This morning I ate something I never thought I'd eat again. SPAM!I remembered, for some reason, I never liked the stuff. My dad loved it and forced me to eat it. One of those WWII things I guess. I hadn't eaten the stuff in so long, I forgot why I didn't like it. Well, I got the chance to recall why. My lovely husband brought home a can of the stuff in the spirit of the depression/recession we're living in these days. I was torn about this. On the one hand, I could remember hating the stuff, and on the other, I was intrigued. I mean, all Hawaiians eat the stuff right? Even McDonald's in Hawaii serve it. Maybe it was just a childhood thing. There are so many things I didn't like as a kid that I do now, things like avocados and crab, so hey! Maybe it'll be an eating revelation. So I fried it up in some butter, like it said to do on the can, along with some fried eggs.
The first bite, for me, was unbelievably salty. And I'm a salt maniac. I over salt EVERYTHING, and this was too salty for me. I didn't remember that from my childhood. My husband devoured it. The girls fell in love with it. I enjoyed half of the first slice, then I started feeling extremely thirsty. I forced down two whole slices, regretting it as I ate it, as my husband moaned in pleasure an my girls raved about the stuff, all the while telling me how thirsty they were quickly becoming. About 10 minutes after it was gone, my stomach cramped up and I was running for the bathroom. This only happened to me, everyone else was fine. I spent my entire morning on the couch in a nauseous state burping the stuff, remembering this is the reason I didn't like the stuff as a child. It all came back to me. That affect it has on my stomach. I don't think I can ever eat the stuff again. It's probably more of a mental thing, but Spam just doesn't sit on my stomach well. If I ever go to Hawaii, I'll have to avoid the Spam burgers and just stick with the roast pig at the Luau. So, I think if I have to depend on Spam as my depression meat, I may have to become a vegetarian and just eat what has been grown in our garden. I'll leave the can's of Spam to my family, who, like my father, seem to love the stuff.
So! In the spirit of Spam and eggs, enjoy this Monty Python skit about Spam: