If there is one adage I believe to be true, it’s “misery loves company.” I believe that people come together when they endure something tumultuous or when they sit down to eat a good meal. And during the holidays, I’d say that most of us do both. Usually, those things are different from each other, so it balances each other out, but what happens when the difficult circumstance and the meal are the same?
This Thanksgiving season, I tested the limits of familial love by giving them the arduous task of eating the Figgy Pudding Spam: a seasonal Spam flavor that should never have existed.
I'll literally pick up anything that has the words "Limited Edition" on the label.
What is Figgy Pudding?
Before I got the Figgy Pudding Spam gifted to me by a friend (thanks, Jeff), I had no idea what figgy pudding was. The extent of my knowledge was that Christmas song that eventually went “Now give us some figgy pudding, now give us some figgy pudding…” And I hate that song, so I didn’t want to do any research on what they were trying to say.
Like all kids, when I heard the word “pudding” I immediately thought of a sweet, Christmas-themed dessert, and it was only now that I found out that my preconceived notion was utterly wrong. According to the internet, a traditional figgy pudding is meant to be made with suet, which is raw beef or mutton fat, which was a horrifying realization when doing research into why the Spam company announced this amalgamation of horror.
In any case, we can think of figgy pudding as some kind of meat cake. Kinda meaty. Kinda sweet. All forms horrifying.
This is unironically my favorite photo of me taken in the past 10 years.
A Late Night ‘Pudding’ Feast
After we finished our Thanksgiving meal and dessert, I let my family sit down and talk for a few hours before bringing out the can of Spam. With each passing hour, I thought my opportunity was fleeting, but we stayed up for a tad bit too long and got hungry again. And because we are Korean, we decided to cook a few packets of ramen to cap off our night. And what goes perfectly paired with ramen? That’s right. Spam.
I whipped out my can proudly and announced that I was going to pan-fry the Figgy Pudding Spam to accompany our meal (Spam + Ramen is a classic Korean combination), and no one batted an eye. I cut them into thick, patty-like slices, cooked them for about three minutes, and served them to my unsuspecting family. Of course, one thing I couldn’t mask was the smell of the figgy pudding.
If this was regular Spam, it would be perfectly cooked.
If there’s one thing I can say about this particular concoction, it’s that they nailed the “Christmas” smell perfectly. It was as if you burned every Christmas-themed candle at once on the same kitchen island, which is equal parts horrifying and festive.
The Verdict
As I served my family this final Thanksgiving feast, I was met with very worried looks. As if they knew what they were going to eat wasn’t going to satiate their late-night cravings. With a final “Cheers!”, we stabbed the Spam with our forks, clinked them together as if they were champagne glasses, and took our first bite.
… And then one of my cousins immediately spat his out in the trash.
The rest of us… Chewed and swallowed? I don’t think it’s fair to say that we savored the flavors. It was more like we all endured and decided that we weren’t going to go in for a second slice.
I swear you can see each disgusting spice granule.
The flavors were a weird combination of cinnamon, cloves, star anise, and other spices that I would associate with Christmas with the addition of the high-sodium can of Spam. It was like taking all the worst parts of a fruit cake and all the best parts of Spam and delivering them in one neat and disgusting package.
The rest of my family agreed that this was something that they would never try again. And, while I won’t say that I was officially banned from bringing any more food to Thanksgiving gatherings, I will say that I don’t suspect anyone will ask me to bring anything to Thanksgiving ever again. Which might be the best prize of them all.
Final Rating
2/10 -> I can’t possibly fathom why you would want to try this anyways, but I beg of you, please don’t.