Hong Kong-Style Spam and Egg Sandwich

Having spent most of my childhood in Hong Kong, I know it’s a city that’s not particularly enthusiastic about sandwiches. There is, however, one most Hong Kongers will admit to enjoying: the Spam and egg sandwich. Served at cha chaan tengs (茶餐廳, “tea cafés” commonly referred to as Hong Kong-diners and CCTs), the sandwich is spectacularly simple, consisting of a pile of hastily scrambled eggs and crisp, savory Spam between two slices of toasted white bread. It’s a common breakfast for many in Hong Kong, often washed down with a cup of strong milk tea.

Growing up, the Spam and egg sandwich was my favorite savory dish from the cha chaan teng. I remember visiting the beach with my dad as a kid, where we’d sometimes meet my grandpa after his morning swim on Sunday mornings. There was a little red brick building with a tiny kitchenette that churned out a bunch of CCT classics, like instant noodles with chicken wings and condensed milk on buttered toast. While my dad and grandpa chatted, they’d keep me occupied with a Spam and egg sandwich. We were all happy campers: They got to catch up and I got breakfast. I’d stuff the sandwich into my mouth, eggs spilling everywhere. To this day, I find this meal extremely comforting—it’s simple and I always know what I’m going to get.

How to Make Creamy, Tender Scrambled Eggs the Hong Kong Way

You might be thinking: What could be so special about a Spam and egg sandwich? The Spam is good (I mean, it’s fried luncheon meat—what’s not to love?) but it’s the incredibly tender eggs that make the sandwich such a pleasure to eat. Unlike a French-style soft scramble, these eggs have a bit more bite to them, but still manage to have a delightfully custardy texture. And, unlike a French-style soft scramble, there’s no standing over the stove, patiently stirring the eggs over low heat until they begin to set into soft curds. The method for these eggs is easy, speedy, and…dare I say, foolproof?

The secret to achieving the custardy texture of a Hong Kong-style scramble has everything to do with the slurry that’s whisked into the eggs, not some nonsense about choosing laid-that-day eggs. (Cha chaan tengs are all about food that’s affordable, speedy, and tasty, and you’d be hard-pressed to find a farm-to-table CCT.) It’s a technique that many cooks in Hong Kong use, and one that Hong Kong-based blogger Mandy Lee employs in her recipe for “magic” scrambled eggs. Kenji has also written about this method of making an extra-creamy scramble in the New York Times.

To understand how incorporating a slurry into eggs makes them ultra-tender, we first need to understand what happens when we cook eggs. In his book On Food and Cooking, food scientist Harold McGee writes about how egg proteins remain “compact and separate” and float in water when raw. When we cook eggs, however, these proteins unfold and bond to one another, creating an interwoven network. Eggs begin to coagulate at 160ºF (70ºC), but when we introduce additional liquid to eggs, like water, milk, or, in our case, a slurry of potato or tapioca starch and half-and-half, we dilute them, increasing the temperature at which they cook. 

Because our slurry is made with half-and-half, we’re also contributing fat, which can help further prevent protein molecules from bonding too tightly. I had originally hoped to use heavy cream in my slurry, but the dairy proved to be slightly too thick. Half-and-half, on the other hand, is thin enough to make a slurry with, and though it isn’t as fatty as cream, it’s still richer than whole milk and lends the eggs a buttery flavor and texture.

By incorporating a slurry into our scrambled eggs, we’re making it more difficult for the protein molecules to tangle and bond with one another. We’re also locking in moisture, as starch granules swell and gelatinize when they’re mixed with water and heated to a certain temperature, holding onto liquid that would otherwise evaporate. (Tapioca starch gelatinizes around 138 to 149ºF or 59 to 65ºC; potato starch gelatinizes around 140 to 149ºF or 60 to 65ºC; and cornstarch gelatinizes at 144 to 162ºF or 62 to 72ºC.)

While potato starch, tapioca starch, and cornstarch all produced velvety scrambles in my testing, the eggs made with potato or tapioca starch were ever so slightly silkier than those made with a cornstarch slurry. Using a cornstarch slurry still produced eggs that were more tender than the average scramble; they just weren’t quite as satiny as those made with potato or tapioca starch.

Beyond the texture of the eggs, one major benefit of this method is how quick and effortless it is. Once you’ve whisked your eggs and slurry together, all you have to do is heat oil in a pan until it shimmers, then pour your eggs in. Using a rubber spatula to swirl and fold the eggs until they’re just set—the whole process takes just about five minutes from start to finish. There’s no agonizing over whether your eggs will be overcooked—even if your eggs spend an extra minute in the hot pan, they’ll still have a delicate texture. Eggs cooked this way are great on their own or in any sandwich, including this one with Spam, of course.

Cooking the Spam and Assembling the Sandwich

Because canned luncheon meat is already cooked, preparing it is about as easy as it gets. All you have to do is remove it from its can, slice it, and pan-fry until it’s lightly golden, a straightforward process that takes less than 10 minutes. Since we’re topping our Spam with a towering heap of scrambled eggs, it’s best to slice it thinly; most CCTs aim for about 1/4-inch, and that’s what I’ve recommended here. How browned you want your Spam is entirely up to you, but the most delicious sandwiches have lightly bronzed slabs of meat that have spent enough time in the pan for some of its fat to render. The bread will soak up any lingering fat on the meat, making the sandwich even more savory. 

As for the best kind of bread to use, you’ll only find one kind at most cha chaan tengs: white bread. I love milk bread’s fluffiness, but if you can’t find milk bread (and don’t want to make it), any kind of soft white sandwich bread will work. Some cafés cut the crusts off, some leave them on; there’s no hard rule about it. While I generally prefer to keep the crust on my bread, I think removing them here makes for a more seamless eating experience, and reminds me of the sandwiches I ate growing up. Biting into my Spam and egg sandwich, I can almost smell the salt air and hear my dad and grandpa chatting away.