A streak of luck

Every time I wander into Kingston (that's upon-Thames, not Hull) there seems to be some kind of foreign market.  Sometimes it's a faux French one and sometimes there's too many moustache's to be anything other than a German market.  Today was the turn of the Italian market.

I was surprised, though, by the lack of wildly flaying gesticulation and deafening verbosity.  The market itself resembled any other market to be honest, but I found a reasonably interesting delicatessen tucked away in the corner.  Waiting patiently next to some mortadella (yuck) lurked a rather enticing rectangle of smoked pancetta.


English bacon has its place.  In my opinion it should be shackled to the confines of the full English breakfast or a bacon sarnie where it can be the star of the show.  Pancetta is so much more versatile and can be used almost as a flavouring as opposed to an ingredient in itself.

I think I talked about the marriage between pork and fennel yesterday, and in pancetta you can appreciate this beautiful union again.  I like to use pancetta at the beginning of a recipe, briefly frying it to unlock the spiced fats yielded from within.  


Anyway, I bought about 12 slices of this wonderful, cured, smoked pancetta.  I am going to use it with the rabbit tonight.  I took a picture so you can see a decent Italian pancetta (as opposed to the pre-packed nonsense you often get in the supermarket).