Pate: Pate is like meat frosting. Except when you eat frosting you want it to taste like sugar and not how your mouth tastes after eating a pile of bacon at brunch and pausing every 30 minutes to smoke cigarettes. Also, frosting isn’t grainy and usually comes in pleasurable colors like pink or white. Pate is the color of elephant skin and birthmarks.
Spam: Retains the shape of the can it came in and looks like eating muscle liposuction from one of the characters from Laguna Beach.
Mock Duck: The phrase “mock duck” features two hard stops, giving it a phonetic quality that hints at its unforgiving creepiness. Tasting and appearing jarringly similar to actual duck, it is lacking the hint of fakeness that our friend tofurkey has down. It could just be a prank to get vegetarians to eat meat, for all we know.
Bacon Bits: Like dumping instant trashiness on every salad. Possibly the worst bacon product.
Turkey Bacon: My friend Pete’s dad owns a meat factory or something, and has told us several times, “Never eat turkey bacon. You don’t even want to know.”
Turducken: Yo dawg we heard you liked birds.
Tiny Circular Lunchable Ham: Don’t get me wrong, I love me a Lunchable. Nothing perfectly combines nostalgia and regression like eating a gas-station-purchased Lunchable on Sunday morning while you chug Powerade and try to come back to life from a weekend of debauchery. But have you ever actually examined it? I mean first of all, normal meat doesn’t come cookie cutter stamped into a tiny circle. But worse, it’s like… sweaty. Like it is oozing something at all times and I don’t think it’s water or pig fat (which I think I can say with authority because I’m not sure there is even any actual pig in the meat).
Pancetta: Every time I eat pancetta, I feel guilty for so enjoying the straight up fat that swirls around it like an animal flesh Christmas ho-ho.
Beef Jerky: The only meat that you could also whip someone with, I think.
Grouse: Oh yum, a bird that someone shot at their cabin, possibly while using a latrine with the door open. The smell of grouse cooking would be the perfect smell to commit suicide to, because it makes you hate life so much.
Steak Tartare: From what I understand, steak tartare is a pile of raw ground beef topped with a raw egg. The fuck? That said I’m not totally sure that’s what it is because I think only rich people or possibly people who aren’t from America eat this. Maybe this is like the ritzy equivalent of one of those specialty burgers at Red Robin, I don’t know.