Scran

Sausage based activities resume today in the form of sausage rolls. More on that at lunch time.

Today is a bit of a non day for me. So that will be the highlight of my day I think.

Breakfast was a weekend classic of pastry and coffee.

Lads. Here we go. A pub trip a lil while back led to the conversation of sausage rolls. I like sausage rolls. Even shit ones are good. Actually, fancy ones tend to be overthought. We should embrace the cultural heritage of the sausage roll. Or not. Whatever.

I de-skinned some homemade sausages, which felt sacrilegious given the effort it took to get the pig into it's own intestines but things we do for perverse love.

You can't really just put the sausage in pastry and then cook it, the same way that you can just ball up some beef and call it a meatball. These sausages were all oinker no filler, so that means it needed padding out. The padding outing came in the guise of breadcrumbs (grated from a bozz end of frozen sourdough) and onions and garlic and fresh garden sage softened in a little bit of butter and oil.

The colleagues were made to break the ice in corporate away day of a mixing bowl, and then haphazardly formed into sausage shape again (see, perverse) but this time within the cosy confines of a ready rolled shop-bought pastry doovett.

The bug, snug in it's rug, was rolled and then egg washed and then sectioned into appropriate lengths before being baked in an oven.

I can't remember.