BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

This blog is really about nothing. This is not to say that any of my previous blogs have been about something, however, this particular running off at the keys is pretty much about more nothing than any of the previous nothings… Or somethings… Or nothi-somethings… Well, you get the idea.

As the title suggests, it is about the ever important PB&J. Yes. The iconic peanut butter and jelly sammich.

Now, as sammiches go, the PB&J is just about the closest you can get to the land of childhood comfort foods. At least, for my generation it is.

You see, while we tail-end baby boomers (Yeah, I was born in the last year of what qualifies as the baby-boomer generation) never dealt with anything quite like the depression, we DID see a horrendous recession. We remember only being able to buy gas on Sundays. We remember hamburger being a luxury, and steak a far out dream affordable only to the elite… And, yeah, we even remember when the expression “Far Out” was cool… Along with other hallmarks of the era such as “cool”, “keep on truckin'”, and “lid” (not that I was ever…ahem…intimately associated with what a “lid” actually was… ummm… ahem… that’s my story and I’m sticking to it…) Of course, there I go digressing again…

My point is, back then, money was tight. When the company for which my father worked at the time went on an extended strike (read several months) money got even tighter. Dad was against the strike, but he walked the line for strike pay, and picked up other work where he could so that food stayed on the table and bills got paid. Mom worked too. It was the beginning of a different era – two parents, both with jobs. Life was changing drastically.

So, with money tight – and at times non-existent – even the truly wonderful childhood memory of the fried bologna sammich was relegated to specific occasions. Yes, SPAM/Treet, and fried bologna were more often than not a staple on the supper table. Don’t get me wrong. Mom and Dad made sure we ate, and ate as healthy as we possibly could. We kept a garden and had fresh vegetables. But, it wasn’t at all unusual for the aforementioned processed animal parts to be the center of our entree on the supper table. And, to set the record straight, let’s remember that I happen to like SPAM/Treet and Bologna, so I wasn’t complaining. Still, I also like turkey, steak, fish, etc…

But, back to the PB&J. That particular sammich became the common lunch. Not just because it was something kids would gladly eat – well, most kids anyway – but because it was cheap and relatively nourishing. You could get a large jar of Peanut Butter (actually a legume, not a nut, for those keeping score), a loaf of bread, and jar of jelly for next to nothing. Even better for us was the fact that we had fruit trees and grape vines in our back yard, so Mom made jelly and put it up, further reducing the overall cost.

There you had it – Cheap, full of protein, and even a handful of vitamins. Yes, a dab of sugar too, but hey, we were kids…

So…why all this sudden nostalgia? Simple. I just had myself a PB&J while standing over the sink and thinking about where my current manuscript is heading plotwise. Unfortunately, Mom and Dad are both gone, and I have no homemade jelly or preserves, but I made do with the storebought kind.

Of course, being an old guy who tries to be health conscious, the jelly was low sugar and the bread was whole grain instead of the “too soft” white bread with a bunny on the package that had been the staple in my youth… But, it still had the same effect, and it transported me back to my childhood.

As I stood there eating it, however, one other thing came to mind… The fact that our economy is crashing like a 1 year old who is just learning to walk, and now in my late forties I am witnessing the same things I saw when I was in my single and early double digits. Maybe even worse…

Up to, and including a PB&J for lunch…

I guess my daughter will get to tell this same story years from now… For my money, that’s a damn shame.

More to come…

Murv

Nope. Not the electronic kind.

I’m talking about SPAM™ …Actually, since SPAM™ is ridiculously expensive (something like $3.29 a can… Probably due to the popularity of its name) I opt for TREET™ … Different company, same kind of can, same rectangular hunk of pressed pork leavin’s. And, it’s only 99¢ per can. Gotta love that.

Why? It means I can get three times as much of it.

Now here is the thing about SPAM™/TREET™/TRAM©/SPEET©. I love the stuff. Don’t know why. I mean, I definitely didn’t come from a well to do family, so I ate more than my share of the meat-like schtuff as a kid. Along with Vienna Sausages, which I also love. And, well, our psyche’s do tend to rebel and we normally eschew that which reminds us of harder times. But, the psuedo Virginia ham-like goodness of these canned pork leavin’s don’t really conjure a bad memory for me. In fact, it is more like a comfort food. It makes me remember a time when my family was still around – you see, with the exception of my sister and a few distant relatives, my ancestral family is gone. So, at this semi-advanced stage in my life I am a bit nostalgic. Therefore, I am all about things that remind me of better times, even if we were dirt poor and the times didn’t seem “better” when they were happening. Now, looking back on them, they seem like the best of times. But, that is the way with nostalgia, so who am I to complain?

Now, there are tons of ways to serve TREET™/SPAM™… Dice it up in some scrambled eggs. BBQ it. Roast it on a stick at a camp out. Hey, I’ve even diced it up and added it to homemade lentil soup. This stuff is so friggin’ versatile, I could go on forever. The possibilities are that endless.

However, I’ll stick to a single recipe…One of my favorite ways to enjoy these pressed and potted pork renderings is to slice the block into 1/2 inch thick slabs, sear ’em real quick in a hot skillet, then place a couple between two pieces of wheat bread with a slice of real American cheese. Now that, my friends, is good eatin’.

Okay, so I know you are wondering why I am devoting an entire blog entry to SPAM™/TREET™/TRAM©/SPEET©. Well, it’s simple really.

I love it. My wife and kid, not so much. The kid turns her nose up. My wife, on the other hand, will eat it if it is the only option and she’s really, really hungry. But, usually, she likes to point out that she doesn’t like it. Lately, she has even been on a kick of telling me that it is “bad for me”…

So, step forward in time a bit…I was having a potted-pressed-rendered-pork-leavin’s sammich just the other day. I was really enjoying it. The Evil Redhead proceeded to ask in a somewhat accusatory tone, “Do you realize how much saturated fat that stuff has in it?”

Honestly, I didn’t. So, I checked the can.

About 4g saturated fat and 6g of protein per serving (which is what I was having – 1 serving) 3g of carbohydrates in the form of sugars. It was about 130 calories, not counting the bread and cheese. Now, I will grant you, the entire fat content of a serving is 11g, but not all fat is bad. In fact, our bodies require it to function. And remember, only 4 of the 11 grams were saturated, which is the bad kind.

Now, the interesting thing about this is that when she asked the question, she was enjoying a serving of Strawberry Milkshake Flavored Malted Milk Balls.

Out of curiosity, I checked the box.

Her single serving was 180 calories, had 8g of saturated fat, 31g of carbohydrates (26 of which were in the form of sugar) and 1 whole gram of protein.

She was slightly stunned…

Based on what I was reading, her snack was worse for her than mine was for me. Not to mention, mine actually had significant nutritional value, whereas hers had next to none. I was also going to no longer be hungry. Her, probably not so much.

Of course, EK is about as big around as a stick, and her family is predisposed to live to 100 without any heart or artery disease, so the not so nutritional value of the malted milk balls probably didn’t hurt her one iota. But, hey, that’s not the point…We’re talking nutrition here…

You know, I think I’ll take the pork leavin’s over the candy.

More to come…

Murv