Once upon a time

there lived a little pig. She did not have a very long or eventful life, but many things happened after she died. Some of her became bacon, chops, and ribs which were enjoyed by people who could afford them. Those who could afford less ate her trotters and tail, and a lucky dog got to chew on her dried ears. Her belly was slow cooked by a gourmet chef and served with hasselback potatoes and a cranberry jus. When what was left of her bones had been put aside for gelatine, the rest went into a huge vat, got churned up and became, variously, boerewors, polony and salami.

Some of the salami from that little pig ended up in my refrigerator and I was happy to find it there yesterday after a glass or three of cold white wine in the middle of the city. Here’s what I did: chopped it up into little pieces (faux lardons, I suppose), into a hot pan with chopped onion and a good handful of fresh sage. When things started hotting up and smelling good I threw in a couple of halved yellow cherry tomatoes, a decent glug of vermouth and when that was bubbling and boiling I seasoned with salt and pepper, gave it a stir and turned the heat way down.

In the meantime I was cooking spaghetti and by the time that was done (9 minutes), the sauce was ready and I turned it off (adding a little blob of butter for glaze), drained the pasta, put the two together, added a bit more sage and let that rest while I loaded a dvd. Final step: into a bowl, onto a tray, sprinkle of parmesan (the packet stuff), and pasta presta. Including chopping time, I estimate that took under fifteen minutes. As they say at elBulli, fast good. Thanks to the pig.

I finished that off with a chocolate I had bought for a friend and then I fell promptly asleep.

The End.

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