My Nana and her large Italian family are from Pottstown, PA. I can tell you for a certainty that when she was still alive and living with us, there was scrapple in our house at all times. Almost like emergency rations line up in the cupboard. Nana called those emergencies breakfast, and broke out the scrapple at every given opportunity.

I was down for it when I was younger, but haven't really had any since I moved to college and then out on my own, and have worked my way around into being scared to try it again. Because that blots out a portion of my childhood if my adult tastebuds have wised up to what's going on in that can.

That being said, I'm pleased to note the crazy vintage wanking was about scrapple. I'd say "who does that", except knowing my family, my great-grandmother and everyone of similar generation were wanking about it, too.