One of my guilty pleasures is luncheon meat. As a child, my mother would sometimes serve me Spam sandwiches as an after-school snack. Just fried slices of Spam in between two slices of white bread. In the army, fried slices of luncheon meat were a frequent and not unwelcome option, served with rice, with noodles, and well, with just about whatever they were dishing out each day. I was thrilled to discover, after moving into a new office, that a coffee shop around the corner offers luncheon meat sandwiches as a breakfast option. But the best incarnation of luncheon meat that I have ever come across, and I’m damn upset I’ve only discovered this recently, is Spam fries.
Yup, luncheon meat chopped up into long skinny fries, fried until they’re crispy on the outside, and served with one or more dips. Disgustingly, sinfully, ridicously good. I had these with some friends one night over drinks at Wild Oats, the bar owned and run by Willin Low, and I just about fell off my chair. Within minutes of them being served–Willin serves his with a Kaffir Mayo–all conversation came to halt. When it finally started again, all we could talk about were these amazing fries, about how great they were, how unhealthy they were, how they revived childhood memories, how we really shouldn’t eat more than a just a couple, but damn, weren’t they just addictive.