It is a very long time indeed since Mrs Blazing and I have dared attempt to digest supermarket beef on a Sunday. A rare free Saturday gives me the chance to fulfill a promise to a friend to try the ‘very good butcher’ in a nearby village. We arrive at said butcher about half past one, which sadly is some thirty minutes after he has closed for the day.

“Chicken from Sainsbury then”, sighs Mrs B. I won’t have it. The new Blazing mobile needs a run. “We’ll go to the market town, it’s only a dozen miles or so, and I’m sure I remember a butcher on the main road there.” By two we have arrived outside the shop I indeed remember from a handful of drives through that town.

We introduce ourselves to Bob the butcher. “We will be guided by you Bob. A nice piece of beef for Sunday lunch. What do you recommend?” Bob moves in for the kill with the stealth and general skill of the luxury car salesman.

“The sirloin is absolutely the tastiest joint if you slow roast it. We have this lovely piece of well hung Aberdeen Angus. Now, now, madam, you know what I meant.” Smiles are on faces and he strikes with the stealth of a cobra. “How big a piece?” We point at each other. “Enough for us”. With a swift slice of an extremely sharp large knife he has the piece he says will be required. “Just right for two. As it’s late you can have it for thirteen fifty.”

I notice the management preparing to make her apologies and I quickly step in with a twenty from my wallet. Beef is what I want. Beef is what I shall have, and we don’t have to come back, do we? Back in the car I have to smile inwardly and admire Bob’s style. Twenty-four hours later, I am admiring his business. We may have paid handsomely for the privilege, but this carefully slow-roasted bit of Aberdeen Angus is the most succulent piece of meat I have eaten in many a long day.

Just as well really, because clearly we have enough left for a very large plate of sandwiches on Monday night with some tasty mustard.

We have another free weekend coming up. Guess where we are going on Saturday. Bob, it’s a pleasure to be robbed by you!