The Canned Food Conundrum
How did our palates change to crave the remnants of colonial commodification?
Welcome to another issue of meryenda monday. Since our first piece, we’ve welcomed over 100+ new subscribers 🤯 To think, these conversations would happen in a hushed oscillation of rage and enlightenment just between Cassie and I. Today’s issue focuses on canned food. While quite a few articles already exist surrounding canned food and colonialism, I couldn’t help but share my own pieces of research and insight on the food that sparked my curiosity in our penchant for all things American. After all, I grew up in Manila and oddly enough, I vividly remember holding my first dollar bill with such high regard. Did you act similarly? I hope this piece gets you thinking.
Growing up, opening a can of Vienna sausage and seeing those perfect pink uniform logs swaddled in gelatinous broth was more satisfying than eating the likes of Eggo waffles and Toaster Strudels, the now freezer aisle artifacts of America’s 90s youth. I would smash those contents right from the can into a mound of freshly cooked rice and immediately find bliss in the mash of glistening blended meat. And don’t even get me started on corned beef, which, in my humble opinion, rightfully sits on the throne of canned food glory. As a kid, canned food became embedded into weekend breakfasts alongside a spread of pancakes, cheddar studded smokies sausages, and garlic fried rice.
If you’re like me, you’re probably wondering: how did our palates change to crave the remnants of colonial commodification?
Before we unbox this canned food conundrum, it’s important to rewind a bit and look at some major historical moments in Philippines history. We’ll be going back to these pivotal moments quite heavily, so I may as well drill them in you now (because as we all know, the paragraph on Philippine history covered in our school textbooks did little other than highlight the Bataan death march). So, welcome to Philippines history lesson 101 — super condensed edition.
In 1898, the Spanish-American war officially ends with the Treaty of Paris, ceasing over 300 years of Spanish rule in the Philippines. While Spain finally cedes political control of the Philippines and transfers sovereignty to the United States, Philippine independence is barred by America’s opportunistic interests in the the Pacific. Determined to seek independence rather than remain pacified under the change in a colonial ruler, Filipinos would fight against US forces in a bloody three-year war.
1902 marks the official end of the Philippine-American war, although not really the end, because Americans would continue to colonize the Philippines for the next 40 years until 1946 when President Truman would recognize the Philippines as an independent nation.
This post-war period, my kaibigan, is where the bulalo lies — the marrow — the part others may gloss over, but if you know, you know. In this exploration of canned food, we can begin to uncover the ramifications of American occupation in the Philippines. In fact, René Alexander Orquiza, author of Taste of Control, says it best:
“Food tells these stories in vivid and painful detail, recounting much more than a simple record of how people ate. Rather, it tells us how people lived in their attempt to learn the cultural standards of their new ruler from across the sea.”
American Food Politics
Sadly, there aren’t many documented sources from Filipinos during the immediate post-war period, but we can thank the very opinionated recollections of a handful of Americans in the Philippines in this era.
One such opinionated American was Edith Moses.
Edith was the wife of Bernard Moses, a member of the First Philippine Commission appointed by President McKinley whose primary function was to determine if the Philippines was ready to be an independent nation.
The commission ultimately decided,
"The United States cannot withdraw... We are there and duty binds us to remain. The Filipinos are wholly unprepared for independence… there being no Philippine nation, but only a collection of different peoples.”
Edith wrote a collection of letters providing detailed insight into life in the Philippines during American occupation. This series of letters, published into a book titled, Unofficial Letters of an Official’s Wife, became a sort of premature Philippines burn book.
In her letters, she frequently mentions the difficulties she encounters during Philippine domestic gatherings for the sake of politics. On several occasions, she also clearly expresses her disapproval for indigenous ingredients. For example, after being served a custard made with buffalo milk during her visit to Negros, she writes, “I shiver to think of it, but it was the best they had.” And it wasn’t just Moses. Americans in the Philippines, unimpressed by local tastes, sought imported butter and canned milk to satisfy their dairy preferences.
During the height of the cholera epidemic in Manila between 1902-1904, American officials at the time connected contamination to local food. Edith offered her insight to the spread of cholera, writing, “The natives eat [mango fruit] in such large quantities that they predispose themselves to cholera.” According to Edith, Filipinos lacked cultural maturity because they continued to consume food thought to be the source of illness. Edith dismissed the epidemic, easily pointing fault at the natives while eating “her diet of tinned fruit at Baguio.” Much to her ignorance, pestilence is a profound consequence and manifestation of military conflict and colonial power in foreign land. In this case, cholera struck the Philippines just as the Philippine-American War ended, leaving close to 200,000 Filipinos dead.
The act of eating canned goods may seem innocent enough, but it ultimately reflects the power dynamics between Filipinos and their colonizers. These new standards imposed by Americans perpetuated Filipino colonial mentality and American exceptionalism where “better” was emphasized under the American ideal. Unfortunately, as we all would learn, these standards would remain unattainable for Filipinos.
Shift in Embracing American Influence
The US would continue to push their agenda in the Philippines through food politics for the next four decades.
Canned food soon became status markers. If Americans ate it and used it to establish their social superiority, then Filipinos at the time must have observed canned food as a symbol of cultural sophistication and refinement. I guess you can say Filipinos were good at picking up vibes and reading the room.
Not only was canned food given this sort of social prestige, but also a justified one. Canned food at the time was more expensive than meat. A 12-oz can of SPAM cost about $2 USD while a kilo (roughly two pounds) of pork went for around $2.70. We can conclude that those who ate canned food needed disposable income. Because of this, SPAM and other canned food became the choices for pasalubong. They were a delicacy, something reserved and prepared for special occasions.
Filipino Resilience in Food Ways
While canned goods continue to appeal to Filipino taste buds, Filipinos never failed to assert their own authority in the discourse of the superior American palate. In a somewhat satirical response to the introduction of American canned goods, a local Philippine company called National Foods began canning Filipino dishes such as bangus to combat dependence on imported canned food. Filipinos asserted nationalistic pride in canned food the same way Americans encouraged canned food consumption, disrupting America’s claims of political and cultural power. However, the appeal to Filipino nationalism would further associate canned foods with a sense of home and comfort even before the proliferation of SPAM during World War II.
Another uniquely Filipino approach to canned food is the emergence of Spamsilog and cornsilog (corned beef silog). The intermeshing of American products and Filipino preferences is a testament to the persistence of Filipino tastes and culture in the height of American colonial propaganda.
These examples illustrate how global commodities can indeed be reinvigorated and reinterpreted by locals to produce something entirely new. Canned food may be remnants of colonialism but the change in our palate shouldn’t be attributed largely under a subservient narrative. If we do, we discredit the ways in which Filipinos managed to blend both local and foreign tastes into something actually ours to crave.
Expanding Conversations
I’ll be real. I remember learning all of this and thinking, “My tastes have been a product of American colonialism all along?”
While “shook” might be the natural reaction, our purpose is not to ignite SPAM cancel culture. We may have lost an entire era of culinary documentation to a skewed historical spotlight on America’s radical dietary subversion in the Philippines, but understanding the past helps us understand ourselves so that we can begin reclaiming our stories. To build a better future, it’s important to understand the broken pieces in which we are rebuilding from. In this metamorphosis, we can start asking the bigger questions.
What else could be lost if we don’t start paying attention?
How does our perception of taste limit our understanding of our culture?
Why is intersectionality important in the conversation of Filipino cuisine?
So next time you take a bite of SPAM or put Vienna sausage in your pandesal, remember you are consuming layers of a buried history rife with hidden agendas, political conflicts and cultural transformation. With each bite, you also consume living traces of resilience in which Filipinos turned a colonial commodity into celebration and defied American authority’s discourse over what should be considered “good food.” Canned food is part of our history. What we make of it, well, my kaibigan, that’s the power in our palate. As for me, SPAM will always be welcome on my dining table, albeit, likely slathered in Kewpie mayo, layered with crispy egg and wedged in a toasted pandesal.
In Case You Missed It
Where Does Ube Really Come From?
Currently Reading/Watching and Eating/Drinking
Trese on Netflix with De La Calle Tepache
Thank for sharing this amazing content, that’s written so beautifully. I find myself reading it several times to fully digest. Thanks again!