Most Friday afternoon's I wheel home via John Whyte's butcher shop in the village of Limekilns; I get some things there for the weekend you might say. Crushed on the Fife coast between shipbuilding and industrial sites it's a quaint and attractive wee town, there's a couple of pubs, a cafe (bike advert), a wee shop and not much else, apart from the butchers which survives and slumbers on in a precious and unglamourous way. No till, no card machine, no pre-prepared nonsense and no overselling and no bargains, everything is a lot dearer than you find in the stupid supermarkets. That's because it's proper stuff, tasty and fresh and the regular customers keep coming back, often from quite a distance. As a business model it's probably fatally flawed for sustainability but it has a soul, something you won't encounter when you shop with the big boys.
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