Friday, April 22, 2016

Spam

Today

There are often postings on Facebook showing pictures of objects or activities designed to generate collective nostalgic "aahs" from readers of a certain age. 

Today the object pictured was slices of Spam being fried in a pan. "Fried Spam, yay or nay?" was the comment.

In My Day

As a child we ate "luncheon meat", or that was how my mother described it, although it was probably Shoulder Pork and hAM. It was a homogeneous  cuboid lump that was sold in tins that had to be opened with a key. The keys often broke, leaving you trying to fork this lump onto the plate, at grave danger to your fingers on the jagged edges. One on the plate, this lump was sliced evenly and served with lettuce, cucumber and salad cream.

Shortly after I met Paul he went to the Police Training College at Sandgate. He bemoaned the fact that he was putting on weight and partly blamed the spam fritters which featured regularly (I don't suppose that the many pints of beer consumed had much to do with it). I had never heard of this culinary horror, but then noticed it on the menu at my college and tried some. Eeew! was it possible to have a greasier meal?

I later experimented with frying slices of Spam and found that it was one of those items which contained so much fat that you didn't need to put any in the pan; it just oozed its own fat. But dint of much sizzling over a high heat it was possible to get a little crispiness to the edges. Once you'd discarded the excess fat, it arguably tasted  better than straight from the tin. Coating it in batter and then deep frying would have sealed in all that lovely piggy grease as well as adding the layer from the deep-frying. Yummy.

So my answer is "nay" and gives me another reason for being glad I'm a vegetarian.

Tuesday, April 19, 2016

Straying From the Path

Today

Our new family member, Amoss, has settled in well. After our dear little Abby died we were hesitant as to whether we wanted to embark on another spell of cat-ownership. But Amoss was in need of a good home. Lizzie and Wesz had taken him in as a stray and had brought him into good health and condition, but he couldn't settle with their other cats and it was becoming very stressful for all.

So he came to us and was so immediately at home that it seemed that we were offering him the place he'd been waiting for. Lizzie and Wesz can still visit and he's always very pleased to see them.

In My Day

People talk glibly about cats being "strays" when they're not homeless or abandoned; they've just wandered a bit off-piste or are in the habit of visiting several houses.

Abby was of this type. She regularly visited a little girl who lived three doors up in Mead Close. I think this was partly because she was allowed on the child's bed. The little girl called her "Jessie" after Postman Pat's cat and I couldn't persuade the parents not to feed her. But they never for one second thought she was a stray.

When we acquired Albinoni and Agnes in 2008, Abby was very affronted and decided to leave home (see blog 9 Nov 2009) she stopped turning up for meals or her daily cuddle. We asked around the Close but found nothing. Then, one day, after about four weeks absence, she turned up with a bulging fat belly. Clearly someone was giving her food - way too much. We grabbed her and didn't let her out until we'd bought a collar with identifying tag.

Shortly after this she disappeared again. But the collar was effective; a few days later we received a call from someone, clearly local, who said she was at his house. He sounded very mysterious, as though he didn't want to let us know where he lived. However, last number redial has its uses and I later called and spoke to his partner Ali, whom I knew pretty well from the village. 

Apparently, Abby had been going through their catflap, intimidating and eating the food of their cat. Because of her appetite and readiness for a cuddle, they hadn't discouraged her. "I thought she was a stray," said Ali by way of extenuation. I thought better of asking her why she imagined that a well-fed, glossy, flea-free cat could possibly be a stray and we came to a deal whereby she would stop feeding Abby and chuck her out in our direction at mealtimes. In this way, Abby came back into our lives and we found new homes for the Kitties with Lizzie and Wesz (quid pro quo, really).

I've seen pictures of Amoss when he first came to Lizzie's and he was a mess; clearly no-one had looked after him for a long time, so the description "stray" seemed the right one, and nobody has yet turned up to claim him. He was lucky to have arrived at a place where good care was taken of him, so that today he's the beautiful creature he was meant to be.

What I also find touching is that his need for human company is so strong that he doesn't have any nervousness and anxious behaviour at all. Welcome to the Barrett Family, Amoss.