sunday best
WHEN WE FIRST moved to Tasmania’s Huon Valley in 2003, I was enchanted by a bucolic scene that could have come from that British TV series, . Late one afternoon I watched transfixed as large Wessex Saddleback pigs (you know the ones — black, floppy-eared, white band around the midriff and favoured by graphic designers for all products porcine) rummaged around an apple orchard, snuffling up the decaying fruit on the ground. It was only then that I truly understood the symbiotic relationship that pork has with apples (trust
