My Winter Vacation - Meat
The Butcher of Brittany has been given artisan status by the French government. All that means, really, is that he's registered and approved by the state, resulting in higher taxes to match his street cred. But people travel for hours to buy the Butcher of Brittany's meat, because it's so fresh and delicious.
We saw two unassuming heifers driven 'round back, enjoying the fresh air, while at that very moment their former colleague was being sliced up in order to become that night's beef burgundy.
And oh, she was delicious.
What impressed me almost as much as the freshness of the Butcher of Brittany's cuts of meat was the giant wood slab upon which he worked. It's about seven feet long and features a dip in the middle almost big enough for skateboarding. That's years of cutting meat, friends, with the proper health code sand-down every evening.
And the place was surprisingly clean, for a joint dealing with raw, bloody flesh. It sparkled, even. Although that could've been my hunger blinding me.
Labels: holiday



3 Comments:
But did he sell Haggis?
The French don't do haggis. But there was an intestinal-based sausage he let us try...
"intestinal-based sausage" - Wow, you make it sound so appealing...
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