Evadne was a woman who enjoyed food, indeed her friends regarded her as something of a gastronome. She loved experimenting with recipes and was planning a dinner party, so when a neighbour recommended a particular butcher’s shop to her, well, – she had to try it.
She had no definite menu in mind just yet, and decided to ask the man in charge for his recommendations. That way she would get some ideas and see how much he knew.
Evadne was pleased to note that he was dressed as a real butcher should be, in a dazzlingly clean blue and white striped apron, and that although he had a perfectly serviceable and modern cash register, he had a pencil behind his ear. He was not, though an old man, just a traditional one. In fact he was quite young, square-jawed and muscular in the way expected of a man who is required to saw carcasses in half for a living.
She looked around the shop; it was, like the man behind the counter, dazzlingly clean and well laid out. She noted with approval that all the hand-written price cards had the apostrophes in the correct place.
“Hello” she said, after a few moments of taking in the surroundings
“Hello” he replied, knowing as he did the niceties expected in such situations
“I’m planning a dinner party….for eight, and I’m not really sure what to cook. Have you any suggestions for me?”
The butcher had a few; as soon as she had appeared in his doorway some interesting ones had flitted across the back of his mind, several of which involved him appearing at HER doorway, in more than one sense.
“Are you looking for something to roast, or casserole perhaps?”
Evadne shrugged her shoulders “I haven’t even decided that yet”
The butcher chuckled, a gentle sort of sound, and not the sort one might immediately associate with his profession.
“You are expecting me to do all the work?” (He privately decided that he would accept that deal if it was offered)
Evadne blushed. It was a very flattering process which lightly dusted her neck and then got down to some serious pinkening when it arrived at her cheeks.
“I’m sorry. I should have looked through some recipe books or something before coming here”
The butcher smiled broadly. “I’m sure we can come up with something” he said, aware that this was already occurring, and that it might disrupt the stripes of his apron.
Evadne took a notebook out of her bag, and, pen poised to take notes, began.
“I am fussy about my meat; you were recommended to me as a very good butcher. How long do you hang your meat?”
He became expansive – he was proud of his produce. “We hang our beef for twenty eight days, by the H bone which produces more tender meat.”
She was impressed. “Wow. twenty eight days. That’s excellent!”
“I like mine well hung” she added, feeling assured that this would be the case. (The aforesaid apron being a giveaway)
“It’s a process called tenderstretch. Not used here very much because it’s more expensive, but we think it’s better”
. Tenderstretch….. It sounded lovely. Evadne rolled the syllables around her tongue, whilst the butcher considered a broadly similar activity. And whilst she thought about this new information, the butcher also considered her: her hourglass figure (she clearly enjoyed her food in moderation – enough to fill her out above and below but still leave the middle bit untouched) and the pendant which bobbed in the depths between her prodigious baps with every breath. he was momentarily distracted by the thought of making that pendant bob more urgently.
“Eight, you said? You might think of a big joint then”
Evadne nodded. She was thinking of one at that very moment
“What would you recommend?” she asked, feeling unable to make any sensible decisions at the moment
“I can give you a big pork joint” he suggested, causing Evadne to feel even more distracted
“A shoulder” he continued. She looked momentarily downcast, but then he showed her his pork and it was indeed huge.
“Roast that with the fat on.” He advised “Just slit the crackling and push some herbs in to give it extra flavour. It’s best done slowly over a long, long time. All night is best” Evadne nodded. She was the same.
“Then it is so tender you can pull it apart with your fingers”
“Oh!” Is that what is known as pulled pork?” Evadne blushed again at the realisation that she had been misunderstanding it all this time.
The butcher leaned forward conspiratorially “Yes. You can indeed pull my pork”
Evadne was delighted, and she noticed the stripes of the butcher’s apron were showing a promisingly large distortion.
“That’s my mind made up for the weekend” she said with a broad smile “but what about tonight? I need something for myself for tonight”
The butcher thought for a moment “How big is your appetite?”
“Oh I’m really hungry” she replied, fixing him with a gaze from her eyes, which were almost as fabulously riveting as her rack.
“How about some sausage for tonight and then the big pork joint at the weekend?”
“gravy?”
“There’ll be plenty…”
Evadne thought that sounded like a perfect plan
And it was….
