After about a month of rain (welcome home, Pacific Northwesterners!), we’ve had some days of amazingly beautiful weather recently. Cheeseball and I have been having picnics on the terrace, we’ve all been exploring our town and finding new parks, we’ve eaten lots of ice cream, gone to the Wilhelma Zoo in Stuttgart and all kinds of other lovely things.
We’ve also been embracing buying fresh food daily at the butcher, the bakery, the fruit and veggie (obst and gëmuse) man. Last weekend, the butcher was advertising a special on what I swore was bacon.
Looks like bacon, no? I was a little surprised when they handed me the giant slab of meat and not slices, but whatever. I have a big, scary knife.
It might have cut up better with a less big, less scary knife given that mine sliced right through the small bones in the base of the huge hunk of meat and then I had to dig out the shards.
But, as much as it looks like bacon, I guess it wasn’t bacon. Because it cooked up like pork chops! Super fatty pork chops, shaped like bacon.
I guess it wasn’t cured…? None of us were quite up for super fatty pork chops first thing in the morning, so the dog has been enjoying a rather expensive daily feast, shaped like bacon.
So, tell me, what the heck was it? And what was I supposed to do with it? Was I supposed to take it home and cure it myself? Was I supposed to cut it into fatty, short pork chops? Was I supposed to bread it, fry it and serve it with potatoes? Ha ha ha, just a little German food humor on that last one there, folks.