Friday, August 27, 2004
Livin' Low On The Hog
The phrase "living high on the hog" refers to the expensive meaty cuts of pork enjoyed by the rich. These prize chunks of flesh come from the back and rump of the pig, literally high on the hog. In his new Meat Cookbook, Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall espouses a policy of responsibility for the care of meat animals, a thoughtfullness towards the morality of carnivorism, and respect for the carcass by making use of all parts of the animal. With this in mind I set out today to buy some unusual bits of pig. My choice of butcher was The Ginger Pig, which does a good line in organically reared Tamworths, and Gloucester Old Spots. I'd decided to brave pig's ears, and trotters. This latter choice was especially brave, following a near catastrophic clash with pig's trotters at Le Hameau Albert 1er. On a now infamous occasion I attempted to tackle: "Le menu cochon, une degustation du cochon entier, de tete aux pieds". This Michelin starred menu comprised nine courses of pork, beginning with brawn (head meats), and ending with deep fried trotters. As I tucked into this ninth course my entire body was racked by nausea and pain, and I was forced to flee the restaurant, collapsing outside in the snow, a victim of my own gluttony. Anyway, today I wanted to vanquish the ghosts of that terrible night, by tackling trotters afresh. The butcher looked only faintly surprised at my request. But what he did next certainly surprised me. He stepped into his glass fronted refridgerator, and in my plain view began to hack off six ears and two trotters from the hung carcasses. Ears cost 25p each, and trotters 50p a piece. Once home I examined them gingerly. The ears are rather disgustingly hairy, and the left ears still have the identification tatoos of each donor pig. Luckily for me, my new cookbook demanded four hours of simmering time for trotters and ears, which I hadn't budgeted for. I got to enjoy the more prosaic pleasure of Nobu's tomato ceviche. But rest assured I shall report back tomorrow on my "low eatin'" experiences.
Crazy flash Twin Peaks-esque porno-mation thingy du jour (NSFW): The Hills Are Alive.
Nerd Porn Auteur: "Buy stock in some hand cream companies because there is about to be a major shortage."
Pleasure Boat Captains For Truth Huh, a company that does stuff. "Our office is really modern and we've got nice computers and stuff. If you ever saw it, you'd say "Wow, cool office. These guys are legit.""
$1000 laptop/iPod case based on the Supreme Dunk Huh? Huh! I don't get it. (via)
When you quit work to become a Beanie Baby authenticator, and get the license plate BBABIES, you should figure your obsession has gotten out of hand. (login: latimes1 password: latimes2)
More flash games than can really be good for you in one go.
The stars of hip-hop: what their mommas named them. Weirdly Lumidee's real name is uh, Lumidee.
My Little Pony remixed with Justice League of America: Ponyfied.
The phrase "living high on the hog" refers to the expensive meaty cuts of pork enjoyed by the rich. These prize chunks of flesh come from the back and rump of the pig, literally high on the hog. In his new Meat Cookbook, Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall espouses a policy of responsibility for the care of meat animals, a thoughtfullness towards the morality of carnivorism, and respect for the carcass by making use of all parts of the animal. With this in mind I set out today to buy some unusual bits of pig. My choice of butcher was The Ginger Pig, which does a good line in organically reared Tamworths, and Gloucester Old Spots. I'd decided to brave pig's ears, and trotters. This latter choice was especially brave, following a near catastrophic clash with pig's trotters at Le Hameau Albert 1er. On a now infamous occasion I attempted to tackle: "Le menu cochon, une degustation du cochon entier, de tete aux pieds". This Michelin starred menu comprised nine courses of pork, beginning with brawn (head meats), and ending with deep fried trotters. As I tucked into this ninth course my entire body was racked by nausea and pain, and I was forced to flee the restaurant, collapsing outside in the snow, a victim of my own gluttony. Anyway, today I wanted to vanquish the ghosts of that terrible night, by tackling trotters afresh. The butcher looked only faintly surprised at my request. But what he did next certainly surprised me. He stepped into his glass fronted refridgerator, and in my plain view began to hack off six ears and two trotters from the hung carcasses. Ears cost 25p each, and trotters 50p a piece. Once home I examined them gingerly. The ears are rather disgustingly hairy, and the left ears still have the identification tatoos of each donor pig. Luckily for me, my new cookbook demanded four hours of simmering time for trotters and ears, which I hadn't budgeted for. I got to enjoy the more prosaic pleasure of Nobu's tomato ceviche. But rest assured I shall report back tomorrow on my "low eatin'" experiences.
"We, the men who were served drinks alongside George W. Bush, have partied with real party animals-- on the shores of Lake Tahoe, up and down the Gulf of Mexico, in the harbors of Kennebunkport. We have seen good men down a dozen kamikazes, and then swim once more onto the beach. We have watched the buzzed and brightest of our generation play beer pong until they were bent double, like beggars under sacks. We have known these party animals, and we have partied with them. And George W. Bush is no party animal."
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