This isn’t a story about how there are no ethical billionaires. It’s not a story about how parasitical the rich are. No, this is a story about sauce. Sauce is life. And if you eat your meals without sauces or dips, then maybe you’re the real monster in this cannibalistic scenario.
I may be a vegetarian, but I have absolutely thought about which sauces and cooking methods I would use if I found myself in the possession of some “long pork”.
~ ~ ~
“I can’t help it. I’m a sauce girl,” she said, licking the aioli from the tip of her fork. “I’m the kind of girl who gets asked ‘You want some of that roast with your gravy?’ at holiday dinners. The meal is merely a vessel for the sauce.”
She speared a roasted potato on her fork and moved to dip it into the aioli, but switched to the side of au jus at the last second. As she savoured the bite, a low groan came from the other end of the table.
“There’s nothing wrong with trying all the combinations,” she said, waving her fork in the direction of her dinner guest. “That being said, there is something comforting about sticking to flavours you know will work. Call me basic, but I do love Dijon mustard and applesauce with my porkchops. I’m not sure either of those would be the right fit here, though. But you never know if you don’t try. We’ll do that for tomorrow’s dinner. Two different sauces, just like tonight. I’m thinking either shoulder or shank.”
A whimpering moan answered her.
“You’re right. We did shanks last night. I’ll do a roast shoulder. Ooh, I haven’t had mashed potatoes in a while. That would be lovely with a rich sauce poured over top. I definitely won’t be doing gravy since we’ve done an au jus tonight. Oh!” she clapped her hands together, still holding the fork between her fingers. “And I could make some honey glazed roasted carrots. That would be divine! I’ll have to see if I there are any wines in the cellar that will pair well with that.”
A muffled sob broke through her train of thought.
“How rude of me. Of course, I haven’t even let you try tonight’s dish yet. Where are my manners?”
She got up and put together a plate of food from the ornate serving platter in the middle of the grand, mahogany table.
“And this being your home, and all, you’d think I’d be a bit more considerate.”
Taking careful steps so as not to drop the plate, she made her way to the other end of the long table where her host awaited her. He was naked and tied down with thick leather straps. There was an IV drip in one arm, but the other arm was long gone. One of his legs was missing, as well as miscellaneous pieces of flesh from his torso. A large metal sheet pan sat under him, collecting any blood that seeped out of his wounds.
Smiling, she reached for his gag and then stopped.
“Before I let you taste, are you going to behave yourself tonight? Or do I have to stick you in the freezer again?”
