...and reminiscing.

Yes I mean what you think I mean. What a foul turd of a song. I dropped this black satanic plum during my iPod DJ set in Bergen (everyone gets 5 songs) and it just stunk up the room for about 8 minutes. I thought it would be funny, and it was just barely amusing for all of 30 seconds. The albatross and the whales were not my brothers that evening, let me tell you.

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But the reminiscing I'm talking about here is of a very different sort, possibly the best sort: pork. Lately I find myself thinking, "Hey, it's great that you've documented so much of your summer on your silly little food obsession journal that you call a blog," and then I come out here, and there's nothing.

And that's because it's all on eGullet. So here is the first in a series of attempts to at least get the pictures from this summer's adventures up here for non-eGulleters to marvel and wonder at.

We begin with the Kwakoe Festival. I went both 1 week before it ended, and then again on the last day. There were marked differences in everything but the smell of pork, that was the same.

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