The Butcher

This is my butcher's pork. She doesn't keep it in the fridge or wrap it in cling-wrap and polystyrene. She doesn't have it prettified and packaged into chops, cutlets, roasts or cubes. She doesn't wear a white coat. Or gloves. She doesn't have her hair tied back. The pork isn't covered. It's hot. There's the odd fly about.

The butcher's across the counter from me, asleep. It's just after noon. The morning rush was over an hour before. The wizened tofu seller in the next stall lets out a bark and a second later, the butcher is bolt upright, blade in hand and smile on face. I pick up and fling my chosen hunk of pig at her for treatment. It's cut, weighed and then minced, during which the wooden butt of the knife being used to press the pork into the machine is jarred and bitten, the resulting wood chip shooting across the market aisle at a rival butcher.

Buying meat can be dangerous.

And occasionally scary. Another pic here.

Meat Money

300g of minced pork - 12,000VND (USD75c, AUD$1.00)

Nghi Tam Road Market is on the dyke road between the Sofitel Plaza and the Sheraton.

Comments

[Flora Fling]

I was so fascinated by the open markets in Vietnam. Fresh seafood and meat. No refrigeration, flies and all!

[Sticky]

Seems to work, doesn't it?

[Jeff]

Sounds like my local butcher here in HK. Scary if I see it back at home in the States but like they say, when in Rome...

This is gross. It discusses me. You butchers are nasty people. I wonder how you can stand the blood of animals.

[Nicole D.]

EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

NASTY,UGLY,SCARY,BLOODY. This **** is gross.