I'm sitting here writing my FSP application for next spring and I cannot concentrate. I'm drawn to the can of SPAM on my windowsill and it reminds me of everything that's happened in the past few weeks. Where did this term go? It seems like a few short days ago I was home, and now I'm enmeshed in a battle with four papers and a mid-term. But the SPAM keeps returning to the forefront of my thoughts. A friend from Miami sent it around Halloween in case I should get snowed in. I've never really looked at it before and I discover a little circle on the front of the can, in the bottom left corner of the spamburger, which says "U.S. inspected and passed by Department of Agriculture." Whew! I sure was worried! Goodness me. I'm so pleased the Department of Agriculture has passed this tin of SPAM. However, there is no expiration date.
I flip SPAM over and discover that there are 3.5 servings of SPAM in this 7oz. tin. Hmm don't want to be too generous with your 2 oz. servings! I've also learned that there are no carbohydrates in SPAM. And it contains twice as much fat as protein. And while there may be no fiber, vitamins A or C, or calcium, SPAM contains two percent of your daily iron serving, not to mention 750 mg of sodium.
Ooh, a website -- www.spam.com. As my application is not furthering itself, I decide to investigate. I'm welcomed with "it's the Official SPAM home page. Feeling adventurous, I click on the "eat SPAM" link only to discover that "few foods are as versatile as SPAM Luncheon Meat. There seems to be no end to the creative and tasty ways you can enjoy SPAM." I decided to "see for myself. Better yet, taste for myself." After finding the recipe search browser, I look for some tasty SPAM treats. Choosing the "I want to Deep Fry" option, I submit my search for SPAM salads. "To tell you the truth, SPAM luncheon meat surprises even us. There seems to be no end to the ways people have come up with to enjoy its great taste" pops up along with the recipe for SPAM "Cantaloupe Salad" (key ingredients: SPAM, crushed pineapple, sour cream, yogurt, and cantaloupe). I run to the bathroom. I'm not stomach enough to look at the recipe for "Avocado Mousse Salad." I also stayed away from "SPAM Stew with Buttermilk Topping."
Should anyone be in the area from August 27 to September 9, there's a national "Best SPAM Recipe" contest at the Champlain Valley Expo in Essex Junction, Vermont. Expected attendance: 304,000! I visit the "SPAM Family Tree" to discover that not only is there Original SPAM, but "smoke-flavored SPAM" ("adds something special to your menu: The great outdoors. share that fire with friends. Or savor it all by yourself"), "less sodium SPAM" ("the only person who'll notice a difference is your doctor"), and "SPAM lite" ("the possibilities are many. The calories are few").
I also find out that "SPAM may be famous now, but it wasn't always that way. Fact is, SPAM hails from some rather humble beginnings." SPAM is a product of Minnesota, and "Hawaiians eat more SPAM per person than any people in any other state." The page further informs me that "these good folks hit upon an amazing little recipe: a spicy ham packaged in a handy dandy 12-ounce can." Searching for a name, they held a contest to find one "as distinctive as its taste." More than 5 billion sold. After determining that I just spent two hours on a website dedicated to a "pork shoulder and ham" by-product, I return to my application. But you better start eating --"3.6 more [cans are] added every second."
