Kate & Sidney

Even though it was one of their tinned pies that caused my old tin opener to give up the ghost, I don't hold a grudge against Fray Bentos. When I spotted one of the company's other products - a tinned steak and kidney pudding - on a special "Reduced to Clear" promotion in Tesco a while back, I was more than happy therefore to let bygones be bygones and give it a try.

There didn't seem to be any particular reason for it being reduced, as it was still well within its best before date. Not long afterwards though, I noticed that it had been replaced on the shelves by some steak and kidney puddings of a similar shape - but not in tins. Fray Bentos had relaunched the product in new, plastic packaging. Tesco had obviously reduced the price to get rid of the old stock, so thank goodness I bought the tin when I spotted it, otherwise I would have missed out completely. I don't care if the change means it's now suitable for microwave heating; a plastic-entombed pudding has no place on this blog, thank you very much.


Knowing that I had in my possession a product which was no longer made, I was almost in two minds as to whether to open it or not. It reminded me of the time I ate one of the last 'Marathon' bars after the product had been rebranded to Snickers. I can remember feeling then, as I looked at the obsolete piece of confectionery in my hand, a very palpable sense that I was holding a piece of history, something that would shortly cease to exist, or in a sense, already didn't. I possibly didn't express it in those words at the time; I was only four. But the seeing the tinned pudding on the kitchen worktop took me right back.

Anyway, I was hungry, which was enough to make me put aside all thoughts of preserving the past and go for it.

Upside down, or rather, top-side up

Like the pie I'd tried previously, the pudding also required some cooking, and offered two options for this: either boiling it in the tin itself, or taking it out of the tin and heating it through in the microwave. Needless to say, I went for the first option, which seemed far more exciting. The instructions advised piercing the tin, and then simmering the whole thing in a pan of water ("no more than two-thirds of the way up the side of the can") for 30 minutes. Even with the hole to allow steam to escape (which I'm not entirely sure is necessary for as short a cooking time as this, but never mind), there was still a sense that the whole thing could go spectacularly wrong - what would happen if the water did go more than two-thirds up the way up the side of the tin? Or more excitingly, what if I didn't heed the warning to not allow the saucepan to boil dry? Would the whole thing explode? Would my kitchen be redecorated in Fray Bentos Beige and Brown? Rarely has the cooking of my dinner been quite so fraught with anticipation and potential danger.

I let the saucepan of water slowly simmer along, at first watching the level of water vigilantly, but then becoming increasingly laissez-faire about it when I realised that there was little danger of it all boiling away. One thing that did cause a moment of concern was when I first spotted some of the contents bubbling up out of the hole in the tin, but during the course of cooking very little was lost in this way so I need not have worried too much.

With the cooking time over, I carefully removed it from the saucepan (using what I shall now always refer to as my "tin tongs"), and with a tea towel wrapped round it to protect my hands, continued the opening of the tin from the hole I'd already made and prised back the lid to see what lurked beneath. At first glance, it looked disconcertingly like the pallid pastry of the Fray Bentos pie prior to its bake in the oven. But being a pudding, not a pie, this was of course suet crust pastry rather than your standard puff stuff, so its pale colour was entirely normal and to be expected. Ideally though you would want the pastry to completely hold in all the luscious filling, but here there was a great crevice along the top and edge of the pastry, explaining why some of the filling had been bubbling out during the cooking. But the big question was how it would fare when turned out of the tin. I ran a knife around the inside, put a plate on top, flipped the whole thing over, and with fingers crossed on one hand, gingerly lifted the tin with the other.

Oh dear. Well, that didn't quite work, did it? Unfortunately some of the pastry near the top of the tin had got a little stuck to the side, tearing a great hole in the side of the pudding as I removed the tin, causing it to lilt to one side, looking rather sad. But never mind - looks aren't everything, and it could still win it back on the taste front. With some steamed veg alongside, I dived in.

The pastry, I must say, was surprisingly good. Being steamed, a suet crust pastry has a softer, slightly claggy texture which is not to everyone's taste; many miss the crispness of a classic baked pastry. Personally I am a big fan, and am often tempted when I see a pud on a menu. While not as rich in flavour as some of the ones I have tried, the pastry certainly didn't disappoint.

The gravy too was a success: rich, flavoursome and plentiful, despite having lost some as it bubbled out of the tin during the cooking. So far so good. As for the meat...well, not so great. Generally, recipes for a "Kate and Sidney" pie or pud (as my nan used to refer to them) call for half as much kidney as steak, so the flavour of the former does not overpower. Here the ingredients list shows that the pudding was 14% beef and 11% pork kidney, suggesting perhaps Fray Bentos trying to reduce manufacturing costs with a lower proportion of the more expensive steak. What pieces I could find were small, almost more like a mince in consistency, suggesting a lower grade of meat, whereas the pieces of kidney were much larger (though thankfully not overcooked and rubbery, which had been a concern of mine).

Big old gobbets of kidney

Scraggly little bits of steak

Likewise, using pork rather than the more traditional lamb kidney also has the whiff of a money-saving exercise about it, but possibly again at the detriment of the overall balance of flavour, as lamb kidneys have a much milder taste. I am by no means averse to a kidney, so to me it did not matter that their flavour was very much prevalent in the pudding, but for those not so keen on offal, this tin probably wouldn't be such a great choice - maybe opt for the Fray Bentos "Just Steak" pudding instead. Wait, what am I saying? They don't make them in tins any more! In the light of that change, I cannot recommend anyone buys any of them, regardless of what they've got in them. Perhaps I do bear a grudge against Fray Bentos after all...