Thought you were on the Winter thread eh -g- ... cpt, there's an example of how when your sector's out of favour you're out of luck, you just better learn to not hold your breath, you get sold down to ridiculous levels, no one cares, pretty soon you don't either ... not six months ago i remember seeing X-Cal offered briefly at nine cents canuck, and thinking 'well maybe they'll offer it at seven' ... cheaper every tick last week/month, so why not cheaper yet tomorrow
' ... Without placing too implicit faith in the account above given, it must be agreed, that if a worthy pretext for so dangerous an experiment as setting houses on fire (especially in these days) could be assigned in favour of any culinary object, that pretext and excuse might be found in ROAST PIG.
Of all the delicacies in the whole mundus edibilis, I will maintain it to be the most delicate -- princeps obsoniorum.
I speak not of your grown porkers -- things between pig and pork -- those hobbydehoys -- but a young and tender suckling -- under a moon old -- guiltless as yet of the sty -- with no original speck of the amor immunditiae, the hereditary failing of the first parent, yet manifest -- his voice as yet not broken, but something between a childish treble, and a grumble -- the mild forerunner, or praeludium, of a grunt.
He must be roasted. I am not ignorant that our ancestors ate them seethed, or boiled -- but what a sacrifice of the exterior tegument!
There is no flavour comparable, I will contend, to that of the crisp, tawny, well-watched, not over-roasted, crackling, as it is well called -- the very teeth are invited to their share of the pleasure at this banquet in overcoming the coy, brittle resistance -- with the adhesive oleaginous -- O call it not fat -- but an indefinable sweetness growing up to it -- the tender blossoming of fat -- fat cropped in the bud -- taken in the shoot -- in the first innocence -- the cream and quintessence of the child-pig's yet pure food -- the lean, no lean, but a kind of animal manna -- or, rather, fat and lean (if it must be so) so blended and running into each other, that both together make but one ambrosian result, or common substance. '
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