Alternative Uses for Tins No.6

Spotted in a recent edition of Waitrose Weekly:

Sadly I didn't have time to send all my loved ones cards made from tins, though I am not really sure what they would have made of corned beef Christmas greetings anyway. So instead I shall take this non-tin-shaped opportunity to wish you all a very merry Christmas and all best wishes for 2018!

"Was that barman giving me a funny look?"

"No. But the drink is..."

I don't generally go in for Halloween much these days, but when I saw a suggestion in a magazine for this somewhat creepy garnish for a cocktail, I couldn't resist. Not because I like macabre things, but because it calls for a tin of lychees to create the effect - and I just happened to have one in my stash. And as I haven't posted anything on this blog for months, I felt now was the time to get back on it.

My salad days are definitely over

I found this rather splendid picture on the old t'interweb a few weeks back, and felt the need to share it. Donald Trump's face, hewn from SPAM, like a meaty Mount Rushmore. It's vastly better than the lame portrait of the great orange one that I made from SPAM last year, just prior to the presidential elections, but it reminded me that I had intended to revisit my creation at some point, or at least the SPAM Family Cookbook from which the recipe came, which I had purchased on eBay.


The booklet is packed full of all sorts of weird and wonderful recipes, all involving SPAM in some way or another, including a SPAM risotto, Chilli Con SPAM, "Devilled Nuts and SPAM", SPAM en Vin, Gazpacho (with fried SPAM cubes on top), SPAM en croute and Glazed SPAM Loaf (as illustrated on the front and back covers, both of which look like alien lifeforms of some kind) and for the kids, the "SPAM Special", which is "an old-time Wild West puffer train" fashioned from several tins of SPAM and a few tomatoes. No childrens' party would be complete without one.

"Don't be mean with the beans, Mum" (but do cut down on the sugar)

You're probably sick of me banging on about beans by now. "Yes, we know beans come in tins", I hear you cry. "What about all the other weird stuff?!" Well, quite - there are many far more interesting tinned things to try. Usually I would try leave it a bit before doing yet another beany post, but on this occasion, I'm making an exception.

After my visit to the Heinz Beanz Pop-up the other week, I was contacted by the company who do all the publicity and social media stuff for Heinz in the UK- would I be interested in trying out some of their new "No Added Sugar" Beanz for the blog? Well, yes I would, I said. How exciting - I had never been sent a product to do a proper review of before. I gave them my work address to post them to, but wasn't expecting that they would send them pretty much straight away by courier. I returned from my lunch one day the week before last to find a Heinz-blue box on my desk that had just been delivered to the main reception. "What's in the box?" my colleagues enquired of me. "Oh, y'know, just some stuff I ordered" I [rep]lied. I've never told anyone at work about this blog, so to explain why I was being sent tins of beans by courier would be far too long/weird a conversation to be having. So I kept the box well out of sight until home time, to avoid any further questions. But inside were two tins of the new No Added Sugar Beanz, nestled into some scrunched up gold tissue paper.

Alternative uses for tins no.6

Went to see a physiotherapist this afternoon, who recommended some exercises to release tension in my IT (iliotibial) band:

"A foam roller is good if you have one of those," he said. "But otherwise you can do a lot by just rolling a tin of beans up and down the outside of the leg".

As it happens I had been thinking of getting a foam roller. But the latter sounds a little more "me".

Big fish (tin), little fish (tin), cardboard pot (of beans)

It was my birthday this Friday just gone. I had the day off work, so I treated myself to a brunch out in a posh department store.

Or, in other words, I went to the Heinz Pop-Up in Selfridges Food Hall that I mentioned in a recent post. I had a cardboard pot of beanz, opting for a topping of ham hock (scrambled egg and bacon were also available) and plenty of cheese. And very tasty it was too.

There on display was one of the 50 collectable tins signed by Maurice Drake, who created the Benaz Meanz Heinz slogan back in 1967. The other 49 will not be on sale until later in the month.

Crumble or fool for dessert?

Seen on the Campbell's Soup blog this morning:

The First in Campbell’s delicious NEW Desserts range!

Do you often find yourself needing to whip up a delicious dessert for those unexpected family members? Perhaps you just fancy a delicious dessert ready and waiting for you after you’ve slaved over the hob making dinner for 2 hours. Either way, Campbell’s Cream of Crumble takes away all the effort of baking – simply grab your tin opener and serve up a slice of delicious, golden crumble. Tasty.

Beanz Meanz Marketing Opportunitiez

In perhaps the most exciting food news of the year so far, it was announced this week that a new pop-up cafe will be coming to Selfridges Foodhall later this month. But not just any old pop-up cafe. Marking 50 years since the creation of the "Beanz Meanz Heinz" slogan, the Heinz Beanz Cafe will be open daily in the foodhall for a month, serving the world-famous tomatoey legumes alongside crispy bacon, ham hock or scrambled egg for £3 a plate, with cheese, for some reason, being an optional extra. A little pricier than your local greasy spoon, admittedly, but no doubt that won't hold back the punters. There will also be the opportunity to buy some limited edition tins of beans (sorry - beanz) with special labels celebrating and riffing on the famous slogan - Beans Meanz Eggz, Beanz Meanz Spudz, Beanz Meanz Brekkiez and so on, at £2 a pop. Quite why "Beanz Meanz Chatz", I am not sure. I suspect "Beanz Means Fartz" probably won't be available.

Tisn't the season.

We're sufficiently far into 2017 now that if anyone wishes you a "Happy New Year" it feels a bit weird. It seems like forever since the Christmas decorations came down, let alone since the big day itself. The stinker of a year that was 2016 finally came to an end, but enough has already happened in 2017 to suggest this year isn't going to be much better. So while the year may no longer be new, I hope it's not too late to hark back and tell you about some of the things I got up to over Christmas. Well, it is too late, but I'm going to anyway.

Umm...maybe not.

Those of you who have followed this blog for a while may recall that two years ago I prepared a Christmas dinner sourced almost entirely from tinned foods, from the turkey down to the cranberry sauce, with even the sprouts being dredged up from the murky waters of their own metal tomb (can you tell I wasn't a fan of those?) One thing I couldn't find in a tin, however, was parsnips, so regrettably I had to make do without those. If Christmas dinner was a party, they perhaps wouldn't be the life and soul of it, but I rather missed their company nonetheless.

Some time later, I did come across a tin that described itself as a "Three Bird Festive Feast with all the trimmings" - turkey, goose, duck, parsnips, carrots, cranberries and all manner of interesting sounding herbs. It sounded pretty good - but sadly, it was a tin of rather posh dog food. I read an article recently that said all dog food is, technically, fit for human consumption, but I think there are enough other tins in the world to try before I go down that route.

A jarring experience

Overheard on a packed tube carriage on New Year's Eve:

Mother (with young child): We're like sardines in here!
Child: What does that mean, Mummy?
Mother: Well, y'know, all crammed in. Like fish...in a jar.

I couldn't believe my ears. A jar? Sardines in a jar? What on earth was she talking about? Where was this nonsense coming from? What was she teaching her child?! While admittedly it is possible to buy various types of preserved fish in jars, surely sardines are universally known as being one of the most common tinned foodstuffs. The entire reason that "crammed in like sardines" has become a phrase frequently used to describe packed commuter trains (made of METAL) is because of the fact that they come so tightly packed IN TINS. How could anyone ever hear "sardines" and think "jar"?! But maybe this poor child would do so from now on, having been told a skewed meaning of the phrase by his mother.