I’m a big fan of roast beef. Since probably the time I discovered deli sliced roast beef in high school, it’s been my go to sandwich meat. There’s just something about that thin sliced beefy goodness, paired up with some sharp cheddar cheese, deli mustard, fresh tomato and lettuce, all piled between 2 slices of bread, that seems to make a lunch feel complete.
What if there were a way to easily package and store your roast beef? A way that allowed you to take it with you on camping trips without worrying about refrigeration? That you could buy in bulk and save for the impending apocalypse? Some say such magic would be from the devil.
Well, it may not be the devil, but Underwood Meat Spread products, famous for their devil logo’d deviled ham, believes they have the answer – canned roast beef spread.
Underwood’s cans all come wrapped in paper to serve as a label for the food as well as to prominently display their logo multiple times over the can. When peeling off the paper, you are left with a non-descript can with no markings indicating what it contains in the can. This could be an unfortunate predicament should one find themselves in a situation where the paper accidentally has come off the can.
The can contains a pull tab top, much like many other popular canned meats. Peeling back the tab revealed a greasy cat food like slurry. It smelled nothing like beef… unless you consider rotting cow corpses wrapped in dirty diapers a form of beef.
I was ultimately surprised by the consistency as I took a knife and went to scoop out the spread. The knife penetrated the spread very easily. The density fell somewhere between refried beans and whipped cream.
For this test, I spread the beef on some sandwich thins. The thinner bread would lend it’s self as a vessel for the spread, while being thin enough to not get in the way of the tasting of the actual roast beef spread.
I’m more than certain, if you added a bucket of salt to a can of cat food, you’d be pretty spot on to tasting Underwood Roast Beef Spread. I could feel my intestines cringing in disbelief, knowing that within hours, they’d be facing the same trauma my mouth was being assaulted with.
I swallowed down that bite knowing that out there, somewhere, there’s a herd of cows grazing in a field, waiting for the day they too can be ground down, packed in a can, and spread on bread and crackers. May those cows find peace in their remaining days.
I just don’t understand why someone would trade out delicious roast beef for a spread that resembles something you’d give your pet?
Just stay away… don’t do it. It’s bad. It’s real bad.