A Story of Pork

I don't buy pork. I don't order it in restaurants, I don't  cook it, I don't eat it, pork just ain't my thing. (Although strangely enough in my own special contrary way, I'm excluding bacon or sausages from the previous statement. Because I'm actually rather partial to a slice of well done smoked bacon in a slice of bread, or a good quality sausage in a fry up.)
No, I'm referring to all the other things pork- the pork bellies, the pork chops,  roast pork, pork pieces, even the humble pork scratching. It's clearly not because I'm kosher,( given my appetite for crispy bacon) and it's not even so much  the taste because honestly I can barely remember what that's like. Nope, my personal  pork ban originated many moons ago from the silliest most ridiculous reason that I'm almost too embarassed to tell you...but I've started so I'll finish.,so here goes.
 When I did Home Economics in school (which incidentally I was so unremittingly bad at, the teacher labelled me senile) we learned ALL about under cooked pork and it's evil sidekick- the tape worm. At that moment ,It's no exaggeration to say that I was a mere whisper from revisiting my egg and onion sandwiches all over the marble effect Lino. To my shame, I do also remember, briefly forcing my revulsion aside as I calmly considered the entire concept as a weight loss aid (the singer Maria Callas apparently did-the tape worm inside chows down on all the grub you consume and you get thinner-genius, in a disgusting kind of way), but alas  I decided it was too drastic even for me, so instead, I turned against all forms of pork (except the aforementioned sausages'& bacon) from that day to this.

Pork a la Emma!

Until... I bought the spring meat hamper on Groupon back in May from a fancy schmancy butchers and in among  other everything else were pork chops and pork steak pieces. The pork chops BBQ stylee were a big hit during the summer, and then last night  I finally made a pork casserole from a recipe I'd gleaned from my action cancer cookbook.
Unbelievably, my first ever pork recipe was a major hit. I didnt eat it myself, but it smelt pretty good- white wine,onions, mushrooms, all served up with crunchy baked potatoes done in the AGA. So then I got to thinking, maybe it's finally time to give these born again pork converts what they want. To help them embrace the porcine.  Maybe I need to try and feel the love for all things pork-yes, it may be too late for me, but is it really fair to deny the next generation of a perfectly good protein rich food? Any thoughts on the subject? Or quick and easy recipes (that involve minimal handling of the actual meat itself) would be mucho appreciated....

Homework for Dummies

I am so completely over primary school homework projects. Last week, when Rory arrived home with his shiny, new 'Life in the Recent Past' folder, filled with blank pages waiting to be filled, a 'helpful' subject related topic chart, and a parents' comments page, all I wanted to do was put my head straight into the freezer. Because, let's not kid ourselves, this is NOT homework for the six year olds -this is torture for the parents, pure and simple. Its time consuming, extensive, and frankly a complete pain in the arse. Gimme a worksheet, reading and spellings ANY day of the week over this shit.
Inevitably, he's I'm given a few weeks to produce the goods, but throw in a Holy Communion, a mid term break, and just everyday chaotic busyness, and what ACTUALLY happens is I pull it out of drawer the night before, and think 'Oh crap! This is due tomorrow and we've done sweet FA...time to get this show on the road. The crucial next step is the sourcing of a varied selection of pens/pencils for the parent comment form, because nothing screams 'night before' more than the amateurish faux pas of using the same blue Biro throughout. Then, its straight into 'Olden Days 101' for  Rory, covering among other things, walking to school with bare feet in the snow,  conkers, Catchy Kissy and Snakes and Ladders.
 I should probably reassure you at this point that I'm not remotely anti homework - in fact, I'm the Queen of homeworks. I spend hours of every working day overseeing, assessing and correcting 4 of them...simultaneously... while  cooking, folding washing and sometimes balancing plates on my head. I even have a smorgasbord of EXTRA homeworks up my sleeve, for when I decree that someone has too little that day or I'm simply in a 'Tiger mother' kinda mood.
 Last night, I happened to be out with a few friends for a meal, and two of us got chatting about the project homework.
'How many pages have you got filled in?'
'All of them'. She seemed surprised at the question. ' You?'
'Two'. FFS .
'Oh? Well, we included pictures of old washboards and photos of old games, but the word on the street is that X's mum actually included a recipe from a hundred year old cook book.' FFS...there's always one isn't there.
 And what of Rory? Well, he punched in a contented half hour cutting and sticking in pictures of microwaves from the Argos catalogue, and our subsequent discussion on how cooking methods have changed over the years went something like this.
 'Rory, have you any idea how people used to cook?'
'Well, I know how Stone Age people did.They took two sticks and rubbed them together and...'
 Ten minutes later and I'm losing the will to live, so I cut in with, ' That's great, but no. That was thousands of years ago, I'm thinking of the recent past, when your Nana and Granda were wee.
 'Ehhh, no. I only know Stone Age.' Let's just say it was a long night.
 But, as a final push, before school this morning, and having actually lost sleep imagining Rory's project on public display as a warning to others, I was motivated to give him a short intensive presentation covering washboards, mangles and chamber pots, with accompanying pictures included and labelled, so I have to admit that this time I'm feeling quietly confident....