The PT Cruiser was never the most impressive piece of engineering. We could argue all day about the appeal or otherwise of its retro-futuristic (or whatever they call it) hot-rod styling, but the sorry truth is simply that Chrysler isn’t as good at making cars as other manufacturers. Modern convertibles are designed with all the structural bracing they need hidden within their chassis, so a fixed, mid-mounted, single-arc roll-bar is a sure sign that the engineers involved received their qualifications from a mail-order college in Utah.Imagine how much better the PT Cruiser would look without this automotive Alice band Less like a pram, that’s for sure. The only exception I can think of is the original Volkswagen Golf convertible which, in its day, was just about the most desirable car in West London (preferably driven while wearing large sunglasses mounted atop an Herm?headscarf). The Golf convertible was a cheap, practical, reliable alternative to all those rattly old death-trap convertibles such as the Triumph Spitfire or MGB Roadster – in its own way it was rather revolutionary. These days, however, a roll-bar can be integrated into windscreen surrounds or primed to activate from a concealed hidey hole in a matter of milliseconds when a roll is detected. It may seem self evident, but sometimes they can appear trustworthy.

Second, true to conventional wisdom, a red hat actually very often does signify that a woman is not wearing any knickers. And third, any car with a roll-bar like the handle of a strawberry basket will be rubbish.From the Triumph Stag to the Talbot Samba Convertible to this, the Chrysler PT Cruiser, the use of this crude, ugly safety brace is, almost without exception, a warning to steer clear. Where children can smell the smokery and watch the bacon going in, and the whole suckling pig being cooked. Schools are given free guided tours in the hope that a little of the ethos will rub off on the children.”We love every minute,” says Robinson. “We love the service we offer and the whole thing is a form of entertainment – it’s showmanship. Outside, the butcher’s bike sits alone, but it’s not just a quaint decoration: it’s used to do all the local deliveries in and around Stockbridge.Robinson is keen to educate children about proper butchering.

Not the pink tasteless meat wrapped in clingfilm and sold off polystyrene trays in supermarkets, but the sort of butchering where they can see the beast being beautifully prepared. Five hundred faggots a week are cooked in the kitchens and sold at just 50p apiece. One in gravy with mashed potato is a rich meal in itself – which once more demonstrates the sheer volume of produce that is shifted each week.Local deer hang in the game larder They produce venison sausages, stews and roasting cuts. Then, in the shooting season, pheasant, partridge, duck and hare all have their place also, hanging alongside each other in the refrigerated larder.There are braised hand-made pies of all descriptions, frozen bakes, stews and home-made puddings all staring at you as you walk in through the single door. But it is illegal to sell Canada geese, so the breasts are then put on a tray in the window with a sign that reads, “free goose breast”. There are rarely any takers simply because people do not believe things are free, in which case Robinson gives them away to the local pensioners.Faggots are also cheaply available.

To this day, even the pilot is still a regular customer.However, alongside the quality sausages and steak, the butchers do provide some budget food options – although not what you might expect. Behind the shop sit the Stockbridge marshes, on which several hundred Canada geese make their home. Hated by farmers, the geese are regularly shot and taken to Robinson’s for plucking and dressing. Recently, 1,500 were fed in a weekend at three separate functions.The sausages have become famous all over the country. For those in the know, not stopping at the shop on the A30 during opening hours is unthinkable. Made only with pork shoulder – no pig skin, bone or udders in these – the initiated talk about Stockbridge sausages as much in Scotland as they do in Hampshire. One stalking party of 20 had enough Stockbridge sausages flown up to the Highlands to last them a week – it was 10 years ago and they still talk about it.

At Christmas, people queue down the street to get their turkeys and, in the summer, fleets of vans depart Stockbridge with armies of helpers to run local barbecues. At Robinson’s however, they cure sides of pork from pigs that have been reared at Longstock, a few miles down the road. Once cured in salt and Demerara sugar, the sides are smoked above oak chippings.Going to such effort with their meat has proved a commercial success for the family: the shop takes around £30,000 a week, employs 14 full-time staff and sells 12 tons of sausages a month – even more in the barbecue season. You’d imagine that butchers couldn’t compete and most didn’t But Robinson has never tried to compete on price “We try to give top-quality produce and service. If somebody wants cheap meat we are the wrong place to come,” he says.Local wine merchant John Konig concurs; “Robinson’s is not cheap – but the service is brilliant and the food is stuff you dream of. I used to go down very early in the morning and they’d all be cutting and chopping away. They know you so well and know what you want, and there’s always a hot sausage or a bit of bacon on the go early in the morning.”Cheap bacon oozes that revolting white slime because mainstream processors “cure” their bacon by injecting a salt-water solution into the meat.