Meat Spread

I am always surprised that when I tell my friends of the culinary delicacy that is meat spread they respond by blanching, swooning, barfing, or fainting.  Cultureless cretins!

Let me tell you about meat spread, the most succulent dish of my childhood.

First, take some leftover pot roast.  The pot roast should have been cooked the night before and stashed in the fridge in a Ziploc overnight.  When you take it out of the fridge, the Ziploc transparency should be obscured by a layer of grease.  That's how you know it's ready.

Screw your meat grinder to the edge of the counter (you do have a meat grinder, don't you?).  Start to feed chunks of the leftover meat into the grinder, swearing vociferously as you do so.  Those piquant phrases add a little extra spice to this recipe.  You could trim some of the fat from the meat before you begin, but honestly, you don't have time for that, so let's not bother.

Once you have a bowl of succulent ground meat, it's time for the Miracle Whip.  What's that?  You want to know if mayo is a good substitute?  God, no!  That's sick.  Miracle Whip or nothing.

Glop several heaping spoonfuls of Miracle Whip into the bowl.  Don't be shy, pile it on in.  Now, add a bunch of relish.  I forget if it's dill or sweet, so maybe try some of both.

Mix, mix, mix.

Next, get two slices of white bread.  Not the fancy artisanal stuff -- make it Wonder bread.  Better, make it a grocery store knock-off of Wonder bread.  It must be cheap!

Spread your meaty concoction (now you know where we get the name!) over the white bread.  Don't miss the corners!  You ruin the sandwich if you miss the corners.

Now consume.  Masticate.  Delight in the slight crunch of the relish.  Swirl the bolus in your mouth, let it mingle with your spit.  Swallow.

Yeahhhhhhh.  That's good eats.