SPAM not so fantastic

By Jordan Struessnig

SPAM. It’s a great source of … SPAM.

As college students, sometimes… SPAM. It’s a great source of … SPAM.

As college students, sometimes we’ve got to take some risky ventures when it comes to our cuisine because time and money are short. But should we go so far as SPAM? What exactly is it that is lurking behind that well-known label, anyhow?

According to the package, SPAM consists of pork shoulder meat, ham, salt, water, modified potato starch to bind all the yumminess together and sodium nitrate to maintain that vibrant, appetizing pink color.

SPAM was first created, in 1937 and was originally called Hormel Spiced Ham. When market share began to fall, Hormel launched a naming competition. According to WordIQ.com, SPAM has been said to be an acronym for Shoulder of Pork and Ham by a Hormel official.

However, the public has come up with its own ideas for what SPAM really stands for. Specially Processed Assorted Meat, perhaps? Or better yet, Something Posing As Meat? We might never know for sure.

The ambiguity of the name, however, has not stopped people — college students and beyond — from downing can after tasty can of the stuff.

SPAM saw a particularly large rise in popularity during World War II, especially in Hawaii where meat was difficult to come by. Hawaii is still the biggest consumer of SPAM in the world per capita, according to WordIQ.com, consuming on average 5.5 cans per second (compared with the United States’ 3.1 cans per second).

SPAM comes in many varieties including SPAM Hot & Spicy, SPAM Hickory Smoked and SPAM Spread for those who’d rather just smear it on rather than waste their precious between-class time slicing.

SPAM mania doesn’t stop with just eating it, either.

SPAMarama, a public fair dedicated to the consumption, versatility and overall fun of SPAM, takes place in Austin, Texas annually since 1978.

The fair is known for its notorious SPAM cooking competition, which has included recipes such as Doug Holloway’s Stuffed SPAM with Sauce a la Pepto, Carl Hickerson’s Kosher Gas Attack, SPAM brownies and even SPAM ice cream.

Because SPAM, dare I say it, doesn’t always taste great when eaten for dessert, each judge is allowed three “passes” for those porcine concoctions that are less than appealing, and, in addition to an award for the best-tasting entry, they also present one lucky SPAM-lover an award for the worst submission, according to Hubpages.com. Partying with SPAM is a win-win situation.

Then of course there is the SPAM eating contest, SPAM toss and SPAM tug-of-war, which takes place on either side of a large pit of the meat of the hour, SPAM.

But like I said, it’s otherwise your typical, run-of-the-mill shindig.

SPAM Jam, held yearly in Austin, Minn., is yet another celebration of this little meaty joy.

According to WordIQ.com, in addition to parades, games and fireworks, guests at SPAM Jam will likely come across “copious amounts of blue and yellow [the colors of the packaging], and myriad dancing men and women in large SPAM can costumes.”

As Austin, Minn., is the location of the Hormel facility that produces SPAM, it has got even more to offer fans than the festivities of SPAM Jam.

It is also the home of the SPAM museum, where visitors can take a guided tour through the history of SPAMdom, led by an official “SPAMbassador,” according to Roadsideamerica.com.

Upon entering the museum, one is confronted with a large wall o’SPAM, consisting of 3,390 cans stacked to the ceiling. There are interactive activities so that people can get an idea of what it would have felt like to work on a SPAM assembly line before the advent of machinery that does the job.

The SPAM museum also features a small theater — which plays a 15-minute film about SPAM — a gift shop boasting SPAM memorabilia, and as visitors make their way through the facility, “the ‘Monty Python’ cast” can “be heard singing ‘SPAM’ through a loudspeaker, over and over.”

Mmmm, I can just hear it now, and it’s making me want to toss a can in my backpack for later.