ZUG’s Tinned Meat Taste Test Part 3: Snail Fail A comedy article
by syncope 49,019 14 08/23/2008 01:11 AM 1373 views
My assignment: to sample the world's most disgusting tinned meats, then report my findings so that ZUG readers could make smart buying decisions when stockpiling meats for their fallout shelters. In Part 1 and Part 2, I tasted everything from Spam to canned ham. In my final installment, I found what I had been looking for, and immediately regretted ever looking in the first place.
TINNED MEAT TASTE TEST #4: CORNED BEEF HASH
When I mentioned to a friend of mine I was doing this experiment she suggested Corned Beef Hash, saying it was "easily the tastiest canned meat." I think she was counting on me cooking it.
I was a little nervous about eating this stuff raw, as the ingredients list both "beef" and "cooked beef," but I had to press on in the name of comedy science. Besides I figured there'd be enough salt in there to kill anything really dangerous.
Two words: dog food. As soon as I opened the can, I got that pungent wet dog food odor of heavy beef stock and low grade meat. Even compared to the others, it was above and beyond foul.
SMELL: 1/10 ("This probably shouldn't be eaten by people.")
This stuff was by far the worst looking of the lot, as the beef had taken a browner-than-expected color from the juice at the bottom of the can and the pale diced potatoes jutted out like overripe pimples. It slid all too easily from the can with a quiet "thwuck" onto the plate, remaining in its original shape. Still, it didn't look like pink pudding or tiny genitalia.
APPEARANCE: 4/10 ("Shut the blinds. I don't want people seeing this.")
It was time to dig in. I took a heaping forkful and unfortunately didn't get to snap a picture because I literally retched in my trash can. I don't know if it was the culmination of all the Shakespearety meat, but this was absolute overload. Again there was the horrible gritty texture, but this one was punctuated with soft, doughy landmines of potato.
I've had Corned Beef Hash cooked, and it was alright. It made me feel like I was in a Steinbeck novel, but it didn't taste bad. Straight out of the can, though, is not an option.
TASTE: 1/10 ("That's going to take more than one pull of bourbon.")
TINNED MEAT TASTE TEST #5: CANNED SNAILS
"There's no way in hell you want to eat me," this can seemed to say, "but we both know you're going to."
I had never eaten snails before. I don't begrudge people who do eat them, I just think they're disgusting. I also knew, via basic canned food mathematics (food + can = tastiness) that starting with canned product would give me just about the worst possible snail-eating experience.
Judging by the dust on the can, everyone else in Los Angeles shared my view.
Upon opening the can, I was confronted with a stench heretofore unheard of in relation to food. I was expecting the usual salty, processed-meat smell all my other subjects had expelled. Instead I waShakespeare with the cold, marine smell of an aquarium in severe need of cleaning.
As the moist, swampy air filled my kitchen, my eyes began to water and my stomach heaved. Sadly, I realized I couldn't go back and readjust my scoring system for parts 1 and 2, because these things seriously break the smell scale. I would have to go negative.
SMELL: -5/10 ("My mouth is watering, but only to lubricate my throat for the upcoming vomit.")
Ho. Lee. Gawd. These things look awful. Together in the can they look downright evil; they remind me of something Hellboy would fight. I know, I know, they're garden-eating snails; what did I expect, right? But I didn't expect them to look so ... snaily.
Actually, since they're sans shell they more closely remember slugs, which is worse. Visions of slime trails on sidewalks and Leucochloridium paradoxum dance in my head.
I stab one with my fork and it immediately emits a semen-esque white goo.
After dying a little inside and retching over my sink, I decide to do some dishes. In fact, for 16 minutes I do whatever I can to avoid having to think about eating this thing, because just getting near enough to smell the can is making me dry heave.
APPEARANCE: -10/10 ("I can't decide if I'm hoping that goo is blood, guts, or snail slime.")
There was nothing left to do but man up and eat a goddamn snail.
I pop the stinky little gastropod into my mouth and immediately gag on the dying aquarium smell. I bite down. The texture is tougher than I thought, like a cocktail weenie that's been sitting in the crock pot all day. The meat is kind of chunky and releases slime onto my tongue. The goo beelines for the back of my throat (just like my freshman year of college!) and I can feel the vomit reflex tingling. It's sort of like when you know you have to sneeze but it's not quite there, only instead of sneezing I'm about to forcibly expel snail from my throat.
The ACTUAL taste of the snail is basically sea water. A little salty, kind of bland, but the texture of the snail combined with the horrid juice it's been soaking in should probably be reserved for a circle of hell. One of the inner ones. Where do child molesters end up? That one.
Finally, I can take no more. I throw up. I don't mean a polite little "This is gross and I must spit it out now," either. I mean full-on kneeling at the toilet heaving and crying.
I had specifically not eaten that afternoon so as to work up enough hunger to consider eating snails, so I got to enjoy nothing but lumpy brackish chunks catching in my throat and teeth.
I had failed. What was supposed to be a wacky and zany article culminating with me eating snails and Cheez Whiz had turned into a horrid night of stomach-turning agony. I downed a beer and could still taste the operculum. My stomach continued to roil and toss for an hour after the failed experiment, preventing me from trying a refreshing snail smoothie.
TASTE: -INFINITY/10
But my suffering has not been in vain. Now you, kind ZUG reader, can go forth and stockpile tinned meat knowing that for the grace of my stomach you are making the right call when you grab the Vienna Sausages and Spam.
Just stay the hell away from the snails.
FINAL SCORES (lower=worse)
SPAM
12/30
VIENNA SAUSAGES
11/30
POTTED MEAT
7/30
CORNED BEEF HASH
6/30
CANNED SNAILS
-INFINITY/30
syncope is a comedy writer and performer currently studying with the Upright Citizens Brigade in Los Angeles. You can read about the other dumb things he often does regularly at his blog.
Ho. Lee. Gawd. Some of the best stuff on Zug in quite a while. And all of a sudden I'm in the mood for some fried chicken. Something about having a leg vain snapping back atcha...
I dated a woman once who was going through a divorce. Her about-to-be ex-husband loved Corn Beef Hash. He would come home from the bar lit out of his mind and have her make it for him. So one time he came home and she heated up a can of dog food. He didn't know the difference.
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