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> The Little Piggy by Leo, Merit ~ Odin 15/17 ~ A tale of French Village Life
Sekhmet
post Oct 7 09, 16:32
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Group: Platinum Member
Posts: 743
Joined: 3-February 09
From: Abingdon, Oxfordshire,UK
Member No.: 754
Real Name: Leonora Wyatt
Writer of: Poetry & Prose
Referred By:No one at all





The Little Piggy

By Leo

In1946, the pride and joy of the village of St Beauregard sur Mere was - The Three Destrange Sisters,

. Not only was each young women possessed of much grace and beauty, but, (and of far greater importance to the hard working peasants of St Beauregard), each sister had that quality which any true Frenchman prized above all else.

She could cook like an angel,

Their family auberge, 'Le Petit Porcelet', (or 'The Little Piggy' ) managed by the three demoiselles Destrange had, over a long period, gained a well deserved reputation for its menus of succulent, carefully composed casserole dishes; mostly constructed around the excellent local ingredients of pork, cream and apples for which their region was, justly, famous.

Of course, most impressed of all; after five long years of war and severe food rationing; were the occasional young British soldiers passing through St Beauregard on hiking or cycling tours.



There was a dreamlike quality for any solitary young serviceman, finding himself almost engulfed by the three exquisite young women. They whirled about him in a maelstrom of delicious perfumes; at the same time, plying him with flirtatious questions about himself, and any possible girl friends; whilst liberally filling his glass with the heady local wine; and, as a finale, laying before him such dishes as a prince might dream of.

The village prospered.

So that, when they considered the hearty soups, hors d'overes, feather light tarts and cream-enriched deserts, which wafted daily from the kitchens of 'Le Petit Porcelet', the Village was almost totally contented with itself.

Almost –

Until …

Eventually, there were whispers.

Cautious at first.

Behind raised hands.

And with many a furtive backward glance.

And the question which most concerned these worthy pig farmers...

Was of course - Which of them supplied the sisters with the delicious pork they served?

Was it you, Jean Paul?

A Gallic shrug. Mais nonl

Perhaps it is you, M. Toumeragues. You took first prize for your porkers at the County Fair.

Another shrug. It's certainly not me!

Madam Cholet ... Do you ever see them buying pork at the market?

Never! And so on, and so on . . . Could it be possible . . . that the delicious pork served at the auberge... was,

Not Local?

'Impossible!'

'Unthinkable!'

'The shame!'

'We must find out!'

Every Wednesday & Saturday afternoon, the sisters liked to close the Auberge, and take off on their bicycles, laughing and twittering excitedly, like a flock of exotic Birds of Paradise.

So, the village decided that this was when any …doubtful ... purchases must take place.

The very next Wednesday afternoon several lusty paysans, dressed in their hunting camouflage, were to be found, lurking behind the scrubby roadside bushes lining the only road leading out of the village.

It was an afternoon that they would not easily forget.

What a charming sight the young women presented, as they spread their crisp white cloth upon the springy, herb scented grass; and produced from their wicker bicycle baskets, forks and knives, salt and pepper, mayonnaise, and a selection of containers, large and small, each covered by a snowy muslin cover.

But - who was this, whistling joyfully, as he peddled towards them on his bike?

Oh-ho! A romantic assignation perhaps.

Surely, this was the young British soldier who had spent the last night at the Auberge.
So young, so strong and so heroic in his British khaki uniform jacket. The older men felt lust and envy stirring as they watched their village maidens shamelessly flirting with this ... this... outsider.



There were sharp intakes of breath when the eager watchers saw the three sisters begin to slowly peel off their flowery summer skirts and old fashioned, silky satin blouses.
This was beyond endurance!
The men exchanged meaningful glances filled with jealous lust. This could not be allowed!


So, when Solange, the eldest sister advanced provocatively towards the young soldier, naked, except for a pair of lace cami-knickers , each man was tensed - ready to intervene - until ...

Solonge produced from behind her back, a gleaming filleting knife, and thrust it deep into the young man's ribs,

The paysans, were not altogether displeased.



Pork butchers to a man, they swiftly helped the girls to butcher the carcass into remarkably porky-looking joints; packing the pieces of meat away into the waiting containers in double quick time.


' Le Petit Porcelet' is, to this day, still open for business in St. Beauregard sur Mare.

The three sisters still preside over its kitchens; and what is more, they have franchised a select range of pork products under the Brand Name of 'Le Petit Porcelet'


Why not look out for them in a Delicatessen or Top Quality Supermarket near you?


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