So there was this cider.....

The sort you can only find in local shops in Somerset, no, not the sort you drive off a country lane to a random farm after seeing a sign saying "I am a cider drinker"* but close.

The sort of cider that even though you pick the one that says it's not bone dry still makes you purse your lips the minute you sip it. And you carefully, oh so carefully, put your glass back down and find another substance to drink. For your livers sake.

So what to do with ten pints of the stuff? Buy some gammon of course, stick it in the slow cooker with a handful of apples and some onions and aforementioned pigswill cider, and go to work.

Jobs a good 'un.






*
I am a Cider Drinker,
I drinks it all of the day,
I am a Cider Drinker,
it soothes all me troubles away,
Ooh arrh, ooh arrh ay, Ooh arrh, ooh arrh ay,
Ooh arrh, ooh arrh ay, Ooh arrh, ooh arrh ay
Ooh arrh, ooh arrh ay, Ooh arrh, ooh arrh ay
Ooh arrh, ooh arrh ay, Ooh arrh, ooh arrh ay