Prey silence for the Review Jacket.

Mr President, gentlemen.

As a serious and indeed serial bachelor, it is not often that I’m asked to speak at or review a wedding, but it is indeed a wedding that I refer to: the marriage of meat and man, taking place at Buen Ayre, Broadway Market on 11 April.

As I witness fellow gentlemen succumbing to marriage (Tig you’re next up I believe) I wonder why on earth chaps buy the whole cow when the milk can be had for free. But there’s good news boys because women are wising up. In fact 80% of women are now opposed to marriage because they realise there’s no need to buy the whole pig to get a little sausage.

Gentlemen I digress. There was nothing meagre about tonight’s sausage, in fact the sausage was but a sideshow in the parade of fine cow, cooked beautifully rare – their medium rare even meeting approval amongst the discerning connoisseurs of Meat Club.

Roope, in a moment of inspiration, perhaps illuminated by the bleeding velvet on his plate, coined the term “carnisseur”. Members may be pleased to hear I have this morning booked a meeting with the editrix of the Oxford English Dictionary (can you believe they’ve given the job to a fucking woman) to discuss the entry of this admirable term into the next edition of the dictionary; and I believe it perfectly encapsulates the spirit of Meat Club. We delight in beast, unadorned by the nonsense of vegetation so often served in restaurants. Let us celebrate cow, well reared, well hung, shown only passing heat and then served on wood to the salivating masses. Let us pass on crackers and bread, and focus on fine wine (marks deducted this evening for a too fruity red) and let us conclude with discourse on Waterfall’s inability to finish his plate, and the enjoyment of cigars, port and brandy. The management are to be thanked for their offerings of Argentinian port (remarkably similar to the red wine?) and let not the occasion pass without noting the fine song in which Meat Club regaled some poor lady as she celebrated her birthday. While I’m at it, damn the bitch for not partaking of either our sausage or our candle, both offered in good faith for blowing.

All in all a fine evening. Buen Ayre serves beautiful meat. May it be successful, and may it have our thanks for accommodating the motley, wondrous carnisseurs whom comprise Meat Club. I propose a toast to Meat and Friendship, equally rare.

Until next time.

Sandwith.