There's no 'I' in MRE!

Bear Cave, in Coeur D’Alene, Idaho, bills itself as a “man store,” selling great items for men who don’t consider masculinity to be toxic. I bought a few civilian-issue field rations there: chili-mac, penne with vegetable sausage crumbles, and cheese tortellini. I thought about the strange culture surrounding military field rations, beginning with the name: MRE, “Meal, Ready to Eat,” instead of the more sensible “Ready to Eat Meal.”

MREs are food science miracles. The meat tastes like meat, and the pasta is palatable, served hot from a swell, water-activated heater pouch. MREs can ride in a Humvee through the hot desert for months and still be fine. It’s the military’s interaction with MREs that’s a bit weird.