Iron Chef SPAM

This webpage details the epic excitement surrounding the clash between Iron Chef Micronesia-Latvia and his challenger, Irawata Smith of the Nominal Nippon Kitchen.

Iron Chef          vs           Challenger Irawata

Kitchen arena was cleaned spotless, the refrigerator restocked with beer, and a new secret ingredient selected and hidden away in preparation for a new challenger and a new battle to be waged.

The challenger, Irawata Smith, is a dangerous culinary outcast from Japanese society – an American by birth but raised in Japan from the tender age of 18.
Always solemn (when not consumed by cooking rage), Iron Chef Latvia-Micronesia respectfully received Irawata to kitchen arena.

Following the customary presenting of the knives, the challenger posed for the cameras with supercilious aplomb. In a typical culin-judo response to the display of confidence, using the enemy’s confidence against him, the Iron Chef declared a mandatory “bowling ball” and bottle caps flew like spent casings as both competitors tasted, swiftly, the sweet ambrosia that is bock beer.
Next to follow was the revealing of the secret battle ingredient, what would it be? What titillating surprise could the kitchen arena staff have in store beneath pot and bag?

Tossing aside the concealing vestments the ingredient was revealed to be SPAM! “It’s on!” the challenger was heard to declare nervously.

The challenger peeled back the lid and the Iron Chef made his own declaration, “It smells like what dog food tastes like!”

Once dropped from its tin casket, the SPAM was sliced into moieties and snatched away by the chefs. In an obvious attempt to drum up confidence against the strange and intimidating ingredient, the Iron Chef slipped into his typical brand of eastern culinary pedantry, “The trick is quarters,” he said, “It’s all about the yin and the yang. I like to get it set up – get it balanced – get the feng shui going.” He said as he sliced and arranged the SPAM in a radial pattern “Oh ho!” He said, stepping back from his work and waving his knife knowingly. “Never cut against the grain!” Sensing that his opposition was somewhat dazed by the grand scale and bright lights of kitchen arena, the Iron Chef began a steady stream of shit talking and third person declarations of confidence to encourage the confusion and doubt in his enemy.

“The Iron Chef - he’s a mover, he’s a talker…” and while washing his hands, “all genius is founded in neuroses.” The challenger, rather than appearing to be aware of a single word uttered by his cocksure competitor, was overly concerned with coordinating the camera crew and arranging the best side of his vanity.
Moving right along, the Iron Chef, having brought forth a box of buttermilk pancake batter, was rattling on about ‘sexy food’ and was running his hands through raw egg in a bowl.
Realizing that the ingredients of the enemy were mounting before him on the counters of kitchen arena, the challenger was momentarily overwhelmed (indicative of the physiological condition that the Americans call “stress”, known here in Japan as “homeostasis”)

Both competitors fired up their burners and began to fry their SPAM.
Sensing the need for a boost in performance-enhancing confidence, the challenger declared his need to “Get in the zone” and poured himself a glass of rum flavored with tangerine juice. The Iron Chef was aghast at such effrontery to the honored beer tradition. The kitchen arena supervisors were consulted in regards to the rules dictating the use of performance enhancing drugs and the move was deemed acceptable.

In what would prove to be just the beginning of a trend of strange food analogies, the Iron Chef proceeded to “throw around” an egg, “like a cheap hooker.”
The challenger then produced a bottle of soy sauce which immediately drew the contempt of the Iron Chef, who called the challenger a “sloppy amateur.” The challenger, obviously insulted, doused both his own pan and the pan of the Iron chef with swift strokes of the bottle.

The Iron Chef was incensed beyond the realm of polite expression and, was it not for the immediate intervention of the kitchen arena security staff, analysts are certain he would have committed an unforgivable ‘spit’ foul. The kitchen security staff, already present, was then enlisted to investigate the Iron chef’s claims of sabotage – someone had greased the grip of his beer bottle with slick cooking oil.
In response to an observer’s query, the Iron Chef said this of his dish, “Some would call it an omelet, but that’s the uneducated. The fewer questions you ask the better it will taste – because ignorance is like MSG – it’s a flavor enhancer.” At this time the challenger was waving about a sizable cucumber and had become quite cocky in his speech. In retaliation, the Iron chef threw pancake mix in his face and in the confusion brought forth a zucchini from the refrigerator. A vegetable fight of phallic proportions then ensued, kitchen arena security, once again, was called to quell the conflict.

Showing super-human initiative, the challenger was then able to beat the Iron Chef to the obvious masturbation imitation with a quick cleaning of his cucumber.
Demonstrative of his wide culinary travels, the Iron Chef waved his zucchini over the frying SPAM enacting a rite of “Bumbletuber Voodoo,” something he learned in Tahiti.

While the challenger blissfully rolled a lump of fresh garlic about in his hands the Iron Chef was happily gulping pilfered tangerine tonic behind his back. An honorable, but not too astute member of the camera crew made a verbal note of the Iron Chef’s actions. His gig up, the irate Iron Chef grabbed the handiest projectile - a wedge of the challenger’s chopped cucumber, and hurled it at the obviously impenitent camera man.
The Challenger, his blood flowing due to the compounding injustices, bellowed, “Don’t touch my ingredients!” and in doing so, hit a decibel level that was surely felt, and not heard, by the neighbors.
The Iron Chef then began bragging about “doubling down” while the Challenger repeated plaintively and with mounting apprehension, “Where’s my SPAM?” After the third repetition he was alerted to its whereabouts by a helpful “Under your fucking knuckles!” from the competition.

The Iron Chef proceeded to wash a pan and lie about his usage of soap while the Challenger diligently diced garlic to an acidic dust.
The Iron Chef, while cutting zucchini, reflected with obvious delight, “If cutting human flesh was like this, there’d be problems.” The challenger chuckled with guilty pleasure. Soon a four way discussion arose over the possible similarities and dissimilarities between the two sliceables.

In response to an observation of the miniscule size of his garlic choppings the Challenger said, “It is in the details that life is won and lost.” He then refused the tempura box indicating that he needed no instructions. It was at this time that the Iron Chef poured tumbling lumps of tumeric into his dish and then coated his hands with the epidemic spice in a feeble attempt to lessen its presence.
The panic experienced by the Iron Chef, rather than diminishing with deep breaths, was exacerbated by the Challenger who was tearing through the cabinets in a mad panic. As the Iron chef realized that certain foods were cooking that were supposedly not, the kitchen environment quickly degraded to a realm of chaotic yelling, throwing, cussing and nonsensical Spanish phrases.
The challenger found his packet of tempura mix under a pot and the savagery ended as quickly as it had begun. “It’s just water and a bowl,” he said smugly, “but through the magic of cooking it becomes something more.”

A passing critic commented on the odoriferous nature of the Iron Chef’s dish and paid for his words with a severe intimidation.
The challenger poured ¾ of a bottle of oil into a pan and then quipped, “Oil gets very hot – I’ve learned this in the various culinary schools in the world that I’ve visited.” His swaggering conceit would soon by regretted. The Iron Chef, cutting open a red pepper, discovered a startling creature which danced about the counter to the amusement of all

The Challenger brashly tripped over a piece of camera equipment, drawing the immediate disapproval of a proximate camera man who kicked the challenger in playful retaliation. Stiff words were exchanged, culminating in the Challenger’s, “Cameraman shouldn’t be gettin’ the equipment in the way in the first place!” To which it was apparent that the camera man had been severely ‘served’. Mad howling, ‘props’ and high-fives followed.
The Iron Chef cut the red pepper into strips “like at home in the Japanese Alps.” He then observed, “look at this – this is going to take forever. You know what I’m going to do? When things are getting hairy – turn up the heat. You got time to make up? – Turn up the heat!”

Sometime after ‘desert snakes’ were spotted in the heating oil and the Challenger threw a jar of garlic powder at a camera man, the Iron Chef was seen staring purposefully into the jar. It was an old enemy revisited – long ago in a past both mystic and tragic the Iron Chef and garlic powder had parted ways. Could he now, in his moment of need, once again take sides with the one who had once betrayed him?
Sure- his decision made, the Iron chef admitted loudly that he was quite ‘jolly’ and then proceeded to force a camera man to agree to the pronouncement that beer is ‘good.’
It was then time for the Iron Chef’s tip of the day; “The thing about vegetables – don’t turn your back for long – it’s like a minimum wage worker.”
Riding some irrational high, the Iron Chef resumed a favorite vice: pontificating. He spoke grandly on the nature of authority and rights until the challenger crept up on him and attempted to pull his shirt over his head. The Iron chef struggled free (suddenly it is apparent why the wily chef wears tight shirts for competition) and an intense standoff ensued.

The tension was broken when the Iron Chef pounced on the challenger’s cut avocado and devoured a slice. Jason, a highly popular member of the Kitchen arena staff instigated a ‘beer run’ and soon everyone in the studio found himself the proud owner of a sparkling new bottle of Bavarian soda.

To Part 2