Mr WithaY and I were at the butchers yesterday. We are fortunate to have two good local butchers in town, and I try to buy my meat from them as often as possible. They do these great deals where you can buy a sack o' meat for about 12 quid, and every time I've done it, the meat's been top quality and made some great meals.
As the butcher was wrapping up the purchases, we got chatting.
Butcher: There's your mince.
Me: Oh lovely, thank you.
Butcher: I'll wrap all these other meats up individually so you can see what's what when you get home.
Me: Thanks...otherwise it could be interesting when dinner time arrives.
Mr WithaY: Ah yes, mystery meat casserole, my favourite.
Butcher: You have to be careful. We sell pet mince (Note: Pet mince is made of minced meat, but also minced offal like lungs, hearts, livers etcetera that customers are less inclined to buy nowadays.) here, and a chap came in one day and told us that his wife had cooked it and he'd eaten it by accident. He said it was tasty, but chewy.
I was planning a review of the local paper as well, but this week it's been all about the recent loss of life overseas, so I thought I wouldn't.