But hey, think of it this way. That foray into meat-of-sadness means you've contributed to what we're going to eat as a species when we launch ourselves into space, so that's not so bad, right?
All of this began, arguably, back when the french government offered a prize for the person who could fix their food shipping problem during the Napoleonic Wars. A gentleman by the name of Nicolas Appert realized that food cooked in glass jars only spoiled if the seals broke.
Now, good old Nic didn't understand why--and nobody would until Pasteur came around to explain micro-organisms to us--but he knew it worked. Well... It worked as long as you could transfer glass jars by horse/ship/human without breaking them.
"Boutappertcolljpb" by Jpbarbier Jean-Paul Barbier - Own work. Licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons.
So, now I'd like you to sit back and picture yourself bashing a tin of meat-like-substance open with a rock. Or trying to open it with your bayonet without killing yourself.
And that's the first rung on our race to the stars, right? Okay so maybe that's a bit of an over-simplification. But the fact of the mater is that NASA has spent an amazing amount of money, on the question of what astronauts are going to eat. And not just what they have eaten on all the voyages we've taken so far--Tang and M&M's and high-class c rations and that horrible dried ice-cream we've all tried at least once--but what they'd like to take in the future.
Now NASA talks about developing 3-D printed food (paste tubes a-z are combined with ingredients 1,2, and 5 in highly programmed steps to create possibly the most unappetizing cheese pizza you've ever seen). Probably more to tackle the reality of boredom than because they need the help with nutrition. Astronauts are cleared to bring tiny quantities of the stuff they want with them (because added weight is expensive) and I'm sure they hoard it and someone's job is to make sure Mike isn't going to go on a killing spree because Chuck at his candy corn.
God damn you Chuck, you're stuck on a tin can in space with the dude. Leave his food alone.
But I digress (freaking Chuck). What would they have to promise you, to get you into space? What food could we tempt you with, when it's time to run to the stars. Mac and cheese? A full turkey dinner in pill form? Spam and Pineapple Tang?
I think I might take any of those over the weird gravy-packet things they use now.