For good reasons,
For good reasons, just a good 100 kilometers North of London, the small town of Newmarket must have been tucked away as far as possible in the left armpit of the county of Suffolk. This is rural Britain where the “Hogworth Express” takes a sharp left and by missing this turn you roll into the station on Paddocks drive passing “Tor’s Nails and Spray Tanning” by inches.
Since this is HORSE-CITY you would expect on the station drive some thoroughbred horses lined up to pick from that will take you down town. It would give Harry Potters best friend Hermione the shivers for these are the very founding grounds of the PURE-BLOODS. In the 17th and 18th century Arabian, Barber and Turkoman studs were cross-bred with native mares to evolve to the racing horse as we know it today. This means a multi billion-pound racehorse breeding industry is located here, feeding one on three of its inhabitants.
In early morning hours still laying in your warm bed while the rain is ticking on the window you hear horses tiptoeing the tarmac on their way to training grounds. Special road signes ask you to slow down for horses at crossing points and make sure you do so because a fine is one thing but hitting one of those bling bling horses would be an unimaginable financial disaster. The many sport scars, city tractors (also know as SUV’s) and other fancy cars are near to no value compared to these pure-bloods.
I found out that under at the ladder is the value of a human life in this town, by the way they are dressed some are silver spooned, few golden and most lead spooned. As a food fashionista most of the time you will be caught with a spoon in your hand. To scoop up ice cream, some delish soup or other goodies, all in the bag … that is … the stomach. Not willing to end up as a little gnome pushing a wheel barrow with my tummy tucked on it you have to keep moving. So on a rainy sunday afternoon I zipped up high under my chin and stepped outside … brrrrr… .
LET THE HUNGER GAMES BEGIN
In a light pace exploring the area with no other directions than my nose I found myself on a non tarmac road full with puddles. The sky looked like crumbled tinfoil, upcoming was a BMW, the Hammilton road was wide and the many potholes filled with water. Rain was drizzling down making the surrounds grey and bleak. Trying to keep my feet dry I was cornering the water on the side of the road. Before fully aware what was happening the Beamer changed directions and aimed at me! It’s nose seemed to become wider as it came closer, in a split second my instincts kicked in I was forced into the water as I jumped out of the way. In a blur I had the idea that the passenger was aiming his phone or camera at me to record my actions of me avoiding being scooped up.
Little shaken but not stirred I saw the car moving on without stopping , I sent them some “best wishes” as they moved away. Finding my pace again and wondering what just happened I trotted on. But the games were not over and I was not safe yet. Going straight passing from side walk to side walk a car waiting to turn onto the main road saw me coming but still could not hold his clutch any more and tried to overrun me. What is this place where they stop for a horse but try to overrun a person??? These are definitely good exercises for your reflexes as well as for raising your heart rate, but injuries are likely. I must tell you I was almost hit only one more time on my little running tour. Doubting my judgement of traffic rules a taxi driver explained to me that I was right on paper but not on street level.
But furthermore Newmarket is a small town and little gems can be found. As in the “Hunger” Games we all have to eat something and I found the place to shop for it. Hitting one of the hotspots in town the Guineas-Shopping Centre known for its gloomy atmosphere reveals the beautiful butcher shop of Eric Tennant.
Stuffed with local meats and the famous MUSK’S sausages it is a coming and going of clients. The busy buzz of the many sellers with their white hats is relaxed and friendly. As a proper British comedy show like “Little Brittain” you are being served with good advise and a smile. Behind the back counter senior Eric Tennants oversees his team with confidence.
But we still have to cook so we buy a piece of pork shoulder in order to prepare “PULLED PORCK” from the crock pot. A crock pot if you do not know it is an electric slow cooker, two pans fitting neatly in one another with a heating device in between. Putting all your ingredients in and setting the timer is all to it!
Pulled pork recipe
600 grams Shoulder of pork in your crock pot
Two onions in chunks, sprinkled over pork
A bottle good barbecue sauce over pork and onions
Cook on low 6 hours or on high 4-6 hours
How simple can it be
Happy times … You will end up with a good smelling portion of food, all the flavours have stayed in the pot and mingled well due to the slow process.
Serve with rice or cornbread and a good salad filled with fresh fruits, almonds and greens.
Still in one piece, watching my left and right, and with love of course,
The Dutch Cook