"Fritz fritters" or "devon" or "German"

"luncheon meat" or "sausage" - those of you reading it in America might also think of it as a type of "spam".

"Fritz" is generally how it is known in this state - pale pink, floppy and full of fat, salt and other items best not talked about. It is cheap enough for butchers to hand over "free" slices of it to young children. There is even a version which has a "smiley" face right through it in slightly darker "meat".  

It is vile stuff but beloved by many. I have a cousin whose favourite form of sandwich is "fritz and tomato". For many other people it is "fritz and tomato sauce" (ketchup to some of you). 

I was forcefully reminded of this a few minutes ago when I read of someone admitting he did not know too much about cooking but he could make "fritz fritters". Yes, it all came flooding back to me. I was back at high school in the city for just a short while and I was living in a hostel for female students. Most of the students were at university or teacher training college. There were just eight of us still at school and I was the youngest by far. It was not a happy experience for me - only marginally better than the boarding school I went to the following year. 

The food was dreadful - although again not as bad as the food at boarding school. There would be a revolt now but back then we put up with it because at least there was plenty of it. We were supposed to get our lunchtime sandwich somewhere else but I had no extra pocket money - just enough for the bus pass to and from school. I took the Vegemite sandwich I made myself from two slices of bread filched at breakfast. I ate the cooked breakfast - except on Fridays. 

I could never face the Friday breakfast. It was always the same - "fritz fritters". These were slices of the dreaded "meat" dipped in batter and deep fried. They were greasy. They were soggy. They smelt vile. My fellow students devoured these with apparent pleasure. They would clamour to have my share. I was happy, only too happy, to pass them over. I tried not to watch as they slathered them in tomato sauce.  I am allergic to an ingredient in tomato sauce so I would have been eating them without the flavour disguised by tomato sauce.  Ugh! 

Now these things would be regarded as seriously unhealthy but they were eaten with apparent enjoyment. I do not remember anyone being fat. I do remember all the bicycles stored at the back of the building so perhaps the fritz fritters were worked off during the day.

I remember telling my mother about these things. She thought I was making it up in an effort to get some pocket money to spend at school. If it was true then I should just have eaten them. I just could not do it. Even now the thought of them makes me feel queasy.

I do wonder what would happen if they were presented to a group of hungry teenage boys. Would they eat them?