Spring is bacon time!

Another local-pig-done-good story. Jordandal Farm, I think.

Honestly, what season isn’t? But it warmed up quite a bit last weekend, my friend Mike had a couple of pork bellies and a butterflied shoulder he’d cured, and I was the one with the smoker. As we learned, bacon is very, very easy to make (I direct you to Charcuterie). Especially since all I had to do was throw it on the smoker and wait a few hours.

In the meantime I went for a motorcycle ride in the sun, stopped by the Community Supported Agriculture crowd at Monona Terrace to pick out a CSA, and had a lamb crepe and espresso with my man-friend at Bradley’s, near the Capitol. When I got back there was a delicious smell, accompanied by only the merest twinge of potential guilt at the likelihood that one of my East Side neighbors is vegetarian. (It seems like that kind of place.)

As Sundays go, it was well spent.

For reasons I cannot yet disclose, I do not get to eat the bacon. The scraps I appropriated are divine, though.


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