Spam’s meaty return
Even before the pandemic, the miracle meat (not the email) was making a comeback
Even before the pandemic, the miracle meat (not the email) was making a comeback.
Ham or can of Spam? Maybe you’ve stockpiled the Hormel canned meat, not knowing the length or magnitude of this pandemic. Spam has a loooong shelf life: Think years. Maybe coronavirus consequences have forced you to stretch a standard, 12-ounce can of Spam — the price of which hovers around $3 — into multiple meals. (A grocer’s recent six-package limit on ramen noodles, three for $1, confirms that our struggles — and hoarding — continue.) And maybe the notion of eating Spam is enough to give you flashbacks.
“When my husband was in the Army, we ate Spam often,” says Janet Sura of Racine. “It was inexpensive. I tried cooking it many ways but found that topping Spam with a little brown sugar and adding pineapple, then baking it for 30 minutes, was perfect.” The last time she ate it? At least 50 years ago.
To Tim Morrissey, a Hortonville native, Spam is a reminder of lean times that lasted a decade, until his dad’s income “allowed for trips to the meat market to buy better protein.” He figures his mom used Spam in five or six meals every week during the 1950s.
“There were Spam sandwiches for lunch on Wednesday,” Morrissey recalls. “Two nights a week it was fried Spam as the main entrée with veggies and baked or mashed potatoes. At least two mornings each week, breakfast was Spam diced and fried in Crisco along with diced leftover potatoes, sometimes with an egg or two added.”
Bill Lubing of Madison associates Spam with “serious fishing,” father-son outings in Canada. “One of the highlights was the noontime shore lunch,” he says. “The guide would land the fishing boat on one of the piney islands to build a fire,
clean and cook the fish and set out tin plates” for the feast.
That was the plan unless no one caught fish. “We were introduced to this backup fisherman’s friend called Spam,” Lubing says. “We were kids and loved it, kinda. My dad did a good but not completely successful job of convincing us that Spam was darn near as good as fresh Canadian walleye caught on your own hook.”
That was then. This is now: Spam was on pace for a sixth consecutive year of record sales in 2020. Retail sales were up 28% by September, says Brian Lillis, brand manager for the product.
“Even before the COVID-19 crisis, the Spam brand was connecting with today’s consumer in a way it never had before,” he asserts.
Why? Affordability, a long shelf life and versatility are contributing factors, making it “an easy tradition to pass down from generation to generation,” Lillis says.
And the popularity in recent years of a high-fat, low-carb diet probably hasn’t hurt Spam’s fortunes.
At press time, only seven of a dozen Spam varieties — classic, low sodium, lite, bacon, hot and spicy, turkey and hickory smoked — were in stock through an online Spam gift shop because of high consumer demand.
Let me count the ways
Hormel Foods Corp. joined with Fox Chapel Publishing to produce “The Ultimate Spam Cookbook: 100+ Quick and Delicious Recipes From Traditional to Gourmet” ($13), which came out in August. Recipes come from professional chefs, food bloggers, contest winners and others. The compendium sneaks Spam into enchilada breakfast casseroles and kimchi fried rice, pho and banh mi, grilled cheese sandwiches and sloppy joes. Consider it a reflection of the international attention and momentum that the product has gained.
At is a way to search for U.S. restaurants where offerings include Spam. The search option was added, Lillis says, because “we are seeing more and more restaurants serving Spam products on their menus” and more consumers posting recipes with Spam on social media.
Franks Diner, in Kenosha, is the only Wisconsin restaurant to be found that way. Owner Kevin Ervin says he buys 21 cans of Spam weekly. Grilled Spam on homemade bread — typically served with mustard and grilled onions — is a popular sandwich there.
Spam is one of five meat options and “one of the more popular items added” to the diner’s Garbage Plate, a breakfast of eggs, hash browns, cheese and more. Ervin says the Garbage Plate is the most popular menu item at Franks, which began operation in 1926 and whose structural core is a railroad car.
“People either love it or hate,” he says, of the typical dining party’s reaction when someone orders Spam. It is a food attached to strong sentiments.
Lisa Dziadulewicz of Sheboygan earned a trip to Hawaii for winning the 2015 Great American Spam Championship with her Gemütlichkeit Sandwich recipe, which uses a version of Spam with bacon. Meat slices are triple dipped (flour, egg, then panko crumbs) before frying. It goes on a toasted pretzel bun and is topped with spicy mustard and a slaw of braised red cabbage with sauteed chunks of onion and bacon.
“I treat the Spam like schnitzel,” she told a reporter at that time. “It’s a nice, crisp texture on the outside, and the Spam is softer on the inside.”
This recipe, adapted from “The Ultimate Spam Cookbook: 100+ Quick and Delicious Recipes from Traditional to Gourmet,” lists House of Tsang as the preferred brand of General Tso’s sauce.
Savory Spam Classic With Ramen
(Serves 4)
2 packages instant ramen noodles, Oriental flavor, 3 ounces each
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
1⁄2 can classic Spam, cut into matchstick strips
2 tablespoons prepared stir-fry sauce such as General Tso’s
1 cup snow peas
1 cup mushrooms, sauteed
1 cup carrots, cut into strips
2 eggs, boiled 7 minutes for a jammy yolk
Cook ramen noodles according to package directions, using the seasoning packet.
Heat oil in large skillet over medium-high heat. Sauté Spam 3 to 5 minutes. Add stir-fry sauce near the end of cooking. Remove sizzled meat from pan.
Add snow peas and carrots to skillet and cook 2 minutes. Add sauteed mushrooms and heat another 2 minutes. Stir mixture and Spam into ramen with broth, tossing to coat.
Serve in bowls. Garnish each bowl with an egg half, sliced lengthwise.
From-scratch Spam
A monthly special at Lazy Susan in Bay View is a Korean fried chicken dinner with house-made kimchi, plus macaroni and cheese made with owner A.J. Dixon’s rendition of Spam. The meat is baked, diced and fried before it’s added to the mac and cheese. The dish draws on Spam’s international history; it was introduced in South Korea during the Korean War and remains popular there.
Why make her own? “Because Spam’s kind of gross,” Dixon says, half-jokingly. She wanted to create something similar but less processed. “A ham loaf — that’s what it really is,” and Dixon says hers is firmer than the canned product.
The Lazy Susan recipe is ham and other pork that is “ground so fine it’s like a paste,” a labor-intensive endeavor. Sriracha hot sauce is the secret ingredient: “It provides a little tang” and “helps with the color” so Dixon’s finished product is not a gray loaf of meat.
Before the pandemic, the Korean chicken dinner was a weekly special. Then Lazy Susan turned into a takeout-only operation with an abbreviated menu.
The restaurant specialty is gluten-free meals, and that includes the Korean chicken, fried in three kinds