What exactly is Loof?

Ever wonder what comes in a can, could be beef or chicken, is kosher, and has a pale pink colour? If you answered yes, you’re not alone. From soldiers with their combat rations (manot krav) to the more adventurous gastronomic explorers, the lore and legend of Loof is well known. I searched for loof on Google and found 964,000 results; someone must be searching the internet for more information. Many try to explain away the inherent complexities of what exactly loof is as the Israeli equivalent of spam. This could not be further from the truth. Loof comes in two varieties commonly found the supermarket, “beef” and “chicken”. It’s interesting that both the “beef” and “chicken” cans have the same picture on the label and more or less the same smell and consistency. Unlike spam, the ingredients are a mystery, and unlike spam, loof is very kosher. I have heard an urban legend of soldiers eating loof in Lebanon recently which was left over from the supplies earmarked for Lebanon twenty years ago. It seems that eating loof practically older than you are doesn’t actually kill you, and as far as the packing, contents and smell, the makers stick to tradition after all these years. It seems to be indestructible; thousands of years from now, archeologists will find cans which are still ready to eat. I wonder what they will think of us, based on those small cans? Loof is a pinkish mass resembling canned pet food, and comes out of the can with a resounding “Shhhllllluuurpppp!” as it slides, wiggling, onto your plate. There are many opinions as to how this delicacy should be eaten, fried, seasoned, roasted, and cold out of the can, the list goes on. It’s a versatile manna, and ready to be molded into the most creative of recipes. By volume and weight, it seems that it is approximately the same price as the leading band of cat food; I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not, perhaps they get their “beef” from the same “farm”. Since loof is kosher, and has ingredients listed on the side of the can, I can’t imagine they put anything too terrible in there. They list the ingredients in the typical Israeli mystical fashion common to all cans: Beef, Preservatives. They don’t really explain what beef means, or what really is in there, its one of life’s big mysteries. I myself like picking out the small bits of identifiable “meat” and feeding the rest to the accumulated cats, who take one whiff of the potent smell and come running. I have noticed several times how the allure of the loof scent, which is ordinarily repugnant to humans, is like sniffing crack cocaine for cats. They are enthralled by the scent, fighting just to approach. The people in the vicinity however, are running while holding their noses and shielding their eyes. Loof isn’t for everyone, but everyone should try it at least once. Perhaps it’s like a rite of passage, live to tell about it, and have a long life.