birds in flight as they escaped the on-coming harvester’s noise.
These were a special treat cooked as only an Italian “nona” could — in a rich tomato sauce.
Grandad Charlie, a different man to Pietro, was hard and uncompromising.
His team of clydesdales were stabled at Princes Hill and worked five days a week. The stable floor was concrete and they rarely saw green grass.
The city horses had to deal with many hardships.
One particular difficulty was unloading and reloading on sharp brews (hills). Unlike Pietro’s, they were occasionally shown the whip.
To get a sense of history, Charlie’s father saw Burke and Wills depart on their epic journey.
Charlie as a boy helped his father graze his cattle on what is now the home of Carlton (Princess Park). Some of his photographs feature in the early edition of Carlton’s history.
Charlie’s dad was married at Saint Francis Church in Melbourne in the late 1800s, the name, Charlie, was again used.
It is a name used through the generations.
Charles, like most of his contemporaries, always wore boots, a hat (never off his head — even in the bath), a vest and braces together with a thick leather belt.
Even in his 90s he was an upright imposing figure. At 99 he fell from a moving tram and never fully recovered.
Despite what dieticians say today, he breakfasted on two slices of fried bread (in dripping) and two fried eggs, washed down with a pot of thick black tea.