Spam the food has been immensely popular since it's introduction in 1937 by the Hormel Foods Corporation. When I think of spam I think of everything that is wrong in the world. Nevertheless growing up I ate my fair share of the luncheon meat.
I have some fond memories of toasting it on a stick over a camp fire then smothering it in ketchup on a slice of Wonder Bread. If you dropped spam in the fire it kept it's shape. You could fish it out and brush it off with a twig.
I'm working on a story called Victoria and Copperhead Beals ( A Yukon Love Story). Kevin, aka, Copperhead is placer mining on Blanc Raven Creek when two friends, Billy and Chief Daniel, drop in for a visit.
"Looks like you got a real good operation going here," Chief Daniel said, "any gold?"
"Yes a bit, but not enough to buy a Cadillac."
I invited them to fry spam over the fire. We ate two cans, a loaf of bread, and half a bottle of ketchup and drank two pots of coffee.
"Nothing like camp food," Chief Daniel said whittling a toothpick.
"Better than home cooking," Billy said picking grounds out of his coffee.
When Billy went down to the boat to get his tobacco and papers, I confided in Chief Daniel about Victoria.
"You know that young lady, Victoria, the one Mr. Cooper hired in his store? I can't get her out of my mind."
"Sounds like love to me Kevin. There is nothing worse than a lonely young miner stuck on a creek heart sick about a gal back in town. I think Robert Service wrote poems about that kind of stuff. And I'm sure Hank Williams sang about it. I saw that young lady working at Cooper's. She's a real looker alright."
We spent the next hour polishing off the last pot of coffee and exchanging spam recipes.
"You know when you open a can of spam and there is about one inch sticking up," Billy asked?
"Yes," I said.
"Well you dice that up in half inch cubes then put a fork in and pull out another inch, dice that until the can is empty."
Chief Daniel finished the recipe.
"Then you fry those little cubes in margarine and mix them in a can of vegetable soup. It makes two servings."
"Three if you add more water," Billy said.
"I've got one for you," I said, "you cook Kraft dinner, slice the spam razor thin and make a layer of macaroni then spam then macaroni and so on. Bake for ten minutes in a hot oven and enjoy."
We agreed that spam stuffing was the best for the Christmas turkey.
Hormel Foods celebrated seven billion cans of spam sold in 2007. That is about one can for every person on this earth.
I bought a can of spam the other day. It was awful. All I could think about was the poor pig that died. I chopped it up in cubes, fried them in butter and added a can of bake beans. It was still awful. I then washed the can, which is a work of art, and set it on my desk to hold staples, paper clips and other things.
I would not recommend eating spam. The fox that visits our back yard will get the leftovers.
I have some fond memories of toasting it on a stick over a camp fire then smothering it in ketchup on a slice of Wonder Bread. If you dropped spam in the fire it kept it's shape. You could fish it out and brush it off with a twig.
I'm working on a story called Victoria and Copperhead Beals ( A Yukon Love Story). Kevin, aka, Copperhead is placer mining on Blanc Raven Creek when two friends, Billy and Chief Daniel, drop in for a visit.
"Looks like you got a real good operation going here," Chief Daniel said, "any gold?"
"Yes a bit, but not enough to buy a Cadillac."
I invited them to fry spam over the fire. We ate two cans, a loaf of bread, and half a bottle of ketchup and drank two pots of coffee.
"Nothing like camp food," Chief Daniel said whittling a toothpick.
"Better than home cooking," Billy said picking grounds out of his coffee.
When Billy went down to the boat to get his tobacco and papers, I confided in Chief Daniel about Victoria.
"You know that young lady, Victoria, the one Mr. Cooper hired in his store? I can't get her out of my mind."
"Sounds like love to me Kevin. There is nothing worse than a lonely young miner stuck on a creek heart sick about a gal back in town. I think Robert Service wrote poems about that kind of stuff. And I'm sure Hank Williams sang about it. I saw that young lady working at Cooper's. She's a real looker alright."
We spent the next hour polishing off the last pot of coffee and exchanging spam recipes.
"You know when you open a can of spam and there is about one inch sticking up," Billy asked?
"Yes," I said.
"Well you dice that up in half inch cubes then put a fork in and pull out another inch, dice that until the can is empty."
Chief Daniel finished the recipe.
"Then you fry those little cubes in margarine and mix them in a can of vegetable soup. It makes two servings."
"Three if you add more water," Billy said.
"I've got one for you," I said, "you cook Kraft dinner, slice the spam razor thin and make a layer of macaroni then spam then macaroni and so on. Bake for ten minutes in a hot oven and enjoy."
We agreed that spam stuffing was the best for the Christmas turkey.
Hormel Foods celebrated seven billion cans of spam sold in 2007. That is about one can for every person on this earth.
I bought a can of spam the other day. It was awful. All I could think about was the poor pig that died. I chopped it up in cubes, fried them in butter and added a can of bake beans. It was still awful. I then washed the can, which is a work of art, and set it on my desk to hold staples, paper clips and other things.
I would not recommend eating spam. The fox that visits our back yard will get the leftovers.