Originally published by The Clifton Courier, July 21, 2021

I’m on a bit of a comfort food journey right now. 

And thanks to a combination of These Uncertain Times and the usual crushing realities life, I’ve not been getting out and about all that much lately. So I don’t have any vomiting at Splendour in the Grass stories to regale you with. And, come to think of it, I don’t even have any grass in my backyard so I can’t give you any stories about anything in the grass right now. 

So, with the absence of anything to rant about or retell, you’re going on this comfort food journey with me too. We’re going to churn through the starchy, sad meals that I turn to when I’m in need. And I can’t go down this road without touching on the spaghetti and bacon muffin. 

Obviously this is not a recipe. This, if anything, is a justification for my choices. An explanation, of sorts.

Because I could sum up this dish in one sentence: bacon and tinned spaghetti on a buttered English muffin. 

But it’s like I always say: why simplify things when you can over-complicate them with trivial anecdotes and unnecessary, self-explanatory instructions? Why say something in nine words when you can do it in more than 600? What else have I got to do with my spare time?

And so, let me take you on a culinary journey into my childhood. 

Baked beans, while a much-loved staple in my cultured, grown up townhousehold, was not something I got around as a child. I mean, perhaps it was because the “beans” element was too vegetable-y for my seven-year-old palate. But I think much of my aversion to the tinned treat was related to Dennis The Menace. I have very strong memories of the robber in that movie – who I think we can all agree is the most terrifying villain in any film ever made – heating and eating tinned beans over a fire which clearly left some mental scars. So spaghetti was the tinned food of choice. 

Tinned spaghetti is extremely soggy with quite a mushy texture. You don’t have to chew the stuff; it just kind of disintegrates in your mouth. In fact, it’s so soft that you could probably chug it like a liquid, but I certainly hope I don’t hit that level of rock bottom. And I suppose this is comforting. Because if I can be in this deep of a trough and the idea of skolling spaghetti straight out the tin feels beneath me, it’s clear I still have some standards and, god willing, some hope. 

Here’s what you need:

·      While I’m not usually one to promote certain brands, I think it’s important to get the Heinz tinned spaghetti here – it has a better flavour than the generic brands and when you’re turning to this as an adult, you need to hold on to the faint glint of glamour that a name brand brings to the table (however, purchasing a tin marked “spaghetti for one” does take the shine out of it).

·      Olive oil

·      English muffins – because the real joy of this ‘recipe’ is in the squishy, sponginess of the muff, something you can’t get with just toasted bread or even a bread roll. You need that almost crumpet-like texture to achieve the effect I’m going for here

·      Bacon, preferably the shot cut kind so you don’t even have to waste time cutting your bacon to size – you just want the circular-ish bit to cover the surface of the muffin and nothing more

·      Salted butter

Here’s how to assemble:

·      Warm a drizzle of olive oil in a frypan over a medium heat, placing the bacon in when the oil gets warm enough to run freely when you tilt the frypan. You don’t want the bacon to sizzle – we’re not going for crunch here. This is about warmth and easy chewing.

·      Once the bacon is warmed on one side, put two heaped tablespoons of spaghetti into the frypan. You could microwave this, but that’s another dish to wash and you’re not up for extra washing up right now. Plus, the frypan cooking means the excess “sauce” from the tin thickens. I’m not sure what the “sauce” is, but I assume it’s somewhat tomato based. Also: you might not think this is enough spaghetti, but it is. You don’t want too much, otherwise it all leaks out as you bite into it and it burns your hands. Trust me. I’ve been there. 

·      Now’s the time to pop the muffins in the toaster – by the time they’re done cooking, your bacon and spaghetti will be ready. What you’re aiming for is warm, soft bacon and a thick spaghetti mash.

·      Slather a thick layer of butter on each muffin half, spooning the thickened spaghetti on one side of the muffin, balance the bacon on top the bright orange mush and then close the whole thing off with the second muffin half.

·      Eat carefully, gently squishing it together so you can hear the delicious squelch of butter and vaguely tomato-y goo.