From the desert borders of Kuwait, American troops have bravely fought all the way to Baghdad. Their tireless campaign to rid Iraq of the vile regime that once stood takes strong, willing and well-nourished soldiers.
And in the total war coverage that ensued on network television, I decided the best way to immerse myself into the action would be eating like a soldier.
To help the famished soldiers come the aptly titled military rations, MREs, or meals ready-to-eat. They are standard for all branches of the military and are often the only source of food for soldiers on the go.
During the taste test, I was able to procure two MREs care of the Army Reserve’s 736th Transportation Company on Chester Avenue.
The first ration I tried was from Menu No. 6, beef frankfurters, a main course. When this came to mind, I recalled fond memories of cooking hot dogs over the campfire at night. But these frankfurters were the redheaded stepchild to the hot dog.
The instructions on the MRE tell you to throw the food packet in the cooking bag with just enough water to activate the chemical heater, which, under military caution, releases a flammable gas. After angling the MRE against a rock, the cooking bag balloons beneath the carton and, 10 minutes later, you have beef frankfurter a la carte.
The menu was careful not to let the beef franks assume a role beyond its importance, though. The ration offered other items such as the syrupy peach cocktail and the strange “potato stick” snacks, which were badly in need of some salt.
Oh, but Uncle Sam already thought of that, along with the coffee, cream, sugar, a wet nap, tissue, gum and, for good taste, a miniature bottle of Tabasco sauce – for what, I don’t know.
The bland, tasteless crackers they included reminded me of chewing dry, crunchy cardboard, except this had some nutrition in it. But when has anything that’s been good for you tasted good?
The only thing that made these wheat crackers bearable was smothering them in peanut butter and washing them down with the semi-sugary, lemon-lime concoction included in the meal.
And nothing made me feel more sorry for our troops than the despicable main course. In this case, the word “frankfurters” was just another culinary euphemism for “salty, processed beef logs.”
If we want to support our troops, my first suggestion would be to stop feeding them the equivalent of re-thawed hot dogs nuked in the microwave way too long. Maybe I should make a peanut butter cracker delight with beef frank chunk topping. Mmmm, delicious!
The second ration, Menu No. 6, was of the vegetarian persuasion. It struck me as quite odd.
I didn’t realize the military let in vegetarians, let alone supplied them with food.
But in all honesty, the cheesy tortellini, sloppily cooked inside a bag of tomato sauce, surpassed the rancid frankfurters by leaps and bounds. The MRE also included other vegetarian friendly snacks such as a granola bar, peanut butter, crackers and applesauce that filled my stomach without seriously offending my palate.
And the one thing every kid had in his sack lunch at grade school, the wonderfully surprising, never-disappointing Fig Newton.
With the war at an end, there will no doubt follow the long restoration and humanitarian aid efforts currently being mobilized. However, soldiers should be wary of handing out their MREs to Iraqi civilians.
Speaking from a position of a cultured palate, one can imagine the culinary consequences of handing out those beef franks. We’re trying to help these people, not poison them! The last thing the U.S. military needs is another excuse to go to war.