Whenever I go to an American diner for breakfast, Eggs Benedict is always my go-to order. It’s automatic like, “What’s 2+2?”
I fried the pork belly until it came up to temperature. I was anxiously hungry and it seemed crackingly crispy enough. It smelled good. It looked good. It tasted good. But only hitting the tongue. I chomped down and chewed, and chewed and chewed. And then, chewed. This is a lot tougher than I remember….