Dipping in the Frying Pan

bacon-grease

In 1962 I lived with my mum in a small farm cottage in Summerhouse, county Durham. We were poor. The cottage came with the job, along with a meagre wage. Bacon was a luxury, and usually given to us by the farm mum worked for. End pieces that didn’t sell! It was delicious. Mum made it last. When the bacon was gone, she’d save the fat and many days I went to school after a breakfast of stale bread dipped into bacon fat. I didn’t complain, I LOVED it.
When I cook bacon now, I look at the fat left in the pan, and remember.
Mum, wish you were still here!

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