Stottie cake

I last had stottie cake in East Wallhouses along the Hadrian’s Wall Path. While I was up north recently, I spotted stottie cakes in Greggs, which are abundant up north, but sadly lacking in my neck of the woods, so I bought a two-pack.

They’re the size of a largish side plate, rather than the size of a dinner plate, but I can forgive that.

To eat a stottie, you cut a slice as you would a round cake, then split the slice in two horizontally and fill it with corned beef and pickle, ham and pease pudding or cheese and pickle, if you don’t mind animals being killed for you, or vegan cheese and pickle if you do. I suppose you could use other fillings, but they wouldn’t be right – unless you had chips. I’ve never known chips not to work in bread.

Anyway, I had a couple of slices for an early dinner (lunch), once Mr Perkins had stopped acting like a parrot on my shoulder. I’d have chased him off, but it was the first time he’d been quiet and settled since I fetched him back from the cattery this morning.

He told me the entire tale all the way home, then went on and on about it and whatever else he could think of when he got home. He went outside, still miaowing, and came back, still miaowing.

I fed him, which hushed him for a few minutes, then he restarted the miaowing. He saw his daddy, but still wouldn’t settle. I tried sitting down so he could sit on my knee, but he still wouldn’t settle. I cuddled him a couple of times, which made him purr instead of miaow, which was nice, but didn’t last. The third time I tried to cuddle him was when he went all parrot on me.

I finally encouraged him down because my belly was rumbling and I was very uncomfortable, and made my sarnies with the stottie. On the sofa, I ate my stottie – there’s nothing like the texture of a stottie crust – he sat on my knee, and he has now curled up and settled down. I think I’m here for the duration.