Share your Spam stories here--the meat, not the e-mail...

A couple of years ago, I brought home a can of Spam for my kids to try. Cultural experience, you know. But I chickened out at the last minute, “oh, they’ll never eat this,” so I didn’t open it. Kid #2 walked into the kitchen, said, “Hey, what’s that?” I said, “That’s Spam, you won’t like it.” He said, “Oh, yeah?” and I ended up slicing it and frying it for him, and the next thing I knew, all three of them were arguing over who got the last piece (I am not making this up).

So ever since, Spam is kind of a special treat at our house (I swear I am NOT making this up :rolleyes: would I make up something like this?)

Also, we were watching the Monty Python “Spam” skit a while ago (2 out of the 3 are old enough to understand this rarified pleasure), and I was trying to explain why Spam was such a joke, especially in Britain. “Well, it’s because after World War II, they had a severe food shortage, with rationing, and meat was especially scarce”–my kids also watched that Michael Palin movie about the pig that the people in this village were hiding, so they got that part–“and what the U.S. did was, we sent them Spam. So basically the only meat they had to eat, for years, was Spam.” That was the gist of the story as I had it from my elders. (I’m not talking about the invention of Spam, just Spam in relation to Britain and the post-war austerity program.)

But then I got to wondering if I had the story right. IS that in fact why the Monty Python skit makes Spam out to be such a big joke (there’s nothing to eat except Spam)?

Hmmm… DDG, your posts are always entertaining.

Here’s a good link I found:

It mentions Spam’s popularity during WWII, and it’s use in the military, but makes no mention of rationing in the IK after the war. However, since the product was a staple in the US military as it needs no refrigeration, it seems likely that it would’ve been supplied both in the UK and during the Berlin airlift…

For a personal Spam testimonial, I can say I once lived for several months on Spam, balogna, grits and Ramen. I can make Spam twenty different ways without even getting creative, and it’s all good!

Duck Duck Goose said:
“…the next thing I knew, all three of them were arguing over who got the last piece (I am not making this up).”

Cultural experience, my eye! As a Hawaii ex-pat I’m highly offended that all you mainlanders think Spam is disgusting. Don’t you know that Hawaii residents eat the highest quantity of Spam per person in the entire country? That succulent, pink meat thing… sliced and fried in soy sauce, and molded into a rice log to make “Spam Musubi” (or as I’ve seen it bastardized on the Mainland, “Spam Sushi”). Ahhhh… manna of the gods.

“So ever since, Spam is kind of a special treat at our house (I swear I am NOT making this up :rolleyes: would I make up something like this?)”

Your family would enjoy a vacation in Hawaii, Ducky.

“…But then I got to wondering if I had the story right. IS that in fact why the Monty Python skit makes Spam out to be such a big joke (there’s nothing to eat except Spam)?”

I can’t be sure, but you might be interpreting things way too deeply there, Duck Duck. However I’m sure someone here will be able to contribute their two bits of sushi.

Many times I would prepare for an afternoon of movie watching at home with my stock of bread, mayo, and SPAM–making sandwiches until either I couldn’t eat any more or I ran out of materials. . . .

As vegetarians traveling in Nepal, we enjoyed the tendency of the sherpas towards vegetarian diets. Dal baat every day for me, please!

Until we got to Annapurna base camp. Here, the expedition had a hired chef who tried to cook western food. To avoid starvation I resorted to eating spam when it was so small I couldn’t pick it out of whatever the meal was that day.

Spam isn’t so bad if you can avoid thinking about the 18 jillion milligrams of sodium in it.

Baglady! Thank you! So good to hear from other Hawaii folk. :cool:

I’m not crazy over Spam myself, but I gotta admit, when you crave a Spam musubi, there are no substitues.

Darn you, you’ve made me hungry!

Well, once I had to have oral surgery.
SO I couldn’t eat after 10 p.m. the night before.
I had the surgery, an couldn’t eat til the novocaine wore off around 4 p.m. the next day.
All we had around that didn’t need to be fixed was spam.
It was sooooo good.
Only because I was starving.:slight_smile:

Every night for the past year, I’ve slept with a can of Spam less than six inches away from my head. Same can, too, the whole time.

AudreyK said:

Yeah… but now that I don’t eat pork or beef, I can’t eat Spam!!! :frowning: Hormel needs to start selling Spicken!

Yup, Spam is made in my homestate of Minnesota. I’m very proud of Spam, our mosquitoes, and the infamous Herschel (sp?) Walker trade.

Nothing like opening a can of Spam and seeing that lump of congealed grease at one end.


Mom loves it, so does gramma. Of course, they also like liver and onions and sauerkraut all mixed together, so what do I know?

Ohh, wonderful, lovely SPAM…

My mom used to make these great open-faced sandwiches with SPAM and a hunk of Velveeta cheese. Throw both into a food processor, salad shooter, etc. And when they are nothing but a thick paste, spread on bread and pop them onto a cookie sheet. Then throw it into the oven on broil, and wait for it to brown… It’s wonderful!

Ok, now I’m going to the store to get some Velveeta and SPAM… Munch, munch, munch…

My mom introduced us kids to a taste sensation which most of you would respond to with a stomach clenching, “Gaak!”

Take a toasted toaster waffle and place on a cookie sheet.

On top of the waffle place, in this order, 1 1/2 slices of Spam, one ring canned pineapple, Velveeta slices to cover.

Place in oven to heat through, then move to broiler to brown the cheese.

Slice*. Eat.

Repeat as necessary, or until bloated and completely sated.

  • I’ve found wedge shapes work best (even with rectangular waffles) as you get a piece of pneapple in each bite.

There is nothing intrinsically dreadful about SPAM, except of course for the vast amounts of sodium it contains. Of course, the only wretched thing about SPAM is that after eating almost nothing BUT SPAM for several weeks running, you want to have something else. ANYTHING else!

When I was a kid and we were poor (I never knew it until years later) my mom suddenly realized just how cost-effective SPAM was. We had it for breakfast (instead of sausages), lunch (thickly-sliced on sandwiches), and dinner. We had SPAM casseroles, baked SPAM, fried SPAM, grilled SPAM, SPAM sauteed in butter, SPAM, gravy and biscuits, SPAM, SPAM, SPAM, SPAM, SPAM, SPAM, SPAM. I think we might even have had it ala mode, but that might have been a SPAM-induced nightmare.

Eventually, we began to resent SPAM, not for what it was, but for what it wasn’t. SPAM wasn’t roast beef, ham (although it masquerades as such, REAL ham isn’t rectangular and small), sausage, bacon, cold cuts, chicken, or anything else except ground up, cooked & seasoned pork butt. The lack of variety turned us against it.

I don’t care how you season it. SPAM always tastes like SPAM. This is okay if you want SPAM, but if you are sick and tired of that gristly, salty, pink and gelatinous stuff, you don’t care what it is, you want something else. Once we were able to afford something else, we stopped having SPAM so often, and the frequency of SPAM sightings at our dinner table eventually dropped to zero.

We don’t hate SPAM. We simply consumed enough that we had the flavor memorized and wanted to move on to something else. I will not refuse to eat SPAM, but I am not so fond of the flavor that I’m ready for more.

<Anecdote>(I think this must’ve happened to many soldiers in WW II) My Uncle was stationed in Italy during WW II. When his birthday arrived (actually several weeks later – the mail was kind of slow) he recieved a package from home. It was a can of SPAM and a lovely letter about how the whole family thought this was such wonderful stuff and they saved up their ration points so they could send him this wonderful meat-product-in-a-can.

His outfit had been subsisting on almost nothing but SPAM for several weeks, and they were sick of the stuff. He gave the can to a family he met there.</Anecdote>


Had to share…

I, too, was exposed to a lot of spam (SPAM? is it an acronym?) in my youth. I always hated it. The only way I could palate it was cold, raw, plain, sliced.

My spam story: I was barely seven when my little brother was born. Mom was in the hospital for about 3 days (in those days, they didn’t kick you out 12 hours after giving birth). Dad was the cook. He said I could have anything for dinner that I wanted, as long as it had spam in it. I asked for a margarine and jelly sandwich with spam. (Margarine and jelly sandwiches were my favorite treat.) Dad obliged, and then watched as I took the spam out of the sandwich and ate it separately, then enjoyed my margarine and jelly sandwich.

The butter and jelly didn’t hurt. Needless to say, I am now a vegetarian.

If you ever get a chance to visit Anchorage, Alaska, the Fly-By-Night Club is one of the places you really should see. Not only is the place run by a zany, entertaining character named Mr. Whitekeys, SPAM is honored in many ways. When I was the bartender at the old location, the menu included items such as Champagne & SPAM, Whiskey & SPAM, Beer & SPAM, and SPAM & french fries. There were cans of SPAM on the bar, posters of SPAM on the wall, and prizes of SPAM were given to trivia contest winners. The FBN Club has great entertainment and a devastatingly funny seasonal revue show called, at appropriate times, “Springtime in Spenard”, “Chritmas in Spenard”, “The Whalefat Follies” (summertime), and occasional spur-of-the-moment extravaganzas. If you like biting political satire and topical silliness, the FBN Club is just the ticket.