"I took the grand-bairns down the Baltic to play with the Meccano model of the Tyne Bridge," she told Newcastle Stuff, over a morning pint in her local. "But they kept getting telt-off for touching things - so I decided to cheer them up with a 'special' tea when they got home."

It was when Hilda opened a tin of Spam, found at the back of her cupboard, that she realised her true genius. "As soon as I opened it, I thought: 'that's the fuckin' Baltic'."

After several skillful cuts from a nearby knife, she'd shaped the hunk of spiced ham into what local critics are calling a masterpiece.

"It's champion - exactly what I imagine the Baltic looks like," said one old Gateshead boy, in The Honeysuckle.

"Ye divvent hev to gan - I see it at least once a week and Hilda's got it just cush," added Fat Darren, before nipping out to check his taxi hadn't been nicked.

Hilda has followed up her Spam Baltic with an equally inspirational sculpture of another local landmark. Her Gateshead Car Park was hewn from a single lump of lard, and is dazzling in its attention to detail.

But Hilda's having difficulty introducing Baltic boss Sune Nordgren to her work.

"I've been up and down Gateshead High Street looking for this gallery gadgie but nobody's ever seen him," said the woman they're calling the 'Michelangelo of Tinned Meat'.

"He must get his shopping in somewhere, and it's not KwikSave or the Food Weighhouse. He's probably minted and shops in Tesco," she said, a little enviously.

"Never mind. I got a pound of chicken wings from the Indoor Market, and I feel an Angel of the North coming on," she added, before necking her pint.