I figured I’d better weigh in on the Jerky wars. I like beef jerky. Hell, I’ve made beef jerky. It has the two things that sustain life: salt and red meat. Now, I’m not a big fan of the slim-jim stuff; way too much grease. (Buy one at the local 7-11 and pop it in the microwave for 30 seconds to see what I mean.) I’m also not a big fan of the stamped out jerky—the stuff that comes in cans, exactly the same size for each piece. Generally, it’s flavorless, also greasy, and just unappealing.
Real jerky, on the other hand, YUM! I’ve made it through many missed meals on a pound of jerky. (And then drank water. That’ll fill you up!) Sure, my cholesterol and sodium levels go through the roof. I’ll probably die of a heart attack, provided all these bullets don’t kill me first. I’ve never seen a soldier turn it down. The boys really do like the stuff.
One reason that I really like it is a good piece of jerky can get you through an entire meeting, if you let it get soft and chew slowly. It gives you something to do while staff goobs (hey, I did 5 years on staff) prattle on about their daily accomplishments and give new suspenses and requirements.
There. I’m in the “For” column on jerky.
Chuck
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