I like Spam! I know not everyone likes it; in fact I've read that some think it's nasty. The ingredients say it's made from pork, with ham and chicken. My biggest concern is the amount of sodium it contains. But give me a day of working past lunch time, with nothing cooked, and a Spam sandwich hits the spot, of course with a serving of cold pork and beans. Yuck! you say?
I guess my taste for these two things goes all the way back to when our family worked in the peach orchards and packing shed. We had no electricity, therefore no refrigeration to keep anything cold. Mama would get up very early, milk the cow, cook breakfast and then hurry to fix something for our lunch to take with us. Sometimes she fried potatoes which were cold by noon, but they were so good; I still like cold fried potatoes. The Spam and pork and beans were something that could be packed and opened at mealtime. Back in those days, Spam didn't come in an aluminum can with a pop off lid, but rather a tin can that was opened with a little key which was attached to the bottom of the can. There was a small tab on the upper side of the can and the key was used to wind around the can so the lid could be removed. My cousin and I had quite a collection of those keys to play with. If work in the packing shed ran into the night, my cousin and I were sent down the hill to the little country store to buy some bologna or some such sandwich meat.
I've thought a lot about the kinds of meat we had to eat back then. There was always ham, sausage, bacon and tenderloin to eat in the winter, but by spring what was left was beginning to taste rancid. Mama canned some of the fresh meat using her pressure cooker, so that must have been what carried us over until we could have chicken. She always put eggs under setting hens, but it took several weeks before any of the chickens were large enough to eat. Now we grow chickens in seven weeks that can weigh over seven pounds, but they have feed before them all the time; hillside chicks were only fed once a day and then had to scratch for whatever they could find. The pulley bone was always my favorite piece and I can remember how small it was.
We never had beef, with the exception of an occasional hamburger in town. Now and then we might have fish caught from the creek, but were always warned of the danger of getting bones in our throats. If there was a special get-together of Mama's folks, she would buy a can of mackerel (fish) and make fried patties from it.
But you know, I don't ever remember going hungry.
Think about it,