Throwback of the House: Bid Summer Farewell with Ham-Peach Barbecue
|Todd Ehlers, Wikimedia Commons|
The best barbecue's fast and zippy, right?
Spam needs jelly as badly as barbecue sauce needs crushed saltines.
My husband never ceases to stun me with his ability to stomach canned meat. He scrapped off the peaches and sauce, because they make Spam gross, and ate so much jelly-coated Spam that his tongue completely dried out within an hour.
Next time they go on an unauthorized walkabout, instead of running around the neighborhood in my pajamas, screaming, "Chloe! Murphy! Goddamn it, you morons! Get back here so I can kill you!" I'm going to pop some Spam in the oven, open the windows and wait. Oh, they'll be back.
My husband said that the dogs' monthly meat-flavored heart worm medication has a more realistic meat texture than Spam. No, I don't want to know how he knows this.
Tonight, I'm making ribs and not sharing with him or the dogs. Any creature that has danced in my kitchen because of the presence of Spam doesn't get to have nice things.
Robin Wheeler writes the blog Poppy Mom. After years of making and eating fancy food, Robin is sick of it all. She's returning to the basics: recipes that haven't surfaced in three decades. She reports on the results for Gut Check every Monday.