Often considered food for a post-apocalyptic diet, SPAM holds a special place not only in the pantries of the future but in pantries past. Making its debut in 1937 toward the end of the Great Depression, SPAM was at once just another ambiguous pink brick trying to distinguish itself from other potted meat on the shelves. Determined to make a superior potted meat, inventor Jay Hormel used pork shoulder and ham while his competitors included lips, snouts, and ears in their tin pots. These were hard times, but Hormel would not sacrifice vacuum-sealable flavor or quality.
By 1940, SPAM aired its first commercial over the radio, which Hormel’s website claims to be the “first singing commercial,” though Wheaties might beg to differ. The lyrics went like this, to the tune of “My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean,” so you can sing along:
SPAM, SPAM, SPAM, SPAM,
Hormel’s new ‘Miracle Meat’ in a can.
Tastes fine,
Saves time,
If you want something grand,
Ask for SPAM.
Because it doesn’t require refrigeration and can last for years, SPAM is “like meat with a pause button,” according to the company. Ah, how this adds greater depth to that “saves time” lyric.
During World War II, Hormel really stepped up its game, supplying more than 100 million pounds of SPAM abroad to allied troops. In a letter to the company, President Eisenhower even praised the product for its effectiveness. This letter is prominently displayed alongside images of Slammin’ Spammy, the WWII missile-launching mascot, in the Spam Museum in Austin, Minnesota. Want more inches of “pure pork fun”? The Spam Museum features a Cyberdiner, a ‘50s-style diner with internet-connected computers logged into the product site, where you can find out about SPAM’s history — rather than at the museum you’re standing inside.
In 1945, SPAM introduced The Hormel Girls, a 60-member all-lady performing troupe that toured the country singing Christmas songs on the radio, instructing listeners on dainty ways of serving ham, and insisting that “cold or hot, SPAM hits the spot.” After the war, SPAM remained popular in many parts of the world where troops were stationed. Hawaii, a major consumer of SPAM, boasts it as “Hawaiian soul food,” and every spring, they celebrate with a festival of the meat. SPAM Jam, held in Waikiki, is so popular that guests needing hotel accommodations can get a free room upgrade at a nearby hotel with the donation of a can of SPAM for the Hawaii Foodbank.
In Austin, MN aka Spamtown, USA, where Hormel produces the meat, the original SPAM Jam festival takes place during the week of the 4th of July. A time when most of the country is decked out in red, white, and blue, Spamtown, USA opts for the much more emblematic blue and yellow. Formerly known as Cedar River Days, SPAM Jam goes off with softball games, treasure hunts, relay races, and fishing contests. The Austin Chamber of Commerce changed the festival name from the quaint “Cedar River Days” in 1987 to mark the product’s 50th anniversary, and, it seems, as part of an aggressive marketing strategy.In 1991, the SPAM marketing machine pushed forward, introducing SPAM merch for canned meat fanatics and people who have a personal relationship with the product, or at least appreciate the kitsch. Also celebrating/poking fun at the gelatinous loaf are cookbooks, books of poetry, and even existential musings: “I’m pink, therefore I’m spam.” Monty Python first recognized the kookiness of the ubiquitous product when they spoofed it in a sketch where the actors tried ordering from a menu that included SPAM in every meal; thus coining the concept of spamming. SPAM gets its name from a mash-up of spiced ham; shoulder of pork and ham would also be a fitting portmanteau. And what’s in SPAM? It’s still just a ham and shoulder of pork combo with sugar, salt, water, and potato starch added as the “spiced” parts, and just the right amount of sodium nitrite to keep that penicillin hue.
In 2007, when the product celebrated its 70th anniversary, the company released a special limited-edition can as well as what they call “crazy tasty” SPAM singles. Since then, the marketing department’s been going hard with a SPAMmobile, promises of a blue and yellow world, hot dogs, and a Twitter persona, @RealSPAMMYCan, a self-realizing can of meat who climbs trees and likes to #FF himself.
SPAM, always beloved for their tongue-in-cheek (and shoulder and thigh) approach to their product, will probably outlast us all.
Photo: Arnold Gatilao
