More pork

When we were young, blade bone of pork was a widely available, reasonably cheap cut of pork. Not too big and it suited the two of us quite well: we had it reasonably often. But not for years and years.

Then a couple of weeks ago, into the Manor Green Road butcher on the off-chance for a piece of rolled shoulder, where the butcher pulled a whole shoulder out of the cold room. Blade bones entered the conversation and yes, I could have one. Deftly removed from the shoulder with a large knife, the heavy lifting of detaching the hand from the blade bone socket (bottom left in the snap above) having already been done.

Snapped above, salted and ready for the oven. The telephone seems to have done something odd with the colour and texture of the meat, with all four shots suffering in the same way.

So long since we last had one, I don't remember whether they came with crackling, but this one certainly did. Not strapped on after butchery either.

1.75kg, 3lbs 14.5oz otherwise. The Radiation cook book says low temperature (160°C or Mark 3) for 33 minutes to the pound plus 20 minutes. So in the pre-heated (fan) oven at 11:10, aiming for around 13:00. Not a very round after all.

Looking good at 12:45 and thought that we might be ready to go at 13:05. Gloves from Lakeland, much better than oven cloths or big floppy mittens.

Prepared the brown rice and Brussels sprouts. Roux'd up some of the fat with flour in a small saucepan (properly so named on this occasion). Washed out the roasting tin with the rice water, stirring the result into the roux. Looked pretty good.

Oddly different colour in this snap, taken just before the off at 13:20. In the event, the cracking was very good and the meat was pretty good, although I think another time I would cook a piece this size another 20 minutes or so.

The Brussels were a little past their best, and greens might have been better, were any to have been had in Epsom. The gravy was good enough, though not as good as in the days when we used to roux up directly in the roasting dish. The days when gravy dipping over the stove with fresh white bread was part of the Sunday roast ritual.

On the plate. A spot of white wine from Majestic visible top left.

In the interval before the traditional orange jelly, BH remembered about my bread, which was having its second rise in the other room. Which was lucky as the second rise is rather temperamental about time and one needs to keep an eye on it as the dough rises to the level of the rims of the tins - at which point it is time to put the oven on. Too little time and the bread does not rise very well, too much time and the bread is apt to to bubble badly. Possibly even collapse, which is not good. It never really fully recovers.

Snapped above, towards the end of the first shift. Proceedings wound up with a spot of Calva for him, instant decaff for her.

BH took the brown jelly at the bottom of the drained-off fat on toast for breakfast the following day.

Blade bone more or less polished off at lunch a couple of days later. Served cold with mash, long stem broccoli, carrots and what was left of the gravy. Which last did rather better on this occasion than it had on the first. Carrots rather good on this occasion too, premium carrots from Sainsbury's, sliced crosswise and cooked (by BH) to a turn. They earned their mention in dispatches.

This second, smaller helping being rounded out with apple crumble and custard. No Calva this time around.

What little was left was chopped, added to what was left of the gravy and served hot on brown bread at tea time. All very satisfactory.

Verdict, a good but no longer cheap cut. To be tried again, perhaps cooking it a little longer - but taking care not to brown the crackling too much.