Tuesday, March 07, 2017

The Joy Of Tripe Dressing

A man makes his way across the tap room of a crowded pub and surreptitiously slips you a little package containing a dirty postcard. You glance at it, not wanting to draw attention to the exchange, and give a brief nod of understanding and thanks. You carefully place it in your inside pocket, longing for the time to pass until you can make your way to the privacy of your own home and examine the picture in detail. There you can let your eye explore the lines and the curves, the meaning and the promise of that glorious image. There you can feast on the whole and consume each individual part as though it was the rarest of rare beasts. There you can let the joy of that unforgettable phrase - etched in glass high above a window - echo through the various levels of your consciousness : "J. A Binns - Wholesale And Retail Tripe Dresser".  Thanks Jack.


  1. Binns the Butcher! Gotta love it! I feel like I've come to visit Peter and Harriet at Tallboys and we've walked to the village to pick up the chops for dinner.

  2. Was there a stack of postcards on the counter, to help spread the advertising?

  3. Priceless! But I pity the poor steers who may be unable to read but surely recognize what fate awaits them.


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