Male pig or wild boar. There are increasing numbers of wild boar in Kent and Dorset, escapees from farms, and, of course, they roam large areas of France and other areas of Europe and Asia. They are not bled after slaughter, so the meat is very dark. One year we had booked a cottage near Arles for a holiday. The night before we were due to arrive in Provence we were burgled in our hotel room in Paris while we slept. Inevitably, the cottage was double booked and the day's delay meant we lost the house. We set off to alternative accommodation, armed with our T-shirts and swimming costumes. The only available house was in the Hautes-Alpes. We arrived late at night in the pitch blackness, to find the neighbouring town equally dark and snow not so very far away. Our hosts welcomed us with astonishingly flavoured boar pâté made with truffles which they had rooted out nearby and a memorable omelette. They showed us their guns and sent us off to our own house with a jar of jam (US: jelly) made from wild raspberries which they had picked on the hillside above. The following day we strolled up the mountain side and came across some wild boar. That's when I learned the word sanglier.