There are a number of important opportunities to take advantage of when one’s significant other is out of town. The two most important, however, are turning up the air conditioner, and drinking plenty of beer. And also maybe eating a can of Spam.
I’ve never had Spam before, at least not that I remember, but when a fellow co-worker jokingly mentioned it as something a bachelor would eat, I decided it just felt right. The 24oz Pabst Blue Ribbon I added of my own accord. I actually like PBR. I know, I know, it’s laden in hipster-rich chic, but I honestly don’t think its flavor is dreadful. And I’ve tried my share of cheap beers. Burger, Hudepohl, Hamm’s, Schlitz, Natty Light, Old Milwaukee, and I find Pabst to be the best of them all, not a terribly far cry from its much more popular domestic brethren and much cheaper. Oh, and also, for the hipster in me, this:
I wasn’t quite sure how to “prepare” spam. Both on the front and back of the can it is prepared as a sandwich, so I figured this was the best route to go. I had to stop by Kroger in order to get a loaf of bread, as the one in my home had been ridden with a bit of the fungal growth.
At first I thought it might be kind of ironic to eat it on some fancy bread, but after a short, yet heated, internal argument, I decided I wanted to sort of stick with the “everyman” Spam meal. I think of Spam as an affordable working man’s meat, and the working man, he don’t give a spit about Pepperidge Farm’s thin-sliced Deli Rye and Pumpernickel swirled half loaf. Nor Brownberry’s 10 Grain “Health-full” half loaf.
And after looking…..neither did I. I mean, really? $4.29 for a half loaf of bread? What could make it so much better? Oh, your bread has more grains than mine? And also it has a few oats in the crust? You know what, I’d just as soon buy the Kroger brand of Lite White. It tastes like bread and it has a picture of a mother playing with her daughter on the front. You know what $4.29 doesn’t buy Pepperidge Farms? Family wholesomeness. Maybe you should think of that when you’re trying to sell 16 slices of Goldfish-shaped thin slices for five bucks, you gimmicky rip-off artists!
The makings of my meal. My co-worker (Mr. Douglas Kuhlman….although around my crib I refer to him as Riptide, since he is one of the few people I have ever met who actually remembers the short-lived TV show Riptide) had mentioned I should have an egg with my Spam. I’m sure he meant a fried egg, but I have a lot of hard-boiled eggs premade. I think it’s the thought of having an egg with a meal that doesn’t really need an egg anyway. The working man loves eggs. Easy and filling. Just like the ideal woman.
A super dramatic pic of the top of the Spam can. I love cans of food with pull tabs. It makes me feel like I’m in some post-apocalyptic America, trudging down gray, desolate countryside. With every step the dust kicked up from my boots making me more and more thirsty. Finally, weak with hunger and near delusional I stumble in to a 1950s ranch-stlye home. I collapse on the floor and there, right in my line of sight, I see a small, raised ring…..a trap door! A bomb shelter! With the last remnants of my strength I pull the ring and the door flies open, revealing true, pure darkness. Ever so cautiously I descend the rickety stairs in to the shelter with the help of my trusty flashlight. Beneath is a cornucopia of canned goods. Vegetables! Beans! Preservatives! Meats! If it turns out I am the last survivor of the human race, at least I can fill that void in my soul with a spoonful of potted meat and a side of Bumbleberry Jam.
If you’re wondering what that is on the far end, it’s a seal proclaiming the 75th anniversary of Spam. The best thing about it? When I opened the can of spam, you could see the indention of the seal pressed in to the top of the meat product. Delicious.
Sans can, in all of its pinkish, gleaming glory. I’m pretty sure, if you look real hard, right in the corner, you can make out the face of Jesus. Or maybe that's the mascot from the Bad Boy Club clothing line. No, really. Google image search it. He's right there. In my Spam.
Cookin’ it up…….mmmmm…..just a bit brown on the edges now, don’t wanna over fry it…if you can do such a thing to processed/cured/nebulous/ham-bits.
The finished product. I lightly toasted the bread and added a slice of Swiss cheese, because that’s what I had in the fridge. In retrospect I kind of which it would have been a slice of neon-orange, individually packaged, Kraft American cheese, because that’s what I picture working everyman having in his fridge. But cheese is cheese, and this sandwich was certainly not going to do without.
Both of the pictures on the can had a tomato, so I added a tomato. It might be overkill, but I think it adds some much needed class to the proceedings. I considered adding a condiment as well, say mustard or mayonnaise, but I didn’t want to completely kill the flavor of the Spam. I think this is one pork-based conglomeration needing to be TASTED.
The final three word verdict? “Damn that’s SALTY!” I guess you have to add a lot of salt to canned meat you want to keep edible for 5+ years. I have to say, the tomato cut the salt a bit which made it much more palatable, and I eventually added a bit of spicy mustard, which even made it better. I think I could enjoy a Spam sandwich every once and again provided it was dressed with lettuce, cheese, tomato and mustard, preferably spicy brown. Although maybe, just maybe, I should try it in some of the ways this commercial recommends. Did somebody say Spam pizza?!