Squibs and squids

All that talk of Canned Food Week being a damp squib has had me thinking a lot about squid. That's the way my mind works, you see.

It just so happened that a few weeks back I bought a tin of Tesco Finest* Squid Pieces in Salsa Piccante, as it was on offer at the time. That isn't an asterisk after "Finest" by the way - it's just a star that Tesco have incorporated into their logo for the range, for no real reason.* So, with squid on the brain, now seems like the perfect time to give it a try. The tin says it's perfect for tapas; I just fancy a light snack so decide just to serve it up on toast - a single tapa, if you will.

It's always nice to try a tin that's a different shape or size to the norm, so this oval one gets extra marks from me on that front. Inside, the squid pieces are largely all chunks of a similar size and indeterminable shape, though there is the odd tentacley bit, reminding you that what you're about to eat was once a freaky-looking thing that swam about in the sea.

Squid has a certain notoriety for often being served up overcooked to the point that eating it is like chewing on rubber, and I was a little worried that this might be the case here, as tinned foods always tend to get a fairly thorough cooking. I need not have been concerned - this is Tesco's premium range after all, "Expertly Prepared in Galicia" to an "Authentic Spanish Recipe". The pieces do have a slight chewiness to them, but it is by no means excessive or unpleasant. The taste actually reminds me more of seafood sticks or surimi than any squid I have tasted before, though now I think about it I have possibly only ever had squid when it has been battered and deep-fried with accompanying garlic mayonnaise, which probably gives it quite a different flavour.

Anyhow, the taste of the squid almost ends up playing second fiddle to the salsa piccante, which is a lot more 'piccante' than I was expecting given that the only spice in the ingredients list is paprika extract. It's got a surprising kick to it, but I rather like it. Along with some tomato puree, the paprika must also be behind the deep red colour of the sauce, almost as vibrant as the red of the tin itself.

Going back to the inspiration behind the meal, a squib is in fact a type of firework; a damp squib therefore won't light, which would be rather a disappointment, hence the phrase. This reminds me that I have a couple of indoor sparklers left from a recent birthday, which would  jazz things up a bit. So, the squid and sauce go onto a hot piece of toast, with a few herbs sprinkled on top, a drizzle of oil and a sparkler stuck in, and there you have it - from damp squib to camp squid, via the very strange place that is my mind.

* It does always make me think there must be a footnote or disclaimer somewhere on the packaging though. Like this one, as the second star in that paragraph actually was an asterisk.