Tuesday 1 June 2010

And, Relax.

Yesterday saw a rare visit by 30%'s sister and her boyfriend. They are not particularly close but get on well enough so we had a leisurely morning in the garden drinking coffee and exchanging news. Time did what it does so well and flew by. Before we knew it it was half past lunch and we were starving.

30% and I were suffering from a large dose of "can't be arsed" and therefore decided that we should try out the less picturesque of the two pubs in the village rather than rustle up some lunch. The village grapevine had suggested it was well worth a visit as the food was good and the prices were reasonable.

Now with this pub you need to be very careful about how you treat this news as it changes hands more frequently than your average person changes their socks so just because it was good last week when a dog walking acquaintance found it to be "serving excellent pub grub in relaxed and informal surrounds" means nothing. We could well be heading towards a Gastro Pub that has eye watering prices and decides that you really want to see 20% food and 80% plate or even worse a Harvester!

Fortunately it was still under the same Management Team and the food was good. We only had a light lunch but I am tempted back by the menu description of a Ham Hock served on an Apple and Mustard Mash. Probably more "winter warmer" that light Summer Supper but with English weather I should be able to report back within the next few days.

The afternoon saw a tramp round the lanes with Tyson & Marauder and then I retired to the garage for an hour or so to tinker with my latest project.

I have previously mentioned that the Vespa is in an expensive Cheltenham Private Clinic undergoing exotic and expensive treatments as it rightly deserves so my other neglected bike is having to undergo a more "herbal" or DIY approach on its journey to road worthiness. The fairings are off, the plugs are out and the oil drained. I'm now at the point where I need to start putting things back. In a few days it will be a gallon of unleaded, a turn of the key and a push of the starter if all goes to plan.

I had been appointed chef for the evening so I knocked up a Spaghetti Carbonara with eggs from the hens and a piece of bacon that I had cured and smoked a couple of months ago. A side salad and a glass of weak battery acid - sorry a light white wine - suited it well enough.

I've been curing bacon for a while now and am really pleased with the results I have been getting. Done properly there is nothing finer that a decent bacon sandwich and I was getting more and more disillusioned with the excuses for bacon most shops sell. I have had some premium stuff and it is very good but expensive and still short of the mark so I dug out a recipe from the Internet and set to. All of my attempts were edible and deemed good by those in the know but a little trial and error plus a heap of encouragement from a Rare Breed Pig Farmer and Butcher and we are now producing some excellent bacon.

At the moment I don't have a Bacon Slicer so have to slice it by had with a knife - Shame that - I cant get it wafer thin and have to put up with 4 - 5mm thick slices of home cured and smoked bacon. This leads me neatly on to one of my bacon sandwich theories or perhaps metrics. I feel that there is an important bread : bacon ration that once attained or exceeded turns a mediocre sarnie in to a butty of distinction.

This isn't complicated. This is how you do it. Take bacon from fridge and start to cook it. That's it - all of it. Then start to assemble the sandwich. If you partner gasps and says words to the effect of "Your not putting all of that in one sandwich" or the more succinct "You greedy pig" you are probably getting close to the correct bread : bacon ratio.

On the subject of sauce, you can put what you like with commercial bacon but would you ask for ketchup to go with a perfectly cooked piece of Longhorn sirloin that had been hung for a minimum of 21 days? I think not.

Right, when I made the Carbonara I made sure that I left a few rashers for this morning. Breakfast time I think.

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