First up on my culinary journey back in time was a classic from the Second World War – Spam Fritters. Spam is obviously very well-known with many saying that the canned meat helped us win the war.

However, asking someone if they like the taste of Spam will usually bring about a laugh, a face of disgust or that they’d never try it. I think because of this reputation, I’d never tried it either.

Despite all this, Spam is still stocked almost everywhere you look – so there must be a market for it! That market is most likely Britain’s elderly, who may have been brought up on the stuff. Indeed, Spam came up in a conversation I had with my Great-Great Uncle (who lived through the Second World War) and he spoke of his great fondness of Spam. It was a real treat back then.

My aim was to sample a typical dinner that my Great-Great Uncle would have had as kid during wartime. This was merely a quick taste of the past. I put on some music from the 1940s to get in the spirit, gathered my collection of simple ingredients together, and began cooking this wartime classic.

Firstly, I peeled the potato, chopped it up and began to boil it.

Then it was time to create my batter mix. In a bowl, I mixed 100g of flour with a pinch of salt, then mixed in the egg and 100ml of milk. Some recipes use beer instead of milk.

 

The moment of truth arrived, the unpackaging of the Spam. I followed the steps on the tin, but still needed a knife to lure the slimy hunk of Spam out of its canned home. After a brief struggle, the Spam slowly slid out onto the chopping board with a thud.

Looking at the Spam, it was difficult to see how my Great-Great Uncle could talk so lovingly of it. Covered in a greasy slime similar to dog food, with its processed, pink appearance and salty, hot dog smell, it flies in the face of all that we’re told is healthy nowadays.

Nevertheless, I sliced my Spam longways into six slices and coated in my batter mix. Being a novice cook, I subsequently learnt that a thicker batter mix is better for coating things.

I heated a little oil in the frying pan and threw in my coated Spam slices. Thy began to sizzle loudly in the pan and a salty, unhealthy, yet comforting aroma filled the kitchen. I turned each fritter over 3-4 minutes and cooked for the same time on the other side – and began heating my mushy peas.

With everything cooked I served up what is most likely a very big version of Spam fritters – given the rationing of World War Two. I cut into a Spam fritter, and took the first bite, and it was actually really tasty. Incredibly salty, meaty and filling, I can see why Spam was quite a treat. It’s probably the war-time equivalent of an Indian takeaway – rich, comfort food.

The dinner is nicely balanced with the simplicity of the boiled potatoes and mushy peas – and is honestly something I’ll be having again!