“Hold hard a minute, then!” said the Rat … and after a short interval reappeared staggering under a fat, wicker luncheon-basket.

“Shove that under your feet,” he observed to the Mole, as he passed it down into the boat. …

“What’s inside it?” asked the Mole, wriggling with curiosity.

“There’s cold chicken inside it,” replied the Rat briefly; “cold-tongue-cold-ham-cold-beef-pickeled-gherkins-salad-french-rolls-cress-sandwidges-potted-meat-ginger-beer-lemonade-sodawater-“

“O stop, stop,” cried Mole in ecstasies: “This is too much!”

(“The Wind in the Willows” by Kenneth Graham)

There is something distinctly Edwardian about potted meats, coming from a time before the privations of the First and Second World Wars, but when pâté was positively exotic and probably not to be trusted.  Even my grandmother would have felt it was old-fashioned.  But I have to say that, both from the point of view of reducing waste, and just the sheer enjoyment of eating it, we have been missing out!

I am sure this is a theme to which I will return (there being a glut of potential variations) but to begin with I’m turning to the rather sad, dry nugget of leftover ham which is looking a bit unloved at the back of the fridge … Continue reading “Potted Ham” →