I have a faint recollection of eating Spam when I was a kid. I know that my mom bought it once in a while, but I tried it a while back and I don't think it's something I would try again (that film on top...gah). I think the only way I would try it is if it's in a recipe where it's cooked a lot or smothered with other flavors.

Like the recipe after the jump. It's for Spaghetti Carbonara and it comes courtesy of spamrecipes.net.

I love Japanese food. And I love Monty Python. But the two can never blend.

So when one blogger sent a URL describing Spam onigiri, I naturally launched into Monty Python's immortal "Spam Sketch" (Spam! Spam! Spam! Spam!....) while simultaneously dreaming about the taste of those glorious triangles of rice Japanese eat for lunch...until I stopped short.

I have never understood why there could even be a debate about Spam, but taking my own family as an example, I suppose it should be expected. My family is divided. My Mom and I can't stand the sight or smell of what looks like, well, Spam. Dad and sisters, on the other hand, absolutely love the stuff, and in fact, will do what I consider an act of utter I-don't-know-what, eat Spam "raw," straight out of the can.

I am absolutely intrigued that there has to be a sizeable enough contingent of Spam-lovers that almost 6 billion cans of the processed meat have been produced since its introduction into the world. Inspired by an article by Brad Schleicher and Stephanie Shapiro in the Baltimore Sun last week, I wondered, "Do people who claim to like Spam really like how it tastes? What is it about the stuff that is so appealing? Or even a little bit appealing?"

Schleicher says he loves it. In fact, he describes his first childhood memory of it: "I loved the strong aroma, the rich flavor and the smooth and creamy texture. That moment for me was a lot like the one most kids experience eating their first ice-cream sundaes, except that my food wasn't a sundae. It happened to be cold processed ham and pork."

On the other (more sensible, in my opinion) hand, Shapiro hates Spam. She says, ""Spam was the color of the 1950s: preternaturally pink, a slightly speckled flesh tone shared by Caucasians and pigs. When fried, Spam acquired an even more unfortunate hue, kind of like a radioactive tongue."

So I ask you, dear Slashfood readers, about Spam. Do you love it? Or, do you, like me, hate it?

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.

Meatpaper is the self-proclaimed "journal of meat culture," and judging from what's up at their site, they're correct.

The site is filled with several articles on the "arts and ideas about meat," including pieces about the dry-aging room at New York's Master Purveyors, pig slaughter in Italy, why Filipinos eat Spam, and getting over the guilt of eating meat. There are also links to various food blogs.

The site itself says that they "like metaphors more than marinating tips," which I take as an indication that they're going to be talking about the world of food and not recipes and kitchen advice. They're taking subscriptions now, so you might want to check it out.

The idea behind most food websites, food blogs included, is to write about good food. Good recipes, excellent restaurants and tasty products are among the things frequently written up on these sites. Wild Recipes has a slightly different goal, however. The site is dedicated to the weirdest, most outrageous - by which they usually mean disgusting - foods that people actually eat.

Old fashioned scrapple, Rocky Mountain oysters, head cheese and brains are all included on the site, but there are far stranger dishes than the ones that simply involve cooking the less appetizing bits of animals. For example, how would you feel about a Spam milkshake (pictured) with anchovies, mustard and beer? Or would you be likely to put a few slices of Cheddar cheese in your morning coffee then "slurp down the glob of melted cheese" once you've finished off the liquid? Granted, the cheese coffee is unappealing in a way that is different from the "oysters," but that doesn't make it any less disgusting.

Most of the entries have recipes should you be so inclined to try them and there are seven pages of dishes to choose from, and just about all of them are accompanied by a story describing how the submitter first came across the dish.

[via neatorama]

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?

Gmail got a little inspiration from all of those spam e-mails and created their spam recipe folder, offering up hundreds, perhaps thousands, of span recipes. They don't take into account the content of those e-mails, which as we all know, seems to be about viagra more than half the time. The recipes get a little more inventive if you consider their contents and start making viagra-themed spam recipes. Whether you actually want to attempt any of them is a matter of personal preference, but a giant viagra mousse (above) or some dyed-blue spam tempura in the little blue pill's signature diamond shape would probably be a hit at parties whether people actually opted to taste them or not.

And you might want to pick up some viagra gelato for dessert, too.

Back in middle school, I think one of the first poems I ever wrote was a rhyming little ditty about Spam. Lucky for you, I have no idea where that little gem went. What I do know is that The Spam-Ku Archive has nearly 20,000 haiku (and other assorted verse, and a book) dedicated to that most beloved meaty little block.

Some are poignant:
Empathize with them
Cut your finger on SPAM top
Pigs must feel that too

Others are just plain weird:
Freezing midwinter
The warmest thing you can wear?
Jacket made of SPAM

My pending entry:
Hurricane supplies
The loneliest can of all
Eat some more tuna.