Friday, February 3, 2012

Pork

   I admit it - I like my pork. Pork chops, pork roast, pork belly, bacon, ham, salami, prosciutto, pork sausages, pork medallions.  (Blogger pauses, mops saliva from keyboard).  Before I came here, myself and my wonderful wife tried to overdose on pork. We failed.

    Now that I think it, maybe those memories & dreams of pork must be the reason why my lovely wife has been dribbling on her pillow; not the minor cold she's had lingering for a week.

    We've tried the beef sausages here - and they're pretty good.  In fact, some might even be better then the beef sausages I get back home.  But they're not pork!  And I've long since given up on the two words which should not appear next to each other - beef bacon, otherwise known as the bits of leather which were left over after they'd finished making shoes.

     So after some weeks of remembering pork in all its forms, we were heartened to hear rumours that it existed in this country.  Whispers which we most eagerly chased up.  So after we quietly spoke to a person who knew a person who knew a person who lived around the corner from someone else who had once smelt a pig - we found this....


   Unfortunately it would appear that pork chops, pork roast, pork belly and pork medallions might be off the agenda, but hey - we've got proper bacon & as someone I know would say "Right proper English sausages".

   Any guesses what's on the menu for the weekend? 

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