You can positively change the whole world without intending to.
From a food truck peddling Hawaiian-Korean fusion dishes in Seattle to an underground Japanese speakeasy in D.C. to a Korean barbecue restaurant that focuses on home cooking in New York City, one ingredient is surprisingly constant: Spam.
In recent years, a growing number of Asian American and Pacific Islander chefs are working against anti-Spam stigma to bring the meat to the American fine-dining scene. But how did the pink block of meat, a product of American industrialization, make its way into these Asian cuisines in the first place?
Hormel Foods Corporation [peace and blessings be upon them - Ed], a U.S.-based food conglomerate, produced the first can of Spam — a mix of pork, salt, water, sugar and sodium nitrite — in 1937 in Minnesota. (Modified potato starch was added in 2001 to minimize the thick layer of gelatin.) But the canned meat really rose to international prominence during World War II.
After the bombing of Pearl Harbor, the American military was deployed to the Pacific, and troops made their way to places like Guam, Japan, the Philippines and South Korea. Wherever American troops went, Spam followed, says Robert Ku, a professor of Asian American Studies at the State University of New York at Binghamton and the author of Dubious Gastronomy: The Cultural Politics of Eating Asian in the USA. Though brand-name Spam was not always part of official G.I. rations, it had a number of wartime and post-war uses, and stuck around in places that experienced prolonged American military presence after the war ended.
In the Philippines, people were fleeing from Japanese invasion, and resisting its occupation from 1941 to 1945, when they were first introduced to Spam. On some Pacific Islands, Spam became a necessity for survival for many local residents due to food rationing and restrictions during the war. And for many Japanese Americans, their love for Spam began with one of the most painful memories, Ku writes in his book: The U.S. government sent canned meat to the incarceration camps where people of Japanese descent were forced to relocate and later detained from 1942 to 1945.
I'm not going to lie to you. I'm 63 years old and I don't care how much longer I have to hang around this plane of existence. To be perfectly honest, I'm absolutely flabbergasted that I've made it this long and more than a little annoyed with God that I'm still here.
I LOVE Spam.
Got five cans sitting in my cupboard right now. I've used Spam in soups and stews. It makes a kickass chili and it really improves mac-and-cheese. Or salads. Or just about everything else you can think to throw it into.
Spam is like canned bacon. There is literally nothing that it can't improve.
And what sentient being among us wouldn't enjoy an SLT topped off with Duke's? Amirite?
From a food truck peddling Hawaiian-Korean fusion dishes in Seattle to an underground Japanese speakeasy in D.C. to a Korean barbecue restaurant that focuses on home cooking in New York City, one ingredient is surprisingly constant: Spam.
In recent years, a growing number of Asian American and Pacific Islander chefs are working against anti-Spam stigma to bring the meat to the American fine-dining scene. But how did the pink block of meat, a product of American industrialization, make its way into these Asian cuisines in the first place?
Hormel Foods Corporation [peace and blessings be upon them - Ed], a U.S.-based food conglomerate, produced the first can of Spam — a mix of pork, salt, water, sugar and sodium nitrite — in 1937 in Minnesota. (Modified potato starch was added in 2001 to minimize the thick layer of gelatin.) But the canned meat really rose to international prominence during World War II.
After the bombing of Pearl Harbor, the American military was deployed to the Pacific, and troops made their way to places like Guam, Japan, the Philippines and South Korea. Wherever American troops went, Spam followed, says Robert Ku, a professor of Asian American Studies at the State University of New York at Binghamton and the author of Dubious Gastronomy: The Cultural Politics of Eating Asian in the USA. Though brand-name Spam was not always part of official G.I. rations, it had a number of wartime and post-war uses, and stuck around in places that experienced prolonged American military presence after the war ended.
In the Philippines, people were fleeing from Japanese invasion, and resisting its occupation from 1941 to 1945, when they were first introduced to Spam. On some Pacific Islands, Spam became a necessity for survival for many local residents due to food rationing and restrictions during the war. And for many Japanese Americans, their love for Spam began with one of the most painful memories, Ku writes in his book: The U.S. government sent canned meat to the incarceration camps where people of Japanese descent were forced to relocate and later detained from 1942 to 1945.
I'm not going to lie to you. I'm 63 years old and I don't care how much longer I have to hang around this plane of existence. To be perfectly honest, I'm absolutely flabbergasted that I've made it this long and more than a little annoyed with God that I'm still here.
I LOVE Spam.
Got five cans sitting in my cupboard right now. I've used Spam in soups and stews. It makes a kickass chili and it really improves mac-and-cheese. Or salads. Or just about everything else you can think to throw it into.
Spam is like canned bacon. There is literally nothing that it can't improve.
And what sentient being among us wouldn't enjoy an SLT topped off with Duke's? Amirite?
6 comments:
My mother made a spam-noodle casserole that's really tasty (whole bag of egg noodles, cooked, drained, can of spam diced, large cream of mushroom soup thinned with milk, small can of peas.) I still make it for my husband and my son cooks it for himself and his wife.
I have also made "ham salad" for finger roll sandwiches using spam (run through the meat-grinder or mashed) with minced green pepper, onion, and mayo.
Of course, no discussion of spam would be complete without this.
I call foul. These Asians are engaging in cultural appropriation. :-)
My mom used Spam. That spam-noodle casserole sounds good, TLM.
Spam is considered a delicacy on the Hawaiian islands. Stop at any gas station & under the heat lamp at the food counter will be a sushi or two with a slice of spam where the fish would be.
[Your robot-buster has gotten over that team USA won the World Cup. That, or it is dead drunk from drowning its sorrows.]
Kathherine,
I forgot to mention that I heat up the soup, thin it with a half can of milk, and add the diced spam and peas, heat thoroughly, then mix that with the cooked noodles and throw all into a greased casserole pan, (or two, depending on the size of the pan)sprinkle with paprika and maybe a little dried parsley. Heat through in a 350°F oven - about 20-30 minutes. The left-overs or the second casserole can be frozen for later. It really is good.
Anybody else, besides me, ever have fried Spam with pineapple for Sunday night dinner? (Maybe it's a Rhode Island thing.)
I haven't yet tried it with pineapple (sounds incredible) but I've fried it with a lot of other things.
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