Laudator Temporis Acti

"There was sucking-pig so delicate that it could be spread on bread like butter..."

This made me think of Lamb. I've been on a diet of Lamb for the past few days. Aside from his well-known Dissertation, there are two worthy pig-paeans in the letters. The first occurs a letter to Coleridge (March 9th 1822):

It gives me great satisfaction to hear that the pig turned out so well — they are interesting creatures at a certain age. What a pity such buds should blow out into the maturity of rank bacon! You had all some of the crackling and brain sauce. Did you remember to rub it with butter, and gently dredge it a little, just before the crisis? Did the eyes come away kindly with no Oedipean avulsion? Was the crackling the colour of the ripe pomegranate? Had you no complement of boiled neck of mutton before it, to blunt the edge of delicate desire? Did you flesh maiden teeth in it? Not that I sent the pig, or can form the remotest guess what part Owen could play in the business. I never knew him give anything away in my life. He would not begin with strangers. I suspect the pig, after all, was meant for me; but at the unlucky juncture of time being absent, the present somehow went round to Highgate. To confess an honest truth, a pig is one of those things I could never think of sending away. Teals, wigeons, snipes, barn-door fowl, ducks, geese — your tame villatic things — Welsh mutton, collars of brawn, sturgeon, fresh or pickled, your potted char, Swiss cheeses, French pies, early grapes, muscadines, I impart as freely unto my friends as to myself. They are but self-extended; but pardon me if I stop somewhere — where the fine feeling of benevolence giveth a higher smack than the sensual rarity — there my friends (or any good man) may command me; but pigs are pigs, and I myself therein am nearest to myself.

And then there is a letter to a Mr and Mrs Collier in January of the following year (Twelfth Day, '23):

The pig was above my feeble praise. It was a dear pigmy. There was some contention as to who should have the ears; but, in spite of his obstinacy (deaf as these little creatures are to advice,) I contrived to get at one of them. It came in boots too, which I took as a favour. Generally these pretty toes, pretty toes! are missing; but I suppose he wore them to look taller. He must have been the least of his race. His little foot would have gone into the silver slipper. I take him to have been a Chinese and a female.

• Nulla Dies Sine Suilla
• Ham
• Sausage and Mash
• Bacon and Eggs
• The Foundation of Civilization
• Pork Products