One day, when discussing dinner, Hannes and I got into a righteous discussion about whether or not pork is considered white or red meat. In Belgium calling it red is a no-brainer. In America, the pork industry has spent millions instilling in us the idea that it's a good-for-you white meat. (In case you're interested, upon research, it can be considered either.) After much debate, Hannes threw up his hands and exclaimed the following (read with accent): "Maybe our pigs are different."
What a wonderful, if not nonsensical, way to describe the gulch between our cultures. Now when we find ourselves arguing over brick vs. wood houses, appropriate tipping practices, whether people who can garden have a "green thumb" or "green fingers" and the healthcare system (don't even get him started on that one), we now take a deep breath, shake our heads and resign ourselves to the fact that our pigs are perhaps simply different. Which really is a lovely thought. Because how boring would life be if all our pigs were the same?
Now some pictures from our current Belgian adventure...
A family scene in Lieve and Frank's garden.
The original slot machine.
Looks like Spring, feels like Winter.
My first taste of Honey Beer in Het Waterhuis aan de Bierkant - my favorite beer house in Gent. Hannes chose the Gentse Triple. The verdict? Mmmm.
A border collie stare down.
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Location:Kroonstraat,Brakel,Belgium
The pigs are different (i.e. Ardennes pork). Period. Exclamation point. Hope Hannes put money down on that. When you're not so busy having a vacation, please launch a new start-up for small, sweet beer-drinking pigs that are all flavor and not so much fat.
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