Summer in Hawaii ... Spam on the grill
My friend Richie from up the street stopped by last weekend with two cans of Spam (not Spam Lite but Spam Classic, what Darrell calls Spam Heavy) and six adult beverages (already chilled).
I had no choice but to fire up the grill, and the rice cooker. Richie, who knows where the sharpest knife is in the kitchen, attacked the romaine lettuce he found in the fridge, and pulled out the Costco jumbo size Ranch dressing, while I popped open the Spam and began slicing. Could lunch be far behind?
It was while we're standing at the grill that Richie comes up with this idea for a new book. "How about a cookbook that's nothing but Spam recipes? We'll be rich!" Richie has this big grin, already planning ways to spend the money from his brilliant new book.
"I hate to be the one to break this to you," I say, "but ..."
"Break what?" The big grin begins to fade.
"There are already a bunch of Spam cookbooks," I tell him. "Including some that are just Hawaii recipes."
"No way," Richie says.
"Way," I tell him. I put my hand on his shoulder to comfort him while his big dream flies away, heading makai, soaring over Waikiki and out to sea. "Look it up on Amazon."
filet of Spam
Richie is silent. He stands there and watches the filets of Spam sizzling on the grill. While I turn the Spam with tongs I notice Richie biting his lower lip. Then he makes a fist with his right hand and begins punching his left palm. I keep one eye on him and one on the Spam. Then he throws his hands into the air and yells "Yes! Yes!" The wild look is back.
"Yes what?"
"We'll do a Spam cookbook that's just about grilling Spam. No fried Spam. No stupid Spam salad. Just grilled Spam." He looks at me to see if I'm going to pop this bubble too.
"This could work," I say. "It's going to be a really thin cookbook though."
"No, no, no," Richie says. "I know what we'll do. We'll buy one of the regular Spam cookbooks and see how many of those recipes we can use with grilled Spam."
"Hold on," I say, "some of these are done. Hold the tray for me." I remove the slices that have reached that precise rich dark color. I grill by color.
We each grab a hot Spam slice from the plate and take a bite. Then we have some more cold beer. A gourmet moment.
"We'll have to test all the recipes," Richie says. "And invent some new ones."
"This could take all summer," I say. "That's a lot of Spam."
"Oh yeah. Spam Kabobs. Grilled Spam lau lau. Spam musubi." Richie is dreaming the big dreams now. Seeing visions of summer feasts. "Beer battered Spam on the grill. Rotisserie Spam. Grilled Spam pizza."
Soon we are settled into the living room, watching baseball, opening another beer, eating grilled Spam and rice and Richie's machete romaine salad. We have most of the basic food groups covered. Ice cream later for dairy.
I ask Richie what we should call our new Spam cookbook. He suggests Richie's Gourmet Grilled Spam Cookbook. I throw out 100 Things You Can Make With Spam and a Grill. Richie finally comes up with the winner: Mastering the Art of Grilled Spam. Now there's a classy title. Grilled Spam and an homage to Julia Child. I close my eyes and imagine another book: Richie and Julia. And the film version, of course. We know Meryl Streep is perfect as Julia, but who's going to play Richie?
Tags: Julia Child, Meryl Streep, Spam
