(Oh all right! the title of this post was indeed inspired by Evelyn Waugh’s famous novel. However, a boar farm is slightly less glamorous than a country pile. Only just.)
Last weekend my parents, Sean and I we piled into the car and drove to Suipacha. This is the town where I bought my antique china tea set last year and I wanted to see if they had matching plates but they had none left.
We had reservations at the restaurant they owners of the boar farm recently opened on site. The food was very good. I’d never eaten boar before and I expected it to be more gamey than it actually was. I had boar ravioli, Sean had boar with a berry sauce, my dad had homemade pasta and my mum had goulash. Apparently, their recipes were handed down the generations of this family.
It was a glorious day, perfect for a stroll after lunch to see the boars. Some can be very mean and rather dangerous, hence the electrified fence inside another fence. Their grunts did sound scary.