Me ears, theys a bit numb

In the merry merry month of May…

…there’s all seasons weather, in a single day. Today was the first time I’ve played cricket with a runny nose, and hands so cold towards the end of the opposition’s thirty six overs I was hoping the ball didn’t come my way. In case it snapped a frozen finger clean off.

It got worse later in the afternoon, when they were fielding and the wind picked up. One of their guys was claiming to be a medical marvel: still alive, but with rigor mortis setting in. Batting, I was starting to wish I’d brought my helmet. Not for protection, but because my ears were so cold. I even tried some cold-weather sledging. When their danger-man (and top bloke) Gary came out to bat:

“Bloody hell, Istvan” he said “it’s proper ‘taters, ‘aint it.”

“Too right Gary. You want to get back into that nice warm pavilion as soon as possible.”

It started well…

…the garden was wet, but the woods were fairly dry and the dogs came back without bringing too much mud with them. The sky was pretty clear and it seemed to be shaping up to be a decent day.

Then rained…

…at a neighbour’s birthday party, held outside in his fields. Everyone was huddled up in two large marquees, the band were in another, even the hog-roast people were operating in one of those canvas gazebo things.

Looking for BLISS and DLL I walked out of one marquee just as a gust of wind hit, and copped a sheet of rainwater. Cold rainwater, lots of it, all scoring a direct hit on my neck, then running down my back.

Apparently, we’re about to become the proud owners of a pot-bellied pig. Bring it on. I like pigs.

I’m a hog-roast heretic

So, I got a bun with what may as well have been pulled pork in it. Not much favour, no texture at all. The crackling and the stuffing were nice, but in terms of open air cooking, a decent burger would have much more flavour, as would good butchers’ sausages, or, better still, some skewers, with a bit of crunch on the outside, just cooked through on the inside.

The hog-roast seems a lot of trouble, and despite the excitement that seems to arise, examine the results dispassionately, and they’re pretty mediocre, taste and texture-wise. Which is how food is judged, isn’t it?