grilled spam and pineapple sandwich

• spam, sliced
• cored pineapple slices
• fresh baby spinach
• Dijon mustard
• hamburger bun

Grill spam and pineapple on bbq until just slightly charred. Assemble sandwich as follows (from bottom to top); bun, spinach, pineapple, spam, mustard, bun.

The dish: Spam was born as the marketing effort to revive sales of Hormel's spiced ham. The name was the result of a contest where the lucky winner, the brother of a Hormel executive (fix anyone?), won $100 for tagging the iconic canned meat. Many years later, there is no spot on the earth that consumes more Spam than Hawaii, whose citizens each eat in excess of 15 tins per year of the edible junk mail. First introduced by soldiers during World War II, Spam quickly became a staple of the native diet. The 50th state is pretty far out there and needs to import pretty much everything, so the canned meat that travels well is an obvious choice for dinner on the island. Spam is so prevalent that Hawaiian McDonald's and Burger Kings offer it on their menus. My first introduction to Spam came when I moved into a bachelor pad apartment with regular red room reader Rebecca's (up yours Judy Bussman- don't worry, your not supposed to get it) now husband, Kevin. A group of us sat and watched reluctantly as Kevin grilled us up a snack. I'm pretty open minded, but Spam just has such a connotation to it, but damned if it wasn't delicious. This sandwich is a nod to Kevin's genius grilling and the folks that call Spam their "Hawaiian steak".

turkey with mixed spring greens and apples on rye

• thin sliced turkey breast (I roasted and sliced my own)
• 1 red delicious apple, slice thin
• mixed greens of your liking
• good quality mustard
• good quality rye bread

Assemble sandwich in this order: bread, mustard, turkey, apple, greens, top piece of bread. My many years in deli work have made me nutty with always making sure that condiments go on the bottom and veggies always go on top. Any greens will work, but if you're near a Hannaford pick up the spring mix with herbs. Likewise, use whatever mustard tickles you, I had some spicy brown Grey Poupon which rocked. I roasted and sliced my own turkey breast, but if your kitchen doesn't look like the inside of a deli any good turkey will work, but I avoid Boar's Head like the plague as their meats are nothing but a celebration of funk and salt.

The dish: I really miss the 90s sometimes. It could just be short term nostalgia but things really seemed so much newer and brighter in the decade that introduced us to cell phones and Chicken Soup for the Soul books. Although one part of the 90s I certainly don't long for anymore is what I like to call Seinfelditis, the tendency in almost any conversation for someone to make some analogy using an episode of the fabled TV show: wow, you like junior mints too? this is just like that time on Seinfeld... In the decade since Jerry has gone the way of the beanie baby and the phenomenon has mostly died out. That is of course until someone finds out I own a deli slicer, and then I always get remember the Seinfeld where Kramer feed the cat with the slicer? I'm not much of a TV person to begin with and the show never struck a chord with me, but the slicer episode is one of the two I've actually seen (the junior mints one being the other) and it was pretty funny, but slightly tragic when Elaine leveled her heel with the blade. Truth be told, the occasional bout of Seinfelditis is a small price to pay for the convenience of owning a slicer. Whether it's making my own lunch meats, slicing vegetables, or cutting perfectly even pieces of crostini for fresh bruschetta, the slicer is a must have for the red room. I highly advocate picking one up, just like Seinfeld you'll wonder how you ever lived without it.