Never mind the baker of candlestick maker

There's something special about a visit to the butcher in the Village, which means you start to enjoy your meat before you even show it to the grill.

To begin with, there's the display, with animal shaped things hanging up. You go in, explain what you want and a trustworthy looking bloke in a gore stained apron and official moustache carefully selects an animal shape, puts it on a huge wooden knife marked table and, using a variety of blades, axes, hammers and knives, turns a half of a cow./pig/whatever into the cut of choice. once presented with your package you are told how much it costs and you take it to the cashier. She is either a sweet old lady who is old enough to have sailed on the Titanic, or a dwarf, I'm not sure which. Anyhoo you shout the price to her (on the sound assumption that all old ladies are deaf) and then hand over the cash before leaving with your half dozen rashers.

In the back room there is sounds of chopping and you do occasionally wonder what it is you're not being allowed to see.

All in all, a lot better than picking something up from the supermarket that's cellophane wrapped with a picture of a pig on the front.