Appreciating the underappreciated

Growing up somewhere other than the United States can sometimes give a person a really unconventional appreciation of certain American foods.

Case in point: I love bologna. I really enjoy it. I think it stems from the fact that while normal ham became a regular part of the Japanese supermarket scene before I was born, bologna took a little while longer. Nevermind that it's probably--in fact, most certainly--made of the dregs of meat processing. In elementary school, I would look forward to the days when my mom would pack me a lunch with bologna sandwiches. (Lest you think that my mom didn't put the usual Japanese mother's Herculean efforts into her children's lunches, I want to make it known that the vast majority of my noontime meals consisted of beautifully packaged rice or riceballs with an average of about four different miniature entrees and sidedishes cooked fresh each morning. All in a pretty little bi-level lunchbox with a matching chopstick-and-fork set.) At the neighborhood supermarket, I'd get really excited when my mom would stop by the butcher's corner and ask for some bologna. And yes, it was sold by the butcher like it was classy or something. Because of such cultural indoctrination as a child, to this day, a regular ol' cheese and bologna sandwich tastes sublime.

Another example is Spam. (Shout-out to older members of Out of the Blue who had to listen to me sing Save Ferris' tribute to this canned food during Rush 2002.) Anyone who has ever been to Hawai'i and stepped into a Japanese convenience store there knows that onigiri, or balls of rice wrapped up in seaweed with a small treasure of filling in the middle, are ubiquitous. My mom--as always drawing her culinary inspiration from the many places she flew to as a stewardess for Pan Am back in the day--one day came upon this Spam-and-rice creation, and adventurously gave it a shot. Delicious! The greasiness of the filling is countered by the bite-size portion. Like the more traditional roasted salmon or fishroe filling found in onigiri, Spam's high salt content is balanced by the plain white rice and unflavored seaweed. It's really quite scrumptuous. If you think I'm crazy, check out these other websites where people extoll the tastiness of Spam musubi and its history on Hawai'i.

With that, I think I'm going to go raid the fridge and make me a nice bologna sandwich. And I highly recommend you give the Hawaiian twist on Spam a try. It just might be the cultural paradigm shift you need to fully appreciate an oft-scorned foodstuff.