When Was the Last Time Brits Cooked With SPAM?

Britain hasn’t forgotten what SPAM is, has it? But perhaps we’ve forgotten what we can do with it and why cooked right, it’s deliciously tasty.

Walk down the tinned-meat aisle of almost any sizeable British supermarket and there it is.

That familiar tin of SPAM.

Most of us know what it is. Many will have eaten it at some point – maybe just raw. Some will associate it with parents or grandparents, wartime Britain, school dinners or the infamous SPAM fritter.

But here’s a rather different question:

When was the last time you actually cooked with it and made something different?

Not simply ate it. Cooked with it.

Because recently, I did — and it has made me wonder whether Britain has overlooked just how versatile this famous little tin can be.

I’ve done Burger, Omelette, Rice Bowls, and will be exploring Noodle Soups and even SPAM NUGGET DIPPERS…

From Britain to Okinawa – Their Obsession with SPAM

My renewed interest in SPAM came from an unlikely source: Okinawa, Japan.

I’ve been researching Okinawa ahead of a possible trip there and became fascinated by the place, its culture and, inevitably, its food.

Okinawa is famous for many things. Karate originated there. The islands have a distinctive culture reflecting their Ryukyuan history. Okinawa is also one of the places historically associated with the world’s so-called Blue Zones and exceptional longevity.

And then there’s SPAM.

The popularity of canned pork in Okinawa has strong links to the American military presence during and following the Second World War. But what is particularly interesting is what happened afterwards.

Okinawans didn’t simply eat an American product.

They incorporated canned pork into their own evolving food culture. And today, it’s a living merchandise with SPAM tee shirts, bags, gift souvenirs and anything else that can be branded with the label.

Today you’ll encounter it in dishes such as pork and egg combinations and chanpurū-style stir-fries. And while watching videos about food in Okinawa, I came across something that really caught my attention: golden, crispy fried pieces of SPAM being sold as street food.

Essentially, SPAM had become something resembling a crispy nugget or finger.

And I thought: Why aren’t we doing more of this in Britain?

Britain knows SPAM — but do we still cook with it?

That’s what interests me.

SPAM isn’t some newly discovered ingredient. Britain has known it for generations.

It hasn’t disappeared either. You can still walk into supermarkets and find it sitting on the shelf – albeit rather lonely, I would say…

Yet culturally, it sometimes feels as though SPAM belongs more to Britain’s culinary past than its present.

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the world, cooks have continued treating canned pork as something to fry, glaze, combine with rice, put into noodle dishes and generally experiment with.

Perhaps the problem isn’t necessarily SPAM. Perhaps it’s the image the WEST have of it.

Perhaps we’ve simply stopped asking what we can do with it.

So I started cooking and seeing how far you can go with SPAM

I didn’t want to write about SPAM purely from nostalgia or from things I’d seen other people cooking.

I’ve been cooking with it myself.

And that matters, because my opinion of the ingredient now comes from actually putting it into the pan, experimenting with it and eating the results.

One of my first experiments was a SPAM burger.

I fried the SPAM until it developed those wonderful browned, slightly crispy edges and built it into a burger.

My verdict?

It was bloody tasty.

Next came crispy teriyaki-style SPAM.

Again, the transformation that takes place when SPAM hits a hot pan is what interested me. The outside caramelises and crisps while the inside remains soft and savoury. Add a sticky teriyaki-style glaze and suddenly that familiar piece of canned meat feels like a completely different ingredient.

That was delicious too.

And I’m not finished.

I’ve been developing ideas for a SPAM noodle bowl with vegetables, chilli and sauce, while those Okinawan-style crispy SPAM pieces have inspired another experiment: Golden SPAM Nuggets. I saw that on a video on YOUTUBE and thought, why can’t Britain pick up and dip the SPAM nuggets?

Cut it. Coat it. Fry it.

Then comes another rabbit hole entirely: what sauce do you serve alongside them?

Sweet chilli? BBQ? Teriyaki? Curry? Garlic and chilli? Spicy tomato?

The possibilities begin multiplying surprisingly quickly.

I’m not pretending it’s health food

There is an obvious point that shouldn’t be ignored.

SPAM is processed meat. It’s relatively high in salt and fat, and I’m certainly not suggesting anybody should start eating it every day.

But that’s not really my argument.

Plenty of foods we enjoy aren’t things we’d necessarily choose to eat seven days a week.

My argument is much simpler:

SPAM doesn’t have to be an everyday food to be a very enjoyable food.

And having now cooked with it myself in several different ways, I can say something I wouldn’t have been able to say simply by staring at the tin on a supermarket shelf:

Cooked properly, it can be delicious.

The forgotten fast food?

There’s another reason I’ve started looking at SPAM differently.

It’s extraordinarily convenient.

Open the tin. Slice it. Put it into a hot pan.

Within minutes you’ve got the foundation of a meal.

You can put it into a burger. Serve it with rice. Glaze it. Add it to noodles. Put it into a curry. Coat and fry it. Combine it with eggs and vegetables.

In an age obsessed with fast food, perhaps we’ve overlooked one of the original convenience foods sitting quietly in our own cupboards.

That leads me to a slightly provocative question:

Could SPAM be Britain’s forgotten king of fast food?

I’m not suggesting it’s about to replace the burger chains.

I’m suggesting we’ve perhaps forgotten what an extraordinarily adaptable ingredient it is.

One tin. Endless possibilities.

That’s what my own cooking experiments have taught me.

I started looking at SPAM because I was curious about its place in Okinawan food culture.

I ended up rediscovering an ingredient.

And I’m only beginning to experiment with it.

The burger worked.

The crispy teriyaki SPAM worked.

The noodle bowl is coming.

The Golden SPAM Nuggets are coming.

There will undoubtedly be experiments that don’t work as well — and those are worth talking about too.

Because this isn’t really about convincing everybody that they should love SPAM.

It’s about encouraging people to look again at something familiar.

So next time you walk past that unmistakable tin on a supermarket shelf, perhaps don’t ask yourself whether you remember SPAM.

Ask yourself something else.

When was the last time you cooked with it?

And perhaps more importantly:

What would you cook with it now?

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THE WOK UNDERDOG SPAM EXPERIMENT

Already cooked:
SPAM Burger
Crispy Teriyaki-Style SPAM

Coming next:
SPAM Noodle Bowl
Golden SPAM Nuggets

The mission: Rediscover the possibilities of one of Britain’s most familiar — and perhaps most underestimated — tins.

TIP IT. FRY IT. SERVE IT.