July 5 marks the 80th anniversary of Spam, the canned lunchmeat known the world over and produced right here in Minnesota.
The creme de la creme of processed pork was known early on as "The Meat of Many Uses!" But it got off to a rocky start when servicemembers in World War II got sick of being served three meals a day of an inferior product dripping in "loose juice," and started sending hate mail to parent company Hormel Foods Corp.
The company's president, Jay Hormel, kept these angry letters in something he called the "Scurrilous File," and the whole matter got him kind of depressed.
A 1945 article in the New Yorker has him ruminating over the blue-tinned lunchmeat's bad reputation.
"Mr. Hormel toyed with his drink for a moment, then went on ... 'We didn't even get around to putting Spam on the market until 1937 ... Sometimes I wonder if we shouldn't have' ... Mr. Hormel didn't finish the sentence. We got the distinct impression that being responsible for Spam might be too great a burden for any one man. 'It's all right,' he said defensively in a moment. 'Damn it, we eat it in our own home.'"
My, how things turned around.
In 2012, Spam sold its 8 billionth can. It's available in 44 countries. Its packaging is on display at the Smithsonian. In Hawaii, it's basically caviar.
In Austin, Minn., Spam's world headquarters, a new museum opened last year with 14,000 square feet of interactive galleries devoted to the spongy pink loaf. (On Friday, the town will celebrate Spam's birthday with a block party.)
But perhaps there was no greater glory for Spam than the 1960s, when cooks took this spiced processed pork to a whole other level.