Costco gone to the dogs

We nipped – or popped – to Costco at lunchtime. I needed to buy a large chunk of pig to do my traditional Summer Camp gammon, and we also wanted some other bits and bobs.

And their stock was dreadful; NO Beurre d’Isigny. NO kabanos (perlmonger‘s standard lunchtime fare). NO shallots onnastick, or even loose.

But they did have pig, which is now cooking gently in coca-cola, a recipe which has no business working, but patently does, given the way the denizens of Carmarthen fall upon it on an annual basis.

And we got part-baked baguettes and duck breasts and 48 cans of cat fud and parmesan and oak smoked cheddar and some interesting round bread with serrano ham and emmental chiz inside which might be nice for lunch.

The gammon almost went into the huge cast iron cauldron that ccomley brought me back from France. But not quite. So I covered it with a tin foil hat, and weighted the lid down with two bricks.

And the bastard thing has leaked coca-coalesque steam, which has run over the hob, down the front of the oven, and under the cooker and dishwasher. Deep joy.

It’s in the oven now.