Roast belly pork

With the ongoing theme of ‘aren’t I a lucky Roy?’ the gent took to feeding me last week. The salads were beautiful and well dressed, the pasta with sausagey tomato sauce was deliciously filling... and then there was roast belly pork.

A Borough Market excursion to meet a sister and neph started with the very best coffee I have had in a long time (Monmouth, of course), and a gent-foraged, sublime, enormous bacon and egg bap; and ended with the wild purchase of pork belly and wine to match.

As I recall, through the heady haze of anticipation, the gent cooked the pork thus: the top was rubbed liberally with salt, the whole thing roasted on a highish heat so the fat crisped. Then the crackling was sliced off the pork. The pork returned to the oven for a bit longer on a lesser temperature, and the crackling put under the grill to do its stuff.

A succulent pig, a delicious evening... aren't I a lucky Roy?!