Musabi: My Canadian Epiphany.

When I grew up, Spam was the food you ate when you were out of food.

This may be because my mother had no idea how to cook and trusted dubious sources.

We lived a long way from anywhere, so we always had spam or the many "budget" alternatives in the pantry, but she never learned to really use it, because "that was for emergencies."

As I grew up, I picked up a rather snobby attitude toward the pink mystery meat, and for the longest time, I avoided it. But then I got a rice cooker and decided that I wanted to learn how to roll sushi, because I freaking love sushi rolls. It looks so quick and easy on Iron Chef. How hard could it be?

Sticky. Rice. Everywhere.

It's not that hard, but there are there are tricks to it that you need to practice before you end up with anything you'd admit to having made.

I figured I needed a protein to go into it, something I could cut into long thin pieces and which didn't cost a fortune. It needed to be something that just shuts up and lies there. So... spam.

When I bragged of my achievement - when I made an unaccountably delicious roll that didn't actually explode all over my kitchen - the response was "oh, you made a spam Musabi roll."

Wait, that's a thing?

And once again, there's always spam in my pantry. Because once again, I live a long way from nowhere in particular, and it keeps. But it's not for emergencies. It's comfort food, to be made on the Days of Indulgence, when we have been Very Good.