Gerry’s Pittes


133 South Rd, Braybrook. Phone: 9311 9383

Exchanging dough for baked dough at Gerry’s Pittes – “First & best in Australia since 1969” – is an odd experience even by the sometimes quirky standards of the western suburbs.

I’ve been alerted to Gerry’s and the wisdom of investing in some of his bread, by Consider The Sauce friend Rich, who wrote:

Ever done fresh Gerry’s Pittas from the factory/shop front in South Road, Braybrook? Just down from that Viet place (Quan Viet) you covered a little while back. $7ish for a fresh bag of 20! Awesome for pizzas and brilliant with a lil’ butter and pan fried for a minute, a tiny squeeze of lemon goes well too. They’re open early till about 3 or so during the week … I know its a lot but thing is you can freeze ’em and they still come up well after 20 secs in the micro. They freeze well for me … but @ $7 for a bag of 20 … and the fact they have made me salivate in a ridiculous manner for many years – it’s worth the gamble.

Suzy, another Consider The Sauce buddy, chimed in, too:

You should check out Gerry’s Pitas in the same strip. Ring the bell to buy direct best Greek pitas going.

So here I am, standing in front of a plain, unwindowed shopfront in Braybrook.

I do as the signage instructs me and depress the busted-up bell.

A minute or so later the door is opened by a flour-dusted bloke who utters a few words in Greek to me then inquires in English what it is I want.

“I want some pita bread.”

“How many?”

“How do you do them?”

“Bag of 20 for $7.”


The doors closes, preventing me from inhaling any more the of delicious baking aroma coming from inside or trying to get peek of the operation, leaving me somewhat bemused.

Have I ever gazed upon a flour-stained footpath before?

I don’t think so.

A few minutes later, the bloke is back.

He takes my money, gives me my bread and makes change.

Surely, since this operation has been in operation since 1969, this guy is too young to be Gerry?

I ask him.

“No – I’m the supervisor,” he says before briskly consenting to having his photo taken and closing the door once more.

This transaction has been singularly lacking the sort of warmth I value so much, but that’s kind of neat in its own way.

If or when you ever have a late-night kebab from one of the kebab shacks/caravans, I reckon there’s a pretty good chance this is where its wrapping will have come from.

But saying that seems like doing these breads something of a disservice.

The freshness is the thing.

My breads are still warm when I get them home a few hours later, and when opened the bag emits a tantalising reminder of the previously enjoyed bakery aroma.

It’s a lot heavier than Lebanese-style pita. Eating one straight out of the bag is quite a lot like eating ordinary bread.

This is certainly value for money, with half of them going straight into the freezer.

I like Rich’s idea of giving them the frypan treatment. That’ll go sensationally well with the Greek salads that are among our favourite meals.

And with quite a hefty density, I can see them standing in for the supermarket rotis, parathas and naans we’ve been seriously unimpressed by whenever we’ve tried them.

One’ll get a test run with tonight’s dal.

And I know Bennie will love them a whole lot more for school lunches than the breads and rolls that have been our routine to this point in time.

Cross-cultural hot dogs


We do love hour hots dogs and frankfurters.

Most regularly we keep a bunch of beef dogs from Al Amena in the freezer.

Sometimes we splash out on the smoked – and much more expensive – versions from Andrew’s in Anderson St, Yarraville and elsewhere.

Problem is, we find when eating them in traditional style – in a roll – the balance of meat to bread is out of whack.

No matter what kind of bread roll we use, there is too much of it compared with the frankfurters, making two of them quite a big ask even when we’re really hungry.

So routinely we split the bread rolls lengthways and scoop out the soft middles, leaving hot dog receptacles that look like canoes.

Load up with franks and our choice of extras and condiments, and we’re happy.

However, our most recent hot dog frenzy took a different turn initiated by the happy presence in the fridge of a bag of fresh pita breads.

Place hot dog on half a pita bread; dress with homemade roast red capsicum, dijon mustard and dill pickle; roll up so it’s like a big fat cigar; eat.

(Roll up one end as you would with a kebab so the goodies don’t ooze out!)


And with a bread/meat balance pretty much attaining our ideal.

(We had an earlier version in our hot dog dinner that had the above ingredients PLUS chopped tomato. Turns out the halved pita bread is very moisture sensitive. Turns out, too, the mustard, capsicum and dill pickle provide enough flavour lift and moisture to do the job without the doggy wrap falling apart before its eating is completed.)

We sometimes also avoid the Bread Problem entirely by having our dogs with our version of spud salad – roughly mashed or chopped skin-on potatoes with olive oil, salt, pepper and a handful of chopped parsley.

I googled “cross-cultural hot dogs” and was surprised to find the results mainly concerned with curry powder and franks of various kinds, along with some interesting results obtained through introducing Japanese elements such as bonito flakes.

Funny that – I had a hunch that a universal dog may’ve had just as much cyber action as, say, the many variants on deep-fried dough or the countless genres of fried rice.

Hot dogs: What works for you?