Pork Butt and Parcel Delivery
Wow, a week has passed since my previous ramblings. A week in which I took a break from work. Where did I go? you ask. I think we both know the answer to that one, but it was good to laze in the garden, do some gardening, and just tune out of work for a while. Seeds have been sown, weeds have been pulled, and garden waste has been piling up in the front garden in a little “out of the way” corner that won’t be out of the way for much longer.
It wouldn’t normally pile up of course, but green waste collections have been paused and we can’t take it to the tip. What’s that I hear you say? Have a bonfire? Great idea, except the village Facebook page is boiling over with people complaining about others having bonfires. Not wanting to upset people, let’s just see how it pans out – an untidy corner of a garden is hardly something to complain about at the moment.
Anyway, pork butt. I should say before I continue that I was not eating the back end of a pig, but the shoulder. Apparently, this popular BBQ joint, cut for long slow smoking, looks like the butt of a rifle and that’s where the name comes from. You’d never guess it was American in origin. Oh, you would?
Several weeks ago, in a fit of not quite panic buying, I had planned to do a mega-smoke, creating enough pulled pork for several meals and to stock the freezer up. To that end I ordered a 4Kg butt from a butchers in London. It was due for delivery 18th April which, fortuitously, I put in my diary.
Come the 18th I waited in all day for a delivery. Come 3 in the afternoon I was getting worried so emailed the butchers. They replied with a screenshot from the delivery companies website which reassured me that the parcel would be delivered within the hour. Come 4 in the afternoon still no sign, so I ring up the delivery company. Oh it’s been delivered sir came the cheery response from the customer services rep. Erm, no it hasn’t I reply. At which point I’m sent a photo of my parcel sitting on the pavement – outside the butchers shop I normally go to.
How on earth they mistook a farm shop 2 miles up the road for my house I will never know. However, I was then left in the odd position of having to ring the farm shop. Yeah, erm, I normally get my meat from you but I think you’ve received my meat order from a competitor in error. A bit awkward.
Anyway, the end of today’s ramblings. The pulled pork was lovely and I have 6 more double helping portions in the freezer now. That I’ve had nothing of substance to say for a week, other than a tale of minor loserage, is a good thing. Long may that continue.
Apart from the loserage.