Wham Bam Bread in a Can

One of my daily rituals is to send screenshots to my friend Lynsie of all the weird things social media wants me to buy. 

This diamond Jesus pendant, for example...

One day Facebook was trying to entice me to buy some canned bread, so naturally, I had to share that fact with Lynsie. A few days later, an unexpected package arrived on my porch, and the second I saw it, I knew exactly what it was and who sent it!

Lucky me! It even came in a two pack!

But before I go on with my story, I have to ask... did you know canned bread exists? I kind of wonder if canned bread has been like powdered milk historically. Are there families that raised their kids on this stuff? I had no idea there was such a thing as canned bread until Facebook started trying to make me buy it. And I have to wonder, what is it about my online activity that makes Facebook think I need canned bread in my life? (Not to mention all the other bizarre things that pop up in my ads).

I clicked on the link (you got me!) and read through some of the reviews, and there are some die hard canned bread enthusiasts out there (or lying robots. Who knows?)

Everything about canned bread seemed absolutely disgusting to me, but I couldn't just turn my back on Lynsie's gift. So the other day (after the bread sat in my pantry for a month - because you can do that with canned bread), I decided I better try it. 

So I opened a can of bread. 

It looked weird.

It smelled weird. 

It was everything you'd worry that canned bread might be. 

I learned that you have to open both ends of the can to effectively get the bread out. 

And then it comes out looking like cranberry sauce. 

Very unbread-like!

At that point, it can be carved into bread discs to eat. 

And well... it's hard to know what to say. To me, for reasons I don't understand, it had a raisin-like flavor. I tried a little piece (very little), processed the taste for a moment, then bit into another piece and asked my brain, "Are we understanding this correctly?" I was trying to not let the fact that it came from a can cloud my judgement, but it was weird and gross. 

Would I eat it if it would save my life? Fine. Sure. In matters of life or death, canned bread wins. But under any other circumstance, I don't ever need to eat canned bread again.  

Now I’m just waiting for my $1,200 Jesus pendant to arrive because, surely, Lynsie has ordered me one.