Spamming the Universe

There’s more, but you get the idea. Now in its second year, the annual Spam Jamboree attracts hundreds of festival goers--from as far away as New Jersey and California--who eagerly stand in line for the opportunity to eat Spam, the infamous canned luncheon meat made from chopped pork shoulder, ham and spices. If you are reluctant to admit to eating the stuff, you should know that 3.8 cans of Spam are consumed every second (that’s 13,680 cans every hour).

The festival, held this past Saturday, is sponsored by Geo. A. Hormel & Co. And it is about more than just eating Spam. Folks are walking, running and bicycling for Spam. There’s dancing by the Spamettes, songs about Spam, people dressed as cans of Spam, a Spam dunk tank, a Spam basketball toss, even Spam-a-Slam, where, for only a quarter, burly men gather to test their strength.

In this small (population 25,000) southern Minnesota town, where the majority is employed by the meatpacking company, Spam is no laughing matter. Ask people if they eat Spam, and you’ll get an immediate answer: “You betcha.”

Margaret Wiggins, whose husband worked at the Hormel plant for 42 years, was doing her marketing and decided to stop by for a Spamburger. “I didn’t even know it was Spam Days,” she says. Wiggins recounts the story of a friend who had just come back from Hawaii, where she had eaten something called Spam sushi, made from the luncheon meat, cooked rice and seaweed. “When I asked her if she actually ate the seaweed, my friend said she had,” Wiggins says, shaking her head. “I sure hope they washed it first.”

The entrance to Spam Jamboree is flanked by a giant sculpture, sitting impressively on a reflecting pool. A local architect spent hours fashioning his piece after the Washington Memorial, except that his pillar happens to be made entirely from empty Spam cans. As Jennifer Park, a local art curator, discusses the sculpture, passers-by break off a can or two. “They were all glued on this morning,” says Park nonchalantly, ignoring the souvenir hunters. “Then people just started picking them off.”

The members of a Spam Club are here to take part in the Spamburger Eating Contest. In their particular club, Spam stands for “Special People Appreciate Margaritas.” There are no club dues, and the rules are simple: You must eat Spam and drink Margaritas. Members meet once a month at a restaurant--on Tuesdays--because it’s the day the place runs a special on Margaritas. “We are also cheap,” says Spam Club member Doug Knutson.

Contestants are timed eating two Spamburgers, each consisting of a bun, a 3-ounce grilled Spam patty, a slice of tomato, lettuce, American cheese and mayonnaise, washed down with an 8-ounce glass of water. The burgers are quartered for easy eating, and only one hand may be used during the contest. An empty plate and empty glass signifies completion. Knutson thinks his chances at winning are good. “The competition is definitely between the club members,” he says, “and it’s a free lunch.”

It is soon evident that neither Knutson nor any of his fellow Spam club members stand a chance. The winner is Dave Harvey, a 5-foot 7-inch, 220-pound truck driver from Winona, Minn., who had already polished off a box of ‘S’mores cereal just hours before the Spamburger eating contest. It took Harvey barely a minute and four seconds to clean his plate--half the time of the second-place winner. Harvey, a former Haight-Ashbury hippie who has no teeth, enjoys eating his way across America. “In a restaurant in Texas, if you eat the 72-ounce steak dinner, it’s free. I’ve eaten it five times,” he says. “In Illinois they’ve got a four-and-a-half-pound hamburger that’s free if you can eat it in 30 minutes.” Harvey’s eaten four. “Ah, winning is easy,” he says, grinning. “You just got to be hungry and like to eat.”

When it comes to cooking with Spam, some of the recipe contest entries--Spam pop-ups, Tastee & Easee casserole, Spam kraut taters, spam dip--give new meaning to the meat. But contest judge Liz Coughlin, a Spam filler operator at Hormel (she puts Spam into thousands of cans every day), loves them all. Coughlin normally eats a can of Spam a week, but she takes at least a dozen cans of Smoked Spam with her when she visits relatives up north. “Otherwise they have to drive almost 120 miles to get it,” she says.

Hormel secretary Mary Greenman, who won last year with her Polynesian Yum Yum Casserole, once again captured the judge’s attention with Shanghai Spam. Both casseroles, incidentally, contained chow mein noodles (“chow mein noodles travel well,” she says). But Bee Malenke, a retired secretary, was declared the winner for her Spam Swissette casserole. Malenke, whose favorite way to eat Spam is either “in pancakes, on pancakes or around pancakes,” was surprised when she was announced the winner. “I went to the Minnesota State Fair with that recipe and bombed out,” she exclaims. When asked if she was going to go out and celebrate with her $200 winnings, Malenke replied: “Oh no, we are going to take the rest of the casserole home and have it for dinner.”

BEE MALENKE’S SPAM SWISSETTE

1 (12-ounce) can Spam Lite luncheon meat

3 tablespoons margarine

1/3 cup onion, chopped fine

1/2 (10 3/4-ounce) can cream of mushroom soup

1/2 (5-ounce) can evaporated milk

1 (4-ounce) can mushroom pieces

1/4 cup Swiss cheese, shredded

1/2 cup American cheese, shredded

Dill

Pimiento

Green onions, chopped

Cut Spam into 6 slices and set aside.

Melt margarine in 12-inch skillet, add onion and saute. Add mushroom soup, milk, mushroom pieces, Swiss and American cheeses and simmer until cheese melts. Add Spam slices and cook until hot. Garnish with dill, pimiento and green onions. Makes 2 to 3 servings.