You either love it or hate it -- kind of like liver -- but Spam is making a comeback anyway. Chalk it up to the price of, well, living.
I'm not referring to the spam (lowercase 's') that clutters your inbox, but the uppercase, trademarked version that appears on your dinner plate and is usually called something else.
Yeah. That Spam. Mystery meat. The Monty Python troupe sang about it. The military probably still tells stories about it. And the earliest astronauts were derided by the real test pilots, who called them "Spam in the can."
Many people have a decades-old can of Spam in the cupboard, and it doesn't really matter how old it is. It's still as edible as it once was, as it's preserved by the same science that keeps Egyptian pharoahs looking lively after all these years.
All joking aside (for the moment), I see where people are taking Spam seriously again. There are several articles on it here: From Newsday, from the wire services, and from blogs.
Not too hard to figure. When times are tough, people have to cut corners. These days consumers are in a quandary about whether to feed the kiddies or fill the tank first, so the cheaper fare usually wins out as a good compromise.
These are times for dry beans. For rice, although supply was a little short for a while. For Ramen noodles. For Kraft Macaroni & Cheese. Long ago I'd noticed (and mentioned my findings in print) about the correlation between the federal minimum wage and the price of Kraft. I tell you, it's uncanny.
One place I've noticed Spam hasn't lost its appeal is in Hawaii. I still don't understand why, but during World War II it seems the residents developed a fixation for prepackaged rations. To this day it's the great underrated local delicacy, and there are a lot of ways to cook Spam. Some years ago, while visiting Kailua-Kona, I ran across a Spam display at a local supermarket, and ended up taking pictures of it. The only folks who thought anything unusual about the Spam display were ... the tourists.
But here, on the mainland, the mystery meat is making a comeback.
Enjoy.
I'm not referring to the spam (lowercase 's') that clutters your inbox, but the uppercase, trademarked version that appears on your dinner plate and is usually called something else.
Yeah. That Spam. Mystery meat. The Monty Python troupe sang about it. The military probably still tells stories about it. And the earliest astronauts were derided by the real test pilots, who called them "Spam in the can."
Many people have a decades-old can of Spam in the cupboard, and it doesn't really matter how old it is. It's still as edible as it once was, as it's preserved by the same science that keeps Egyptian pharoahs looking lively after all these years.
All joking aside (for the moment), I see where people are taking Spam seriously again. There are several articles on it here: From Newsday, from the wire services, and from blogs.
Not too hard to figure. When times are tough, people have to cut corners. These days consumers are in a quandary about whether to feed the kiddies or fill the tank first, so the cheaper fare usually wins out as a good compromise.
These are times for dry beans. For rice, although supply was a little short for a while. For Ramen noodles. For Kraft Macaroni & Cheese. Long ago I'd noticed (and mentioned my findings in print) about the correlation between the federal minimum wage and the price of Kraft. I tell you, it's uncanny.
One place I've noticed Spam hasn't lost its appeal is in Hawaii. I still don't understand why, but during World War II it seems the residents developed a fixation for prepackaged rations. To this day it's the great underrated local delicacy, and there are a lot of ways to cook Spam. Some years ago, while visiting Kailua-Kona, I ran across a Spam display at a local supermarket, and ended up taking pictures of it. The only folks who thought anything unusual about the Spam display were ... the tourists.
But here, on the mainland, the mystery meat is making a comeback.
Enjoy.
1 comment:
This reminds me of one of my beer-and-ganja memories of a wife or two ago. We were sitting around the campfire one night, burning tires and playing music for pyromaniacs. Somehow the subject of Spam came up. To this day, I defy anybody to explain how Spam just comes up in conversation.
In any event, it did. We were trying to figure out the acronym. The best we came up with was Special Product Almost Meat.
We also debated whether or not, like Twinkies, it would survive the coming nuclear holocaust or another Clinton term.
In a frenzy, no doubt caused more by some fine smoke than massive quantities of alcohol, decided to go to Hormel.com. They are foolish enough (or were then, at least) to have a link to send them an email. Sort of like Ask Ann Landers for the meat-eaters.
So naturally, I posed the question in my not-so-subtle way:
Dear Hormel:
I understand that Spam is not really meat but some form of compressed gelatinous seaweed, formulated with sewer scum and sprinkled with flecks of rodent droppings. And we also hear that it was scientifically designed to last at least as long as cockroaches. And what exactly does SPAM stand for? Respectfully, a curious citizen.
Within 24 hours we received a reply. Not something snarky, but a generous, wholehearted response sent by a caring human being. Said human did correct our thinking, stating that Spam really is a mix of otherwise unwanted animal byproducts. What a PR guy he is.
Kind of makes me want to open a can now...
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