Ach!

The Yard Man told me that his German friend who makes wine also sent canned pork along home with him.  First thing The Yard Man did when we walked in the door from the train station was open his suitcase, eager to see if his German wine and Dutch Brandy (given to him by a friend from the Netherlands) and the three cans of pork made it through customs.

Der vintner-butcher guy

Oh!  He was happy to see that it all arrived safely!




As you may have guessed, Reader Dear, I was ready to sample the wine without delay.  The Yard Man, however, was in the desperate throes of jet lag.  He was off to bed. 

The next morning (yesterday) he enthusiastically opened one of the tins of pork.
"It's Head Cheese!" he exclaimed. "Wow, this is good!"
He proceeded to eat more and to rave about it
"Every year," he explained, "this family (the wine-making one) gets together--all of them, three generations--and they spend a day butchering and canning a pig they have raised!  It's a family tradition."

Viewer Dear, (I must confess) I squirm at the thought of eating anything from the head of a four-footed creature (especially something scraped from its skull [though, (slight shudder) any part, really]).

The Yard Man kept urging me to eat some of that German piggy.
And I tried my best to delightedly dig in; I did (try)!
But...Reader Dear, I think I will need a lot more of that fine German wine that I sampled last night, if I'm going to eat some pig's head!