Lo, and naught but a week ago my old comrade-in-arms Nicholas (BBQ Warlord and member of The Brotherhood Of Bacon) crossed the frothing Georgia Straight to my monastery island and entreated me to join him on a glorious quest! (more…)
Taking center stage at this year’s Yule festivities was a very Germanic looking baked ham. The roast beast has been drawn and quartered, the plates licked clean, and there is still enough meat left to fill a thousand ham ‘n marmalade sandwiches.
Also still loitering on the Christmas platter is the bone de le jambon, and from this discarded piece of porcine posterior I got an idea… The Grinch got a wonderful, awful idea. (more…)
Looking back at my formative years in Southeastern Ontario, I’ve realized how many of my memories of Christmas smell like cloves and taste like pig. My mom’s Christmas ham was a beautiful beast. An un-apologetic 1950’s-syle mountain of honey-glazed pork covered in glowing orange slices shot through with cloves. The table would groan under the weight of the unwieldy thing, and our stomachs would groan with anticipation as it was carved. (more…)