Firstly let me make it absolutely clear that this post has absolutely nothing to do with Elton John, gay marriage, the adoption of babies by same sex couples, the B&B in Cornwall nor the ridiculous furore which has erupted this week over the Belfast bakery which refused to put “I love gays” or some such on their cakes. No, it’s about my mate Pete.
Perhaps I should also make it clear that Pete ain’t gay either, no, Pete’s from Wales (I have him on my phone as Cardiff Pete) loves his rugby, and often joins us for a beer or two.
Pete is a butcher by trade, spent the recent years supplying them but has recently gone back to his butchers roots.
I was in his shop yesterday, he called me over and showed me his faggots, “what are they?” I asked. I’ve completely forgotten the detailed account that I received but the words liver and offal have stuck in my head.
I’m a lover of liver, kidneys and tripe so thought “why not?”
I won’t be sampling them today, probably tomorrow before I watch the football prima donnas take the big stage, any suggestions as to what to accompany them with, is there a traditional ‘faggot feast’?