When I was a young girl my parents took my brother and I to the Adelaide Royal Show every year without fail. As we were only allowed two showbags each, my brother and I spent days comparing the relative merits of different showbags, using a complicated formula I would be hard pressed to recreate today. The day itself was spent wandering through the animal enclosures, marvelling at the prize-winning produce, watching the various demonstrations, going on a ride or two and oohing and ahhing at the fireworks display.
Every year we indulged in the kind of food you only ever eat an outdoor fair: fairy floss, chips in cups and dagwood dogs. For those unfamiliar with dagwoods, they are a frankfurter stuck on a wooden (dagwood) stick, dipped in batter, deep-fried and plunged into a vat of tomato sauce. They’re really quite dreadful but as kids we used to love them and begged for them every year.
