Outova tin – Taste Scene

“Spuds outova a tin? Is your head away?”
This was a friend of mine who, in his own words, “would never stoop to eatin’ that kind of rubbish.”

Still, the same boy wouldn’t think twice about scoffing a McDonald’s or a similar additive and preservative packed fast food lunch.

I had been telling Steve that I’d used tinned potatoes in a recipe some weeks ago and the resultant dish had turned out surprisingly well. However, he wasn’t convinced.

“Your head’s away,” he repeated.

“Maybe my head is away,” I told him. “But it’s not for the want of good, cheap suppers.”

He countered, “A real Irishman would never eat spuds outova tin.”

“I was born in Scotland. Nationality is a fluke of birth.”

“Man has always been tribal.”

“What’s your tribe? Hifalutin Sobbery? And anyway, potatoes aren’t even indigenous to this island.” Steve harrumphed. “Did you know that back in the 1800s, before the famine, the average Irishman ate about a stone of spuds a day?”

“Yes, you tell me that every time we talk.”

“No I don’t. What I mean is: People here were born to eat spuds And if you keep eatin’ spuds outova tin, we won’t be on talking terms much longer.”

“That’s a bit harsh.”

“Spuds outova tin is a bit harsh.”

“Have you ever tried spuds outova tin?”

“Once and never again,” he said, before blessing himself. He actually made the sign of the cross as if tinned potatoes were somehow an offence to both man and God.

“Should I say an Our Father and three Hail Marys in penance for eating spuds out of a tin?”

“I know rightly that you say more than your prayers…”

“I bet I could change your mind about lovely tinned spuds.”

“I don’t need to change my mind – I know my own mind – and I know spuds outova tin is just wrong.”

“Fifty pence for a staple ingredient isn’t wrong in my world.”

“You keep them in your world, then.”

“I will, then.”

“Grand, then.”

He doesn’t even read this column so I can explain without fear of my subterfuge being discovered, but the next time Steve comes to dine chez moi, there will be spuds outova tin in his dinner and he won’t know the difference. Maybe afterwards I’ll even serve up his dessert in the empty spud tin by way of explanation and to, as the man says, rub it in a bit more. The first time I bought spuds outova tin in adult life was to try Jack Monroe’s patatas bravas recipe and I have had them in stock ever since. Incidentally, Jack’s recipe was in her book, ‘Tin Can Cook’ which, as well as being full of innovative ideas for the humble tin of canned food, was also surprisingly entertaining – unless you’re a food snob named Steve.

The times that are in it, I don’t think we can afford to turn our noses up any any nutritious ingredients. OK, so tinned food like tuna or soup or spuds is never going to be as sumptuous as fresh food but with a little effort and encouragement, there is a lot to enjoy.

This recipe for Humble Sausage Casserole contains three tins, one of tomatoes, one of butter beans and one of spuds. However it also contains some fresh veg and as another cheap form of protein, some sausages. It’s super tasty, very adaptable and best of all, cheap. By my reckoning, depending on how much you spend on the sausages, when you tot up the cost of all the ingredients, this will feed a family of four for less than a fiver. The times that are in it, that’s very decent bang for your buck.

INGREDIENTS

glug of olive oil

1 glug of vegetable oil

as many sausages as you fancy eating

1 small carrot, finely diced

1 stick of celery, finely diced

1 onion, finely diced

two cloves of garlic, roughly chopped

1 tsp of smoked paprika

1 tsp of oregano

1 tin of chopped tomatoes

1 tsp of sugar

1 tin of spuds, drained and halved

1 tin of butter beans, drained and rinsed

salt and pepper

TO SERVE

grated parmesan

lemon mayonnaise

crusty bread for mopping

THE PLAN

Start by browning the sausages in a glug of vegetable oil. You don’t need to cook them all the way through here, just give them a bit of colour. As that’s happening, fry up the carrot, celery and onion in a sauce pan with the glug of olive oil.

After five minutes’s sweating, add the garlic and give it another five minutes or until the carrot has lost its bite. When soft, add the smoked paprika and oregano to the pan and stir around for 30 seconds. Next add the tinned tomatoes and the sugar, bring to a simmer and then switch off the heat.

When the sausages have coloured up nicely, remove from the heat.

Bung the spuds outova tin and the butter beans into the tomato-y mixture and stir through. Check the seasoning (it will take a goodly pinch of salt as the spuds and butter beans are naturally bland) and then pour and scrap everything into a casserole dish. Arrange the sausages on top and bake in the oven (180) for 20 minutes. And that’s it. As with the aforementioned patatas bravas, this goes well with some lemon mayo and a grating of parmesan.

Feed four for less than a fiver.

And wholesome to boot.