One of the great things about delicacies is that, while they may be rare, they are only worth what someone is willing to pay for them. For example, sturgeon eggs may be a taste treat, but if nobody is willing to fork over the a small fortune, then they are, essentially, just bait. Recently, this simple fact has become quite important as lobster, which was once priced well out of the range of the average person has started to come within reach. The freakish crustaceans are now going for about $2.50 per pound wholesale, down from a high of about $10 per pound in spring 2007. In terms of retail price, this translates into a drop of at least $4 per pound. In some Boston-area seafood markets, the price hovered in the $7 range earlier this year; depending upon one's location, it has subsequently dipped well below that.

There are two big reasons for the great lobster drop. One is the fact that many high-end consumers, the kinds of people who could afford to eat lobster regularly, were hit particularly hard by 2008's financial meltdown. The second reason lies in the collapse of Iceland's economy: seafood producers in Canada that used Icelandic banks have not been able to get the credit they need to buy large amounts of lobster.

Personally, I'm going to be taking advantage of this sudden piece of good news. While I'm not a big fan of shelled lobster - to be honest, the huge crustaceans remind me of aquatic cockroaches and the whole lobster dining experience is disturbingly like an alien autopsy - lobster tails and lobster bisque are among my favorites. What's more, with lobster going for a fraction of its former price, this might be the perfect time for a Monty Python recipe that I've always wanted to try: Lobster Thermidor Aux Crevettes with Mornay Sauce, Truffle Pate, Brandy, Fried Egg and Spam. While I'm at it, I'm also keeping an eye on other delicacies; after all, who knows what will drop next?

When I hear the phrase spam and eggs the first thing I usually think of is Monty Python. That's not to say that I haven't ever enjoyed the guilty pleasure of a sandwich of scrambled eggs and Spam. But the much maligned potted meat is more than an occasional meal item in Hawaii, it's an institution.

McDonald's has offered the pinkish mystery meat as part of its breakfast menu in Hawaii for five years. Now its rival Burger King is getting in on the action. The King recently began offering the Spam Platter, which consists of two slabs of Spam, flanked on either side by white rice and scrambled eggs. The Croissanwich or Biscuit Sandwich with Spam have also been added to the menu. I wonder if they've created any ad spots with the King flashing the "hang loose" sign with one hand while digging into a Spam platter with the other.

Web Zen's latest compendium of brain candy is devoted to Spam, both the canned "meat" and junk e-mail. Spamhenge (pictured) comes from a site devoted to the Seventh Annual Spam Scultpure Contest. There's also a link to the Spammobile, Hormel's answer to the Oscar Mayer Wienermobile.

If you're planning a white-trash menu for Thanksgiving this year you may want to look at the link for Spam recipes. It includes such delicacies as cheesy country spam puffs and New Mexican Spam soup. Naturally, Web Zen includes a link to the Spam Haiku Archive. And they'd be remiss if they didn't include a Youtube link to the infamous Monty Python sketch. Note the Japanese subtitles. The non-food related links are pretty cool, too. Especially the one on how to strike back at e-mail scammers.
[via Boing Boing]

To commemorate the opening of the Monty Python musical Spamalot in London, Hormel is unleashing Stinky French Garlic Spam upon the British Isles. I'm not quite sure how I missed it, but the makers of the much-maligned canned meat product, introduced this "collector's edition" tin in the States some two years ago when the show made its New York debut.

Hormel's European arm plans to step up its decidely tongue-in-cheek campaign by sending a tin of Stinky French Garlic Spam to Jacques Chirac. This move is inspired by Chirac's tendency to complain about British chow. It's also a tip of the hat to the scene in Monty Python and the Holy Grail where French soldiers and King Arthur's knights trade insults, notably, "I fart in your general direction."

Although he used to eat spam, Eric Idle (pictured), the musical's creator, hasn't tasted the funky new flavor. He gave up meat more than 30 years ago. Has anyone out there had the, er, pleasure of sampling this Pythonesque product?