Rumor has it that I’m pregnant. I’m not. I just get cravings at times.
Two weeks ago, after vegetables and fish for three successive days, I wanted meat in a bad way. Even I was surprised. In our family, it’s an accepted fact that Speedy is the most serious carnivore. On the second day that I cooked no meat at all, I jokingly asked him if he was already going on withdrawal and said he was not. Surprisingly, at the end of the third day, it was I who found myself going on a withdrawal. I wanted meat. Grilled meat. The wicked kind.
So, at midnight, we drove to town, bought barbecued pork, brought them home and enjoyed them with beer. Bliss!
What does the neighborhood barbecue stall sell?
Chicken quarters and pork meat.
Anything that can be skewered gets skewered…
… and thrown on a grill.
But I just wanted pork ears and isaw.