Perhaps my idea of a steak sandwich is a bit plebian. I had a vision of a porterhouse pounded out a little, some slices of rich red tomatoes, some mustard and fancy lettuce on a piece or two or granary bread. Luckily the Euroa Cafe was there to amend my expectations;
1. Instead of bread, the steak sandwich began with a cheese roll - yes, a stale white cheese roll from the bakery. To be fair, the staleness was offset by a good soaking in soggy melted butter.
2. The top layer was melted Kraft cheese, that plastic, rubbery, individually wrapped slices of cheese we refused to eat even as kids.
3. Under that, purple onion and cabbage chopped up and cooked into a fried egg. The purple leached out and created little patches of blue in the egg. At least, I hope that's why the egg was blue.
4. Now a layer of bendy grated carrot, coleslaw style. I don't know why, I don't know why, maybe I'll just curl up and die.
5. Ah finally, the steak. Cooked grey, chewy, cheapest cut skirt steak. UN-MISS-TAEK-A-BLEE rancid. Yes, the meat was OFF.
6. Slathered with sweet chilli sauce. I don't object to chilli sauce, in principle, on somebody else's plate. But I wasn't even given a choice here. Or a warning.
Once I'd finished, my plate looked like a gastro war zone. I had dismantled the layers, scraped off the chilli sauce so it was sitting in a puddle of butter oil on the side, but I'd accidentally put the meat in my mouth and chewed before I realised it was rancid, and then I had to spit it out. Surely my returned plate should give the kitchen a clue. If not, here's another one - DANGER WILL ROBINSON. DANGER.

Approximate cost: $15