The Artisanal Diet
By Bruce Cole - Published 05.04.04
"Great big gobs of greasy grimy gopher guts, mutilated monkey meat, dirty little birdies feet. French fried eyeballs soaking in a pool of blood, that's what we have for lunch!"
So went the daily refrain at the YMCA summer camp I attended when I was a kid. Lunch at camp was a baloney sandwich on Wonder Bread. Little did we know that we were actually singing about the ingredients of our less than substantial sandwich.
Ok. So no gophers were actually harmed in the making of those baloney sandwiches, but considering the current gopher population in San Francisco, the opportunity does present itself. The actual ingredients of a gopher, er, baloney sandwich is almost as scary as that memorable lunch ditty though. A 16oz package of Oscar Meyer Bologna contains the following: Ingredients:
"Mechanically separated chicken, pork, water, corn syrup, salt, contains 2% or less of: flavor, autolyzed yeast, sodium phosphates, sodium erythorbate (made from sugar), sodium nitrite, dextrose, extractives of paprika, sugar, potassium chloride."
I bet what you are really wondering about is the "mechanically separated chicken? Let's say that you've boned a chicken, but there is still bits of meat here and there that you could actually scrape off with a knife, but why bother, the bones are just going into stock anyways. Well down at your friendly neighborhood chicken processing plant, (not so friendly if you happen to be downwind) they don't have the time to scrape the meat off the bones, so they take their piles of chicken carcasses and make MSP out of them. According to the US Dept. of Agriculture, MSP (mechanically separated poultry) "is a paste-like and batter-like poultry product produced by forcing bones, with attached edible tissue, through a sieve or similar device under high pressure to separate bone from the edible tissue." It's interesting to note that little bits of bone smaller than the size of a pinhead make it into the MSP, which in turn, make it into part of your baloney sandwich. That's just fine for you and me,but it turns out that infants and small children can't handle the fluoride because it damages their immature teeth. Fluoride, you ask?
Since flouride is added to most of the U.S. water source, and chickens need a daily drink of tap water to survive, the fluoride ends up in their bones, and when those chicken bones sneak into the pulverized chicken meat, the fluoride is along for the ride. According to the Flouride Action Network (a coalition working to end water fluoridation): "Fluoride contributed by foods made with mechanically separated chicken could increase the risk of mild dental fluorosis for children less than eight years of age when combined with other sources of fluoride exposure." (See 1, 2, and 3). Hmmm, and you thought all those cavities you got as a kid came from one too many Milk Duds.
There's a long list of ingredients in that pack of Oscar Meyer Bologna including corn syrup, (see Kim Severson's "Sugar coated -
We're drowning in high fructose corn syrup...") and sugar. What, like corn syrup wasn't sweet enough they had to add sugar too? Not to mention sodium erythorbate (made from sugar), which works as an antioxidant to preserve the pink color of meats, as well as preventing the formation of cancer-causing nitrosamines. Does that mean it's good for you?
Right about now is when we skip over to the part about real baloney, otherwise known as Bologna, or what we'd like to refer to as Artisan Baloney.
We've pretty much ruined every facet of Italian food as it has been Americanized. Pizza in the U.S doesn't even remotely resemble the original. Eggplant parmesan and Fettucini Alfredo? Are you kidding me? And Bologna, poor Bologna. What has Oscar Meyer done to your good name, and to that of the Italian town where the hand-made meat history goes back to at least the 1300's, to the original Bologna, the meat known as Mortadella.
Traditionally slow-cooked in a brick oven, mortadella was made with pork, ground to smooth delicate texture, mixed with myrtle, mace, coriander, crushed garlic, black and white pepper, salt, and sometime pistachios. Cubes of pork fat were kneaded into the mixture, then it was stuffed into long, round casings. Mortadella was long banned in the U.S, which resulted in the horrid plastic wrapped versions made with factory processed meats that you'll find in most delicatessens.
Mortadella is most commonly known as a sandwich meat, although to put a slice of hand-cured mortadella on bread with mayo and mustard is almost criminal. It is an intensely aromatic meat with a silky texture, the pork fat dissolves on your tongue, as your sense of smell, which is suprisingly overwhelmed, tries to catch up with the your taste buds.
Besides the texture, the aroma, and the flavor, what distinguishes an artisanal baloney like mortadella, from the massed produced variety, is the care with which the ingredients are assembled. Start with the meat, carefully chosen from quality ranchers that practice sustainable methods and shun the use of antibiotics and hormones. No pulverized pork and chicken of questionable orgins in sight. Only the choicest cuts are used, and only the finest herbs and spices are added. It is hand-made, hand-cured, and handled with the utmost care, until it reaches your plate.
Finally, for artisanal baloney lovers, there is the mouth-watering anticipation of setting down to a meal of cured meats. Sure, you can head to the nearest steak house for your favorite rib-eye, or to the sushi bar down the block for a mouthful of sublime uni, but when it comes to the hand-cured meats, there is always a bit of wonder and enthusiasm. I compare it to opening that bottle of pinot noir you've been saving for a special occasion, because you aren't exactly sure what you'll be getting, but you know it's going to be really good. Marsha McBride, who owns Cafe Rouge in Berkeley, CA, says in a NY Times article, ''Curing's like gardening...I love the anticipation of it.'' Mario Batali, in the same article, says "This is a more cerebral process. And when you finally break it out and slice it, it's the most exciting thing.'' Maybe we should just say it's a Zen thing and leave it at that.
The best mortadella is made by hand, and you'll have to hunt it down. Here in the SF Bay Area, you can find it at Cafe Rouge or order some from The Fatted Calf.
For an appreciation on the Fatted Calf, read Laurel Miller's article from the Oakland Tribune.
Matt and Ted Lee wrote about the house-cured meat trend back in 2002 in the NY Times
Read about LA Times writer David Shaw's visit with the Michaelangelo of Meat, Dario Cecchini of Tuscany.