Thursday, 26 February 2009

This week I was mostly....

This week, and for the foreseeable future, I shall be mostly wearing black, mostly. Not out of respect for those long since dead you understand and not because I was retreating back to the happy days of Gothdom and all that terrific somberness and wonderful gloom filled malarky. No, I was wearing black for it's magical slimming powers. This was following a visit to the butchers, obviously.


I had bobbed into my local purveyor of quality meat and meat based products to purchase some of his marvelous black pepper sausages, for they are beefy heaven on a plate. I love a visit to the butchers, it's like a big meaty carnivorous candy store staffed by large men with ruddy red cheeks and fetchingly stripey aprons. But something was amiss. Instead of being greeted with the usual booming "Hello sir", from the burly master of the tenderloins I was instead squeaked at by a little fella. Oh something was amiss alright, amiss and awry.

Where was the beefy butcher with the slapped red cheeks? Eh? What had the two little fellas done with him? I was worried that I had stepped through a portal when I entered the butcher shop and was now, in fact, a giant. I sorta liked that idea. Obviously taking acid in the 90's still worries me to this day.

The answer turned out to be really rather mundane, as it always does. These were the sons of the butcher and they even had little butcher outfits on and little butcher hats on and they had rubbed blood on their little pale cheeks to mirror their dad's scarlet complexion. Awh, bless. Either that or there is some sort of genetic defect that runs in the family.

Anyhoo, he asked me what I wanted and I ordered my sausages and then some more sausages and some pudding. Butchers, even little fella butchers, have a fantastic ability to make you buy things you didn't even want. He chatted as he weighed and wrapped my splendid purchases.

"So....cold out today?", commented the little fella.

"Sure is......might brighten up later though," I replied with an uncharacteristic sense of optimism.

"Aye you could be right....a dozen of them pork and chilli was it?", asked yer wee fella.

"Yup give us a dozen......what the hell.....you only die once eh?", said I continuing the cross counter banter. This raised a chuckle from the wee fella butcher and from his brother who was loitering with intent beside the shoulders of lamb. This carried on for a bit with everything from the price of animal feed to who was likely to be headlining at this years Glastonbury festival up for discussion. It was odd to say the least as the kid couldn't have been older than 13.

"You're a happy lad", says yer wee butcher fella.

"No point crying about things now is there?", says I.

"No, no your really are a jolly chap. Not enough jolly chaps like you about and you're not scared of your dinner either are you? Here have some extra sausages", and with that he packs up my meaty purchases and throws in some more for good luck.

Now at first I thought this was a bit previous, did he have the authority to be handing out free sausages willy nilly to all and sundry. And what did he mean by jolly? Jolly is code for fat. You don't live as long and as plump as I have without being able to read the signs. The impertinent little git. He wouldn't be so bloody quick with the witticisms if his da had been a chimney sweep that's for damn sure.

Still, I took the free sausages, thanked him and cycled home manfully struggling with my Noah's Ark of delightful meat. When I got in I had a right jolly old fry up.

Jolly?

Pfft to jolliness and pfft to little fellas in butchers aprons.

24 People trying to get Manuel's attention:

daisyfae said...

the li'l dweeb is 13. probably weighs 97 lbs, soaking wet and wearing SCUBA gear. to him? everyone looks jolly...

eat your meat. on demand and without apology!

ninetyninewords said...

"Not scared of your dinner." Classic. Anthropologists could trace that one back to anywhere with a BT postcode.
And what are you doing eating sausages? Offal in a cellulose tube.

Manuel said...

daisy: I do and I will continue to do so! mmmmmmeat

99 words: not these bad boys they aren't.....so awesome it's not true....

Native Minnow said...

I had to stop buying black shirts when I moved to Vegas. It's too hot here, and you can't wear them 8 months out of the year.

That sausage picture looked tasty.

Manuel said...

minnow: I work in black so at least I got that going for me.....

Medbh said...

Look at him playing the big man. I'm sure his dad wouldn't approve of him handing out free meat, not that you don't deserve the courtesy.

Manuel said...

medbh: I KNOW! I mean his da doesn't give out free anything let alone sausages.....man I could go some sausages right now....

Belfast Plate Carrier said...

it's the same one I'm thinking of they do amazing Ribeye steak. And appreciate when I ask for ones with good marbleing. Nom Nom Nom....

Manuel said...

bpc: we are blessed with three good butchers on this here road.....blessed I tells ye....it's always good when you get what you ask for....

savannah said...

the wonder that is the well run butcher shop *sigh* followed by a fishmonger whose fish have eyes like diamonds...yes, the delight of fresh food and able hands. my mouth waters and my eyes glaze over...xoxo

Jimmy Bastard said...

Be careful of little fellas flashing their beef sausages at ye.

... they might be wanting a pork one in exchange.

Waiter Extraordinaire said...

When you eat the pork just have a bottle of a red from the Cote du Rhone with you and then if you drink it all , this will counter any cholesterol or what have you from the pork. This way you can enjoy and not worry about anything like weight or what have you. Just drink it away. And then go back to writing the book.

Le Nord said...

Butchers are great. Ours used to sell pirate Disney DVDs.

Conan Drumm said...

Lovely.

But was there no wee jolly dog following you home on your bike with the hope of a spare sausage gleaming in his eye?

Manuel said...

savannah: ah the monger of fish......he's miles away that fella.....sake....

jimmy bastard: oooh crikey.....it;s Mj in a kilt.......there's two of them!!!!

steve: or maybe just a big dirty cup of tea.....mmmmmmmm

le nord: hahahahaha......I used to live up west too......!

conan: stop it......stop it unless you are gonna wipe my tears ......

English Mum said...

WTF? I definitely posted a comment here. I can't remember what I said now but it was side-splittingly funny. No really.

Nice sausage.

Sassy Sundry said...

Well, "jolly" is supposed to be good, right? I'm scared of that little butcher.

wendy said...

I want a wee butcher...

AnFearbui said...

Are you paying for all this meaty goodness with a bit of moonlighting, manuel?
http://www.permanenttsb.ie/

Conan Drumm said...

A little wee dog and his tail going ninety to the dozen as you park your bike at home, looking up at you with his head cocked to one side.

He follows in at your heels to the kitchen and yips with pleasure when you take out the pan.

"Yes, Puddin," you say (for 'Puddin' is his name), and his left ear perks up. "We're having a fry-up. Just you and me, pup. You and me..."


Eh, here's yer tissues...

problemchildbride said...

Ah bless the wee soul. He's just trying to fill his daddy's apron, is all.

Did he wrap it all up in paper packages? I always liked the butchers shop even as I cried as a child for the cows and the sheep. Ours had a huge great ox head on the wall that used to mesmerize my tears right away in great wet blinks. Me and all the other children.

Old Knudsen said...

Fat people aren't all jolly, thats a big fat lie.
Good luck on the wearing of the black but its a bit early for a Christmas miracle.

Boxer said...

I recently bought a new pair of "fat jeans" - they were black. I returned them the next day and decided to suffer until I'm back in my old black jeans. Just sayin'.....

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