Tonight I took a trip down memory lane. I forgot to take my cash card out tonight, so after football, I was stuck with only £6. I was hankering after a beer or two, but I was also starving, having only eaten a handful of chicken pakoras all day. I mulled this dilemma over in my mind on the drive home, and decided to get a four pack of Holsten, and hope there were some edible scraps at the back of the fridge. I strolled into the off licence, picked up my cans, cost four pounds, and spotted something I hadn't seen for ages. A Fray Bentos Minced Beef and Onion tinned pie.
Now for those of you how are not of my age group, or a former student, this probably means bugger all. But believe it or not, you young whipper snappers, there once was a time when microwaves were a rare thing in houses. Back in the day, if you wanted a cheap meal that would fill you up, with minimum effort, Fray Bentos tinned pies were the daddy of pre made meals for doylems like me, who would burn water. It was the one thing your parents would stock the cupboards with when they left you at home to fend for yourself. It was supposedly the ideal food for fools. Yet preparing them to eat was not without it's dangers. To make sure the contents did not go off, a reason why these were very popular with survivalists, as they would withstand a nuclear blast, was the fact that they were vacuum sealed in a pie tin, with a lid welded close on top. Opening the mother fuckers was a feat in itself. I have never come across a can opener that could remove the lid in one go. It usually took five or six efforts, and then a hammer and chisel to pry it off. This of course left a big ass jagged edge, which meant that quite often, your pie was cooked with a healthy amount of your blood amongst the ingredients.
Then there was the wait. Like I say, this was no microwave compatible grub. It took a patience sapping 25-30 minutes to cook. An eternity when you had the munchies, or a house full of your hungry mates, who had just polished off the contents of your dads liquor cabinet. But it was worth the wait. I remember once, we were in the pub, and Queso had picked up a game bird. I was out with Lobon, and we were planning to go back to my folks house, who were out of town, and liberate a bottle of Franks expensive Brandy. Quseo had nowhere to take his conquest, and told me and Lobon, if he could take her to my house, he would set it up for a four way romp in my bedroom. It seemed a hell of an idea, so we went along with it. On arrival at my gaff, Queso said to give him half an hour to give her it, and lay the foundations for our menage a quatre. At the time, me and my brother shared a room, so I told him to make sure he shagged her in his bed, as I didn't fancy kipping on a bed covered with his jism crust. So off he popped up the stairs to set it all up. This left two drunken bums, me and lobon with a half hour to kill. "I'm Hungry" said Lobon, and I was too, so I got out the tin opener and hacksaw, and in no time had two Steak and Ale pies on the go. Just as I was pulling them out of the oven, Queso began knocking on the floor, the signal for us to pile in. But she was a bit of a minger to honest, and the steak and ale pies were lovely. It was no contest, as me and Mick cracked open a bottle of Napoleons V.S.O.P to wash down our culinary delight. To top it all, Big Al came home and went to go to bed, only to find the Curly Haired Lothario's rusty starfish staring at him from beneath his quilt. He was not best pleased.
By the way, the pie was damned fine tonight. I would have preferred the Steak and Ale, but beggars cannot be choosers. My daughter commented on how nice it smelled, and the Elster was straight in for a share of the spoils. Aren't women annoying like that?
