Once upon a time, around the turn of the 21st Century, there was an American boy from the South, who found himself living in the Pacific Northwest.
A good thing.
Because there was an American girl from the East, who found herself living there too and they needed to meet and fall in love.
The boy spun yarns from his travels on a laptop and played crazy tunes on his decks.
The girl spun frocks from her yarns on a sewing machine and turned her hair all sorts of crazy colours.
But there was unrest.
For boys from the South like to eat meat on a grill, while folk from the Northwest eat fish in the pan.
What was a boy to do?
Did he lower himself into the kitchens of carnivores on the multi-coloured plaits of his lover?
Did he journey home on a Bar-B-Q pilgrimage?
Did he retreat to a corner to nibble on pea vines?
No, he did not.
He asked not what his cravings could do for him but what he could do for his cravings.
He resolved to celebrate the unloved.
He crusaded to bring awareness to the forsaken.
Long live the even-toed ungulate!
He started the tradition of Pork Week, creating an annual Piggy Party.
From far and wide the gluttonous gathered, bringing Babe bites in every imaginable guise…
When piggy took a dip in a vodka bath he made BLT-inis with a gherkin twist and many were robbed of the power of speech.
When piggy took a stroll in chocolate then a roll in maple syrup he created a Bacon Brownie Bake.
He seemed so right yet so wrong, in a supermodel-wearing-a-bacon-g-string kind of way.
And when piggy simmered in his own fat in pork rillettes the arteries of a crowd tensed and screeched, ‘Sweet Jesus, make it stop!’
Night after night the Pork Kids raved on.
No pig paraphernalia too perky!
No porky pranks too playful!
Going ‘wee, wee, wee!’ all the way home to Hog Heaven.
Pork tacos, Kalua pig, ‘Get-a husband-stew’, shredded pork rolls, prosciutto maize wraps and on and on and on until their Jewish friends wrinkled up their noses and made loud snorting sounds.
But when the feast was over and the guests had gone what next for our Pork lovers?
The restless boy, could he sustain his sizzling salacious streak?
Would not his passion get the chop?
His pretty piglet, did she have no spare rib to tickle?
Were not her pig-skin coats a mite too hairy for her tiny frame?
What pig-headed preposterousness!
For of all the animals in all the kingdom it is known so well the piggy is insatiable:
The swine it dines on mud and laughter,
Our lovers pigged happily ever after.
The Potluck Porktacular Gala Dinner Toast:
We’re gathered together to eat and drink wine,
For the Porktacular gala dinner 2009
But there’s an absent guest we need to toast
We love him in stews, in rillettes, in roasts,
We love him shredded, in BLT’s, in bakes,
In tacos, with cabbage, crostinis and cakes
We love him baked in the oven, wrapped around maize
We love him in vodka, where he’s been bathing for days
We love that he’s pink and stinky and surly,
He’s noisy and messy, his tail is too curly,
He’s greedy and snouty but friendly too,
Beautiful piggy, this week is for you!