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I live in Spamtown, home of Spam.Doug
On breaks, sometimes I would wander into where they were making SPAM and, before cooking in the huge Stork cookers, it was a kind of paste. It smelled heavenly in there. A kind of spicy, ham, aroma.
SPAM... ugh... Dad was a big fan, but he spent six years in the Navy which IMO completely corrupted his palate. Some of his Navy-derived cooking ideas were so bad the dog refused them, one of which was a SPAM and cheese soup casserole that we kids dubbed "Cheese Yuck". You should'a seen him massacre a perfectly good steak into shoe leather.