The other day I got into an argument with the Bunker Hubby. This is a fairly unusual occurrence; we just don’t tend to fight very much most of the time. What was our fight about?
Spam.
You see, I (in some inoocuous turn of the discussion) had claimed the hubs had, in his earlier days, eaten Spam.
I was wrong; it was potted meat. I know; HOW could I have possibly mixed up those VASTLY different manufactured meat products?? WHAT was I THINKING???
I then went on to say that they’re the same damn thing anyway, and that was the end of civil conversation for a while. (Evidently, you can insult a man’s religion, politics, receding hairline, nonexistent abs, and even his mother, but malign his processed “meat” products, and you’re just asking for trouble, buddy!)
So to prove myself right (that Spam is just a fancy, trademarked name for potted meat), I took the hubs to a supermarket to check out the ingredients list on each item:
In case you can’t see it, the ingredients list is: pork with ham, salt, water, modified potato starch, sugar, sodium nitrite.
The potted meat, on the other hand:
has “mechanically separated chicken, beef tripe*, water, salt, and 2% or less of: mustard, natural flavors, garlic powder, vinegar, dexttrose, sodium erythorbate, and sodium nitrite”.
Mmm, spicy!
So I was wrong. I can admit that. I’m more concerned with the fact that he used to eat that stuff – and that I chose to marry a man who would eat that stuff.
It seems my judgment is not what it used to be. But hey! At least I never ate potted meat. That shit will kill you.
*For the (blissfully, to this point anyway) uninitiated, tripe is the lining of the stomach. You’re welcome.
{ 10 comments… read them below or add one }
Unfortunately, we were forced to eat that garbage as kids. It is disgusting. I can’t believe that it is still on the market. But, my question to you is this – did you go to the store just to answer this question or were you there already? Inquiring minds want to know…
Hey, at least you’re willing to admit it when you’re wrong. I do agree with you though… How could he eat that garbage?!?! I wouldn’t feed that junk to my dogs much less myself or my husband. Actually, my dogs eat almost as well as my husband and myself.
I’m a little shocked that Spam is made of sugar and not high fructose corn syrup.
@David I’m surprised, too – I fully expected there to be way more nefarious things in there. But it was surprisingly relatively free of preservatives. I suppose the “pork with ham” is bad enough.
Let’s not even talk about the potted meat. That shit is evil.
@Catherine lol I was just thinking that. Dog food is probably much higher quality meat than potted meat…some of it, anyway. What’s worse is, his brother-in-law used to eat Vienne Sausages. Dear god, the humanity!
@Michael I don’t know how people can eat it – yeh, it’s amazingly still on the market. But then, so are pickled pigs feet. There’s just no explaining some people. Oh, and we *were* supposed to take the pics when we went to the supermarket on the way to your place, but I forgot. So we took the pics when we went to the supermarket yesterday (does that make us slightly less pathetic? I didn’t think so)
Did all of this ensue after the Pig Out? Or was it a long-standing argument?
Something about ‘mechanically separated’ chicken really bothers me.
How else would it be ‘separated’? And what do they mean, exactly, by ‘separated’? Can’t they just say ‘chopped chicken’? Mechanically separated sounds like something that had to be done to the Terminator.
Pork with ham? Isn’t ham pork to begin with?
Michael forgot to mention he like Scrapple.
It’s all unidentifiable meat if you ask me!!
Garbage? You are right. I would never eat Spam! Potted meat is poorboy pate ( sorry, no way to type an accent). The only thing I regret is that i ate it with yellow mustard. (69 cents vs. grey poupon at $2.89) Besides, Spam flies. I have seen it with my own eyes.
This one time, at band camp (it was with our Scout troop on an overnight), we were cooking dinner on an open fire. Each of us brought our own food. Tiny, (aptly named for his 300 pound frame) had his can of spam sitting on a rock right next to the fire. The rock exploded from the fire getting the water trapped in the river rock to its boiling point. It is funny what excessive pressure does to a rock. Chunks of rock flew in all directions. The Spam flew upward about twenty-five feet. No one was hurt in the incident, but now when any of us hear “Spam” we flinch and get a funny taste in our mouth.