I've spent half a century (yikes) writing for radio and print—mostly print. I hope to be still tapping the keys as I take my last breath.

Some foods such as developing duck embryo (balut), crickets fried in banana leaves, and Spam require courage and inebriation, probably both, before some of us might be enticed to eat them.

The World of Flatulence

• Pumpernickel is a dark rye bread originating in Germany. Let's turn to Random House for the etymology of the name: “The word was originally used in German as an insulting term for anyone considered disagreeable. Its elements are pumpern 'to break wind', and Nickel 'a goblin; devil; rascal', originally a nickname from Nicholas. Pumpernickel, in other words, literally means 'farting bastard.' ”
• Bubble and squeak is one of the more exotic of Britain's culinary gifts to the world; it's a fry-up of mashed potato and cabbage. The origin of its name is unclear but there are those who connect it to the tendency of cabbage to produce intestinal gas.
• Nun's farts, or pets-de-nonne in French from whence the dish originates, are small pieces of fried pastry balls sprinkled with sugar. In other places, they are known as “Spanish farts” or "whore's farts.” However, the language police have intervened and these delicacies are known among the more sensitive ranks of society as “nun's puffs.”

Bugs and Creepy Crawlies

• Wasp crackers: Known as jibachi senbei in Japan, they are made with rice flour, eggs, and a few other ingredients, including wasps. The wasps are a very high source of protein and they don't sting. But still. On assignment for Sora News 24, Steven Le Blanc reports that “Crackers filled with wasps aren’t that bad at all, but they aren’t very good either . . . when a wing or a leg got stuck between my cheek and gums it wasn’t the best feeling in the world.”

• Deep-fried tarantula spiders: If you're not ready for wasp crackers, how about deep-fried tarantula spiders? Cambodia is where you'll find them, and all adventurous foodies seem to end up at the Romdeng Restaurant in Phnom Penh. For about $6, diners get three or four of the critters, battered and deep-fried. Most diners refer to conquering the yuck factor by chomping on the legs first and then going in for the body. Flavour? Well, it doesn't taste like chicken. Here's the Australian Broadcasting Corporation's Zoe Osborne, “The abdomen is slightly bitter because all the organs remain inside but the eggs themselves are surprisingly tasty. The rest of the flesh tastes mainly of the spices it was fried in.”
• Mopane worms: These are not worms but caterpillars; however, that doesn't make them any more appealing to the eye. They are about four inches long, with bands of red, black, and cream, and spiky like most caterpillars. Found only in southern Africa, they eventually become Emperor moths, that's if they don't get eaten first. Problem Masau (from Culture Trip) tells us “Mopane worms can also be added to a stew, boiled to soften them up, or simply eaten raw and fresh off a tree.” According to a YouTube video, mopane worms do, in fact, taste like chicken.

More Ill-Named Treats

• Buttock tongue: Take the hind quarters of an ostrich, wildebeest, impala or whatever the big game hunter has snagged, cut it into strips, salt it, and dry it. In Afrikaans, what you've got it's called biltong, which translates to buttock tongue.
• Cathead biscuits: In the American South, cathead biscuits are popular; buttermilk, flour, and shortening are the ingredients. The unfortunate name comes from the finished product being about the size of a kitty's noggin.
• Sawmill gravy: Also from the American South, this is a concoction of bacon or sausage, cornmeal, and milk. The story is that cooks feeding lumberjacks in the Smoky Mountains ran out of flour so they substituted cornmeal, which produced a gravy that was a bit gritty. The lumberjacks said it was like eating sawdust.
• Southern fried rattlesnake: While we are in the South, how about Southern fried rattlesnake? The recipe requires that you first catch a rattler. However, they tend to get a bit ornery, so if you are not an expert snake wrangler stick with hot dogs or a peanut butter sandwich.

• Virgin boy eggs: For centuries, there has been a springtime tradition in Dongyang, China of eating specially prepared eggs. Someone has the delightful job of visiting the city's primary schools and collecting the urine of boys under the age of 10. Eggs are then boiled in the prepubescent pee to create “virgin boy eggs.” Do you want details on how this dish is made? Of course, you don't; so here they are courtesy of Reuters: “It takes nearly an entire day to make these unique eggs, starting off by soaking and then boiling raw eggs in a pot of urine. After that, the shells of the hard-boiled eggs are cracked and they continue to simmer in urine for hours.” The egg whites turn yellow—surprise, surprise—and the yokes are green. For the people of Dongyang, the tantalizing fragrance coming from cauldrons of boiling piss is a sure sign that summer is on its way.

From the Ocean

So far, seafood has escaped our attention. This is about to change with the introduction of the aptly named stink heads.

• Stink heads: Made from fermented fish heads, this dish emits a terrifying pong. The heads of whitefish or salmon are buried in a fermentation pit, but culinaryschools.org says the “process is less about fermentation and more about rot and decomposition.” You'll find this concoction in Alaska, where it is part of Indigenous culture, and by all means chow down on it if you can suppress the gag response and have a good health care plan. Culinary Schools advises that “Alaskan healthcare professionals [are] faced with frequent and, sometimes serious, totally avoidable botulism cases.”
• Wriggling octopus: South Koreans have a fondness for seafood. They like it fresh—very fresh, as in still alive on the plate. Take sannakji, which is also known as “wriggling octopus.” If you have the stomach for it, there are videos on the internet showing folks apparently enjoying swallowing live baby octopi. Some diners report suckers sticking on the way down; this occasionally causes death and not just for the octopus.
• Spoon worms: South Korea also gives us gaebul, otherwise called spoon worms. The beast has another name on account of its shape, and there's no way of sugar-coating this, it's often called the penis fish. It is usually eaten alive and this writer refuses to go further into the erotic trap that has been set.

So, what's for dinner tonight? Something commonplace methinks—macaroni and cheese. Ah yes, cheese: The curdled secretions from a modified sweat gland.

Bonus Factoids

• Entomophagy means the eating of insects, which generally pack much more protein content than beef or pork.
• Botanically, strawberries are not berries—but eggplants and bananas are.
• The kale craze began in about 2012 and peaked in about 2014. According to The Atlantic, sales of the crinkly, leafed vegetable had dropped to their 2011 level by 2019. Apparently, lots of people tried kale but never came back for a second helping. Entirely understandable.

Sources

• “Pumpernickel.” Words at Random, August 15, 1997.
• “Japanese Wasp-Filled Crackers.” Steven Le Blanc, Sora News 24, January 30, 2015.
• “Inside Cambodia’s Tarantula Snack Trade.” Zoe Osborne, Australian Broadcasting Corporation, July 26, 2019.
• “A Brief History of Mopane Worms, a Famous Delicacy from Zimbabwe.” Problem Masau, Culture Trip, May 21, 2018.
• “Cathead Biscuits.” deepsouthdish.com, June 17, 2018.
• “Quite Interesting.” BBC, December 13, 2013.
• “The 50 Weirdest Foods from Around the World.” hostelworld.com, February 11, 2021.
• “ 'Virgin Boy Eggs' Cooked in Urine Are Spring Delicacy in Dongyang, China.” Royston Chan, Reuters, May 29, 2012.
• “The 10 Most Disgusting Foods in the World.” culinaryschools.org, undated.
• “Sannakji Is a Live Octopus Dish that May Shock the Most Adventurous Eaters.” Joey Skladany, foodandwine.com, July 11, 2016

This content is accurate and true to the best of the author’s knowledge and is not meant to substitute for formal and individualized advice from a qualified professional.

© 2021 Rupert Taylor

Comments

Shauna L Bowling from Central Florida on August 13, 2021:

Eeeewwwww! All I can say is thank you for not showing a pic of fried tarantula. Me no like spiders!

Char Milbrett from Minnesota on August 12, 2021:

ugh. Amazing what people will eat... Around my neck of the woods, people consume breaded and fried rocky mountain oysters [yeah, from castrated pigs] and raw oysters with tabasco, and, oh, I cannot go on... but some of these foods sound greatly unappealing. Some, not so bad.

Rupert Taylor (author) from Waterloo, Ontario, Canada on August 10, 2021:

Thank you Rodric. Glad you enjoy the musings of an old man.

Rodric Anthony Johnson from Surprise, Arizona on August 10, 2021:

I love this article. You provide the most interesting reads. Thanks.

I've spent half a century (yikes) writing for radio and print—mostly print. I hope to be still tapping the keys as I take my last breath.

People don’t usually eat oranges without first peeling them. There’s a reason for that; orange peel is very bitter, a flavour most people don’t like. So why is orange peel sliced up and put into marmalade?

Marmalade Is a Scottish Thing

John Keiller takes most of the blame. The story goes that sometime in the 1760s, the Dundee native happened upon a Spanish ship in port loaded with oranges. The vessel had been delayed by storms and its cargo was past its best before date, which meant that Keiller could buy loads of oranges at a good price.

But, the oranges turned out to be of the Seville persuasion; a variety that is not for eating because it is really bitter. So James enlisted the help of his wife Janet. She boiled some of the oranges with a lot of sugar and created marmalade.

Seedundee.com tells us “Obviously natural entrepreneurs, the dynamic duo capitalised on their discovery and later founded James Keiller & Son (named after their son), which became the leading manufacturer of marmalade in the world in the 19th century.”

Nice yarn, and it may even have a tiny bit of truth attached to it, but it’s mostly legend.

There’s another story of equally dubious validity that claims a physician invented marmalade as a medicine to cure Mary, Queen of Scots of seasickness. Credulity is stretched even further by the suggestion that “Mary est malade” (Mary is sick) was contracted into marmalade.

Marmalade was known about prior to the adventures of the Keiller family; however, it was they who commercialized the manufacture and sale of the preserve.

The word “marmalade” comes from the Portuguese name for the fruit quince, marmelo. A fruit preserve made from quince is noted in historical records from Ancient Greece. Over time, oranges became cheaper than quinces so there were switched in as the main ingredient, but the name didn’t change.

That said, marmalade, as bequeathed to the world by John and Janet Keiller, is now very much a British thing. So, in addition to bagpipes and haggis, the Scots also have to answer for marmalade.

Marmalade in Literature

Marmalade crops up in several places among those in the writing racket.

James Boswell wrote that when he and Samuel Johnson visited Scotland in 1773 the breakfast menu included marmalade and a dram of whisky. Some years later, Louisa May Alcott was visiting Britain and she described “a choice pot of marmalade and a slice of cold ham” as essentials.

In Evelyn Waugh’s novel Brideshead Revisited, the character Charles Ryder talked of how at Oxford University “I ate my scrambled eggs and bitter marmalade with the zest which in youth follows a restless night.”

George Orwell was less enthusiastic when he described a working class home in The Road to Wigan Pier: “Several bottles of Worcester Sauce and a half-full jar of marmalade lived permanently on the table. It was usual to souse everything, even a piece of cheese, with Worcester Sauce, but I never saw anyone brave the marmalade jar, which was an unspeakable mass of stickiness and dust.”

In The Pocket Full of Rye, Agatha Christie bumped off one of her victims with poison hidden in marmalade. There are those who might say that marmalade is a poison on its own.

We cannot leave this literary diversion without dropping in on Paddington Bear. The British children’s character from “Darkest Peru” was very fond of marmalade. His website notes that “Paddington is famous for his love of marmalade and he is particularly fond of it in marmalade sandwiches. He always carries a jar of it in his suitcase and he usually has a marmalade sandwich tucked under his hat ‘in case of emergencies’ ”.

Marmalade and Breakfast

As Boswell, Alcott, and Waugh noted, marmalade used to be an integral part of the breakfast ritual.

For so many in this hurried world, breakfast is no longer a meal; it’s a quick stop at the drive-through window of a restaurant chain where a chunk of sugary baked goods is dispensed through a window along with a cup of coffee. This on-the-way-to-work "meal” never, ever involves marmalade.

R.W. Apple Jr. enthused mightily in The New York Times about the correct way to begin the day: “Properly made marmalade (which to my taste means dark and treacly stuff, generously endowed with rough-cut strips of peel) has no peer as the crowning glory of a piece of hot buttered toast. On a morning dark and drear, it is superbly restorative, a welcome lift as the new day begins, sweet but not cloying, a ray of sunshine spooned from a jar.”

Here at Delishably we hue to the Fox News mantra of “fair and balanced,” but, unlike Fox News, we actually mean it. So, to counter the passion of R.W. Apple Jr., we give you Róisín Waters of The Irish Times on: “Were I to have my way, every last jar of this disgusting, congealing, gelatinous stuff would be thrown on to an immense fairytale fire, to burn by the side of changelings and spinning wheels.

“Marmalade, more than any substance known to man, deserves to be utterly wiped out of existence, to be vapourised, to become an unjam.”

It’s the bitter flavour that makes Ms. Waters pucker up in disgust.

Marmalade in Decline

A growing cohort is nodding in agreement with Róisín Waters, and why not? Humans are programmed to dislike bitterness. In her 2014 book Bitter: A Taste of the World’s Most Dangerous Flavor, Jennifer McLagan points out that bitterness is often a signal from nature that poison may be involved.

In today’s world, chocolate spread and peanut butter are far more popular as toast garnishes. A survey by Kantar Worldpanel tells the story of the decline in marmalade sales. It’s mostly older people that are buying the stuff; 76 percent of sales go to folk over 55. People under 28 account for just one percent of the marmalade market.

But, here’s an idea to boost sales:

The Breakfast Martini

This recipe was created in England in the 1990s.

Ingredients

• 2 teaspoons orange marmalade
• 1/2 ounce freshly squeezed lemon juice
• 1 3/4 ounces gin
• 1/2 ounce Cointreau

Method

Combine the lemon juice in a cocktail shaker, add gin and Cointreau, and garnish with orange peel.

A couple of shots of this eye-opener and you’re ready for another eight hours on capitalism’s treadmill.

Bonus Factoids

• In 1495, a Portuguese ship under the command of Farnando Yanes brought a consignment of marmelada to London. It was made with quinces and came as a solid. It was the first view Brits had of it and they used it as an aid to digestion.
• Dalemain House near Penrith in England’s Lake District is the site of the annual World's Original Marmalade Awards & Festival. A panel of experts judges marmalades that are entered from all over the world.
• Every year, Spain exports about 15,000 tonnes of Seville oranges to Britain.
• In June 2021, 9-year-old Flora Rider entered her homemade preserve in Britain's Homemade Marmalade Awards contest. She won the title of Best in Show, beating out more than 3,000 other entrants.

Sources

• “Why Is Dundee Famous for Marmalade?” Claire Merten, seedundee.com, undated.
• “This Blessed Plot, This Realm of Tea, This Marmalade.” R. W. Apple Jr., New York Times, March 27, 2002.
• “All About Paddington.” paddington.com, undated.
• “Orange Marmalade: A British Breakfast Tradition.” Fiona Young-Brown, britishfoodandtravel.com, February 18, 2019.
• “Marmalade, the Bitter Preserve of the Devil.” Róisín Waters, The Irish Times, April 12, 2013.
• “Marmalade: A Very British Tradition.” Olivia Potts, longreads.com, July 2020.
• “Demography: Shopper Behaviour Beyond the Stereotypes.” Kantar Worldpanel, April 2017.
• “Breakfast Martini.” Colleen Graham, thespruceeats.com, May 6, 2021.

This content is accurate and true to the best of the author’s knowledge and is not meant to substitute for formal and individualized advice from a qualified professional.

© 2021 Rupert Taylor

Comments

Miebakagh Fiberesima from Port Harcourt, Rivers State, NIGERIA. on May 31, 2021:

Rupert, I agree but except one thing. Say the Robot is a camera. Could not it automatically capture a pic of the Yankee stadium and the audience?

Rupert Taylor (author) from Waterloo, Ontario, Canada on May 31, 2021:

Someone still has to give the robot information before it can write a report, or will it sit in the bleachers at Yankee Stadium and report what it "sees?"

Thankfully, I'm in the twilight years of my profession so I'm not really worried about joining the ranks of automobile assemblers and bank tellers who have been displaced by robots.

I can't see how a robot could write Thompson's brilliant description of Nixon; only a human brain could create that sentence.

Miebakagh Fiberesima from Port Harcourt, Rivers State, NIGERIA. on May 31, 2021:

Just noted. If Richard Nixon had been a monster(he's according to bad journalism standards), he would hardly resign. Fact is Watergate or Nixongate is better understood than Trumpgate!

Mr. Happy from Toronto, Canada on May 31, 2021:

Thank You for that. I do agree that: "Good journalism is the best available version of the truth." I am just a big fan of tone and style.

"Richard Nixon is gone now, and I am poorer for it. He was the real thing -- a political monster straight out of Grendel and a very dangerous enemy. He could shake your hand and stab you in the back at the same time." - Hunter S. Thompson, MAY 1, 1994 - Is that not a marvelous way of describing Nixon? And an accurate one I would say. It's not journalism but it sort of is.

Anyway, I came back here to ask your opinion on "robot reporters". I had heard of this before but right now, I just watched a small report from Al Jazeera on this topic: "Rise of the machines: Swedish employees trust state to protect, retrain them" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ueytp5KhguE

The bit on the robot journalists is at minute 1:20, half-way in the report. I suppose they (the robots) would not be able to do investigative journalism but they could do the simple things like reporting on sport matches, or perhaps financial news. This is getting weird. Haha! We are living in strange times.

Thanks again and all the very best!

Rupert Taylor (author) from Waterloo, Ontario, Canada on May 30, 2021:

I was trained as a reporter; that is to write without injecting myself or my opinions into the stories I produce.

I could never emulate Hunter S. Thompson, nor would I want to. Woodward and Bernstein brought down Nixon over Watergate by solid, old-fashioned reporting; just the facts as confirmed by two or more reliable sources.

Online magazine writing allows for a bit more latitude in putting personal opinion into articles - nobody could have doubts over how I feel about marmalade after reading the article. But, my dislike of marmalade is of no consequence, so I feel comfortable expressing.

Creative writing? I can't do it. My father was a novelist and playwright, but his work was more documentary than outright dramatic invention. I know of several successful journalists who have tried fiction with embarrassing results.

I mostly try to stick to Carl Bernstein's dictum that "Good journalism is the best available version of the truth."

Miebakagh Fiberesima from Port Harcourt, Rivers State, NIGERIA. on May 30, 2021:

Hey Mr Happy, although I'm not a journalist, Rupert Taylor is. I can understand your train of thought. Nevertheless, you make my day happy,though.

Mr. Happy from Toronto, Canada on May 30, 2021:

I was thinking today, after watching a Hunter S. Thompson interview last night, what a gonzo-journalism piece from You would look like. Or, a creative writing piece from You. This because You obviously are good at journalism, that is quite evident but You see, journalism (in my opinion) lacks personal engagement from the writer, as if the journalist is God looking down and describing what She sees.

And we know why that is: we want facts and not the writer's opinion/ego influencing those facts but then again, I think there can be a balance there. One does not have to go as far as Hunter did in many of his pieces of writing, turning journalism more into fiction than journalism. It's a fine line to walk, certainly.

Okay, enough of me. You have yourself a joyful Sunday - cheers!

Rupert Taylor (author) from Waterloo, Ontario, Canada on May 29, 2021:

Many thanks Mr. Happy for joining me in the anti-marmalade cadre. It was always on the breakfast table when I was a child. Under duress to eat it I would swirl my knife around in the jar trying to load up with non-orange-peel goo for my toast. I got away with it mostly.

Mr. Happy from Toronto, Canada on May 29, 2021:

" She boiled some of the oranges with a lot of sugar and created marmalade." - One of my grandfathers would say that: "even a piece of @#$% is edible if You put enough sugar on it." - Haha, the magic of sugar.

"marmelo" - So, I did not know the English word for this. In Romanian, we call them "gutui" and one of my grandmas would make marmalade from marmelos all the time. They are not very common here in Ontario, if You've noticed. I found them probably like 3 times in nearly 30 years here. Hence, I never remembered the name in English.

"fair and balanced,” - I am not "fair and balanced" when it comes to the marmalade made from oranges. It is simply awful. I tried it on a few occasion and not pour moi.

You are a mine of information. I was bartender for almost ten years and I never heard of: "The Breakfast Martini." Thank You for sharing.

And thank You for being a great example on how to put together a proper article. I did have a good laugh at your previous comment to someone: "use of the language is not up to the standard needed. Check out the Learning Center...". My last piece of writing was on this topic, so your timing with the comment was impeccable (just regarding me).

All the best!

Miebakagh Fiberesima from Port Harcourt, Rivers State, NIGERIA. on May 28, 2021:

I like the home made Marmalade and prefer them to the factory products. But moderation is the rule. More so, I agree to the whole of the later point.

Linda Crampton from British Columbia, Canada on May 28, 2021:

I love marmalade and have done so since my childhood. I enjoyed reading your article and learning more about it.

Peggy Woods from Houston, Texas on May 28, 2021:

I guess I fit the demographics of people who enjoy eating marmalade. Reading your article was so informative and enjoyable.

Cheryl E Preston from Roanoke on May 28, 2021:

Great read. I was not aware of these facts about Marmalade.

I've spent half a century (yikes) writing for radio and print—mostly print. I hope to be still tapping the keys as I take my last breath.

Have you ever wondered about the origins of hot pepper sauce? Of course you haven’t; so here’s the story. It’s really quite interesting. Tabasco Sauce is made from a pepper called―drum roll please―the Tabasco pepper. It originates in the Mexican state of―another drum roll―Tabasco.

The Home of Tabasco Sauce

Avery Island lies deep in southern Louisiana. It isn’t really an island though; it’s 2,200 acres (890 hectares) of higher ground surrounded by wetlands. Lousianatravel.com tells us that the island “sits atop a deposit of solid rock salt thought to be deeper than Mount Everest is high.” It takes its name from the Avery family that owns it.

In 1849, the businessman and politician Colonel Maunsell White had a visitor at his Deer Range Plantation near New Orleans. This visitor wrote “I must not omit to notice the Colonel’s pepper patch, which is two acres in extent, all planted with a new species of red pepper, which Colonel White has introduced into this country, called Tobasco red pepper. The Colonel attributes the admirable health of his hands [i.e., slaves] to the free use of this pepper.”

Using an earlier misspelling of the pepper, the Colonel was making and selling his Concentrated Extract of Tobasco Sauce.

Believing in the therapeutic value of Tabasco peppers, the colonel distributed seeds to his friends. One of the recipients was Edmund McIlhenny who had married into the Avery family.

However, the official history of Tabasco Sauce from the company that makes it neglects to mention the contribution of Col. White. It simply says “A food lover and avid gardener, Edmund McIlhenny was given seeds of Capsicum frutescens peppers that had come from Mexico or Central America.” That’s a little bit naughty.

McIlhenny, a banker by trade, saw potential in making a hot sauce and he perfected the recipe between 1866 and 1868. The first batch of sauce numbered 658 bottles that sold for a dollar each. Today, annual sales top 50 million bottles.

The Allure of Hot Peppers

A lot of people like hot, spicy food. I have a friend who sloshes Tabasco Sauce on bacon and eggs; he’s otherwise nearly sane.

With Tabasco he’s getting what the experts call a hot pepper. Heat is measured by the Scoville Scale, developed in 1912 by pharmacist Wilbur Scoville. Tabasco Sauce clocks in at between 2,500 and 5,000 Scoville Heat Units (SHU). That’s about the same potency as Jalapeño peppers.

But, a person with masochistic tendencies can take a chance with survival by chomping on a Naga Viper pepper (1.3 million SHU) or the Carolina Reaper pepper (2.2 million SHU). There are disquieting videos on the internet of folk with judgement issues trying these and fairly quickly regretting the decision.

The Making of Tabasco Sauce

In the wild, Tabasco peppers deliver a mouth-numbing 30,000 to 50,000 SHUs.

Fortunately, the makers of the condiment take mercy on consumers and dilute the pungency with distilled vinegar.

The peppers are grown in several countries in Latin America and southern Africa. After they are picked they are ground up, mixed with salt, and fermented for a month.

Then, the mash is shipped to Avery Island where it is packed in re-purposed bourbon whisky barrels and left to age for three years. The steel hoops on the barrels have to be replaced with stainless steel because the acidity of the mash corrodes the original bands, telling us it’s pretty ferocious stuff.

Vinegar is added and a further month of maturing takes place before bottling. Tabasco peppers only account for about 20 percent of each bottle of sauce.

A Sincere Form of Flattery

The success of Tabasco Sauce brought others into the trade. Let’s call them competitors because copycats is a kind of ugly word. The website hotsauce.com features “hot sauces from around the globe with over 120 brands of hot sauces, fiery foods and seasonings to choose from.”

Among the offering are Spontaneous Combustion, Bone Suckin’, or Whoop Ass; all in the 50,000 to 250,000 SHUs, range.

For some folk, these choices are thought to be too tame; these macho types want something that will take the paint off a battleship.

This is where we meet Blair Lazar, who invented his “Death Sauce” as a way of clearing his bar of drunks at 2 a.m. Eat four of Lazar’s Death Sentence wings and the lushes were told they could stay. It worked a treat and emptied the pub on time. You can now buy Death Sauce 2 AM on the open market; we’re talking 900,000 SHUs.

But, even Death Sauce consumers might still hear the word “wuss” spoken about their choice of hot sauce.

The sauces with the most torrid bite all have names that speak of imminent gastrointestinal calamity to follow:

• Meet Your Maker Retribution Sauce checks in at five million SHUs;
• Get Bitten Black Mamba Six Hot Sauce offers six million SHUs, and finally,
• Mad Dog 357 No. 9 Plutonium at nine million SHUs.

Remember where this all started with Tabasco Sauce described as being “hot” at just 2,500 and 5,000?

Bonus Factoids

• During the Civil War, the Avery family left their home and took refuge in San Antonio, Texas. They returned to find that Union soldiers had ransacked their home, but the pepper patch was yielding a healthy crop.
• The annual Fiery Foods Show is held in Albuquerque, New Mexico. The show offers more than 1,000 different products.
• They held a “world’s hottest chilli” contest in Edinburgh’s Kismot Indian restaurant. The 2011 competition featured the “Kismot Killer Curry.” Two contestants ended up in hospital in serious distress. The winner gulped down four bowls of the curry and ran outside to vomit; apparently, this was not a violation of the rules.

Sources

• “Tabasco Peppers: All About Them.” Michael Hultquist, Chili Pepper Madness, December 17, 2020.
• “Was Col. Maunsel White the True Originator of Tabasco Sauce?” Roger M. Grace, Metropolitan News-Enterprise, July 15, 2004.
• “The History of Tabasco Brand.” tabasco.com, undated.
• “The Surprisingly Interesting History and Production of Tabasco Pepper Sauce.” Camper English, alcademics.com, August 21, 2012.
• “The World’s Hottest Hot Sauces.” Taylor Rock, the dailymeal.com, December 20, 2019

© 2021 Rupert Taylor

Comments

Miebakagh Fiberesima from Port Harcourt, Rivers State, NIGERIA. on April 29, 2021:

Dud, then you know well the proof is in the eating. Try it out mildly, or try 'meet your Make'r! LOL!

Alexander James Guckenberger from Maryland, United States of America on April 28, 2021:

This makes my mouth water.

Shauna L Bowling from Central Florida on April 28, 2021:

I don't like hot-spicy foods, either, Rupert. But a couple of dashes of Tabasco can liven a dish without assaulting the taste buds. Admittedly, I don't use it often, but every now and then it has a role to play.

Rupert Taylor (author) from Waterloo, Ontario, Canada on April 28, 2021:

Time to fess up. I'm not much of a fan of Tabasco. I like my food devoid of artificial flavours, that's why I put a dollop of HP sauce on most things. Tee hee.

I find that hot, spicy food assaults my taste buds to the point that they go to sleep. Of course, that would be a good time to ingest beets, which I hate.

Shauna L Bowling from Central Florida on April 28, 2021:

I, too, always have a bottle of Tabasco in my fridge or pantry. A few drops go a long way and I like the flavor much better than red pepper flakes.

My dad puts Tabasco on everything from clams to fried chicken to eggs. That's probably why, at 83, he's so healthy. Heat does the body (and metabolism) good.

I was unaware of the history of Tabasco. The fact that it's called "McIlhenny's Tabasco" seems a tad unfair. At least give Colonel White some credit, Edmund!

Peggy Woods from Houston, Texas on April 28, 2021:

I knew some things about Tabasco sauce, but you filled in other details that I did not know. We always keep Tabasco sauce in our pantry. I love what it does to perk up the flavor of some dishes.

Miebakagh Fiberesima from Port Harcourt, Rivers State, NIGERIA. on April 28, 2021:

Rupert, pepper are a unique spice that add flavour to food and drinks. I add the natural element a little even to fruits like avocado, a cup of black tea. I'm ready to meet my maker but not prepare to go yet via, the SHU way. Who wants to untimely? Another interestingly article from your stable. Informative and educative. Thanks for the read.

Louise Powles from Norfolk, England on April 28, 2021:

That was REALLY interesting to read! I love Tabasco sauce but never thought about the history of it!

I've spent half a century (yikes) writing for radio and print—mostly print. I hope to be still tapping the keys as I take my last breath.

Fruit Named After a Certain Body Part

The medlar fruit is said to taste a little like apples with a hint of cinnamon. It was highly popular in the Middle Ages, a time when earthyness was common in the language. So it was that the people looked at the fruit and saw a resemblance to a certain body part, specifically the anus; the fruit became known as the “open arse.” (The spelling is British and correct, whereas the American spelling of “ass” is incorrect because it actually refers to a member of the horse family).

There, it’s been said.

Surprising Seed Find

Let’s visit Eschern in northeastern Switzerland. It’s 2010, and a team of archaeologists is excavating what was called Tasgetium during the Roman occupation almost 2,000 years ago.

Archaeologists get to do a lot of fun things such as poking about in ancient cesspits. They do so because the contents can reveal a lot about social customs and what people ate. It was while excavating the Roman midden in Eschern that researchers from the University of Basel found something unusual―19 seeds that nobody recognized.

It turns out they were from medlar fruit that “is now so obscure, it can baffle even professional botanists (BBC).” We can unbaffle those boffins by turning to Economic Botany for some useful terminology. That’s where we find that the fruit is known in France as la partie postérieure de ce quadrupede (the posterior part of this quadruped), cu d’singe (monkey’s bottom), cu d’ane (donkey’s bottom), and cul de chien (dog’s bottom).

Shakespeare used an Anglicized version, open arse, in Romeo and Juliet, while D.H. Lawrence went with “autumnal excrementa” in a poem. How delightfully lyrical.

The Travels of Medlars

The plant is native to Western Asia and the Middle East and that’s where the Romans found it when that area was part of its empire.

They brought it to Europe enabling those lucky archaeologists to find the seeds in a Swiss outhouse almost two millennia later.

The tree likes warm summers and mild winters so it fared pretty well as far north as southern England. It can grow to eight metres (26 feet) tall but mostly it’s more shrub-like. In the spring, the plant is covered by five-petal white flowers, the precursors to the fruit that appears later in the year.

Eating Medlars

England’s Henry VIII was a man of massive appetites, but it seems he wasn’t over fond of getting his seven to ten servings a day of fruits and veggies. A dedicated meatatarian was Henry; chowing down on a haunch of venison was his style rather than eating a salad. That said, Henry had medlars planted at Hampton Court, so it seems he at least ate this fruit.

However, you can’t just go into the orchard, pick a medlar fruit, and start munching on it. They are hard and bitter and can make a person sick. But, after they’ve been left to soften for a few weeks they are edible; this is where we meet the term “bletting.”

Food columnist Nigel Slater explains that after he harvests the fruit from the tree in his garden he leaves the crop “in a cool place for a few weeks . . . Once their skins are purplish-black, their flesh is soft and they smell slightly ‘winey’, they are ready.” This is the process of bletting, which is, perhaps, a less distasteful word than rotting.

The decaying process turns the astringent fruit into a sweet one with a complex flavour

At this point, the squishy fruit pulp can be eaten raw or made into a jelly that goes well with meat, especially game.

Why Are Medlars Rare Today?

There’s that rotten fruit thing that turns off a lot of people. Even in the heyday of medlar popularity there were some who refused to test its enticing flavours. One anonymous gourmet from the medieval period opined that “the medlar is not . . . worth a turd until it’s ripe, and then it tastes like shit.”

Today’s consumers find the fruit is too much of a fiddle to compete with the convenience of apples, bananas, oranges, and the like. Back in the days when rich folk had kitchen staff with the time to go through the process of making medlars edible they were readily available.

Also, picking medlars is best done in December and few people are motivated to be out in cold, inclement weather plucking open arses from branches; cutting up a fresh pineapple in a warm kitchen has far greater appeal.

The decline in popularity has led to a decline in availability. You will never find medlars in the fruit section of Piggly Wiggly or Tesco. The only chance of snagging some is from someone who has a medlar in their garden or, rarely, at a farmer’s market.

However, if you go to places such as Iran, Turkey, Georgia, and Azerbaijan you’ll be able to pick up the fruit in many markets.

Some people are working to revive the medlar from obscurity in Europe. One of them is Jane Steward who has planted an orchard of medlars in England. She produces medlar jelly for sale in specialty stores.

Jane Steward Medlar Conservationist

Bonus Factoids

• The Colorado Orange apple was thought to be extinct until a couple, Addie and Jude Schuenemeyer, found a tree in 2017. The apple had fallen out of favour with the public when the red delicious hit the market in 1900. The Schuenemeyers have propagated several trees and given specimens to farmers to grow.
• According to Germany’s Federal Office for Agriculture and Food, three quarters of the vegetables grown between 1836 and 1956 have become extinct.
• The Svalbard Global Seed Vault in Norway “holds more than 1,000,000 samples, originating from almost every country in the world.” The aim is to safeguard the genetic biodiversity of the plant world against collapse.

Sources

• “First Evidence of Mespilus Germanica L. (Medlar) in Roman Switzerland.” Britta Pollman and Stefanie Jacomet, researchgate.net, January 2011.
• “The Medlar (Mespilus Germanica, Rosaceae) from Antiquity to Obscurity.” John R. Baird and John W. Thieret, Economic Botany, September 1989.
• “Nigel Slater on... Medlars.” Royal Horticultural Society, undated.
• “The Forgotten Fruit that Looks Like an Anus.” Anne Ewbank, Atlas Obscura, January 16, 2018.
• “The Forgotten Medieval Fruit with a Vulgar Name.” Zaria Gorvett, BBC, March 25, 2021.
• “Medlars: the ‘Open Arse’ Fruit that Could Be Making a Comeback.” Julia Platt Leonard, The Independent, June 30, 2017.

© 2021 Rupert Taylor

Comments

Viet Doan from Big Island, Hawaii on April 17, 2021:

I have learned something new today, thanks Rupert! To me this unusual fruit looks like a large rose hip. I'm curious about its taste and really want to see the tree in person.

Mr. Happy from Toronto, Canada on April 14, 2021:

I have never seen this fruit before. Thank You for bringing it up. I always enjoy learning about food.

Great article as usual - cheers!

Peggy Woods from Houston, Texas on April 14, 2021:

What an interesting article about this fruit that is less well known today. Biodiversity is important to keeping the world's food supply intact. It is good that some efforts are ongoing to do that.

I've spent half a century (yikes) writing for radio and print—mostly print. I hope to be still tapping the keys as I take my last breath.

Fake Food Is Big Business

Parmesan cheese, olive oil, Parma ham, spices, scallops, and many other foods are targets for swindlers. A favourite tactic is to sell cheap knock-offs as the genuine brand. Sometimes, products are adulterated with inexpensive additives, whereas others are deliberately mislabelled.

The government of Canada says, “Globally, all forms of food fraud are estimated to cost the global food industry between $10 and $15 billion per year, affecting about 10 percent of all commercially sold food products, according to the U.S. Grocery Manufacturers Association.”

Fake Parma Ham

For 2,000 years the city of Parma in Italy’s Emilia-Romagna region of northern Italy has been famous for its ham, known in Italian as prosciutto. The genuine article can only be made in a small area whose micro-climate is conducive to production.

It has protected status under the European Union and can only carry the name Parma ham if it is made using traditional methods within a designated area. The ham can only be made with meat from 100 percent Italian pigs, and it takes at least a year to air-cure a Parma ham, so it is expensive.

It is a business worth €750 million ($892 million) a year and so has attracted crooks who want to take a slice of the money.

In 2015, Italian police swooped in on a location near Naples where they found pork from Poland being labelled Parma ham. A couple of years later, a company was charged with importing pig sperm from Denmark to create leaner meat to sell under the Parma label.

Seafood Scams

Consumers are most likely to run into food fraud when buying fish. According to the New Scientist, “On average, 30 percent of fish sold in shops and restaurants globally is wrongly labelled, with as much as half misdescribed in some places, according to a 2018 review.” Other studies say the fraud amounts to almost half the fish sold.

Scallops are expensive so they are a target for scam artists. The trick is to take a fish such as skate, or shark and cut circular plugs out of the meat―et voila! Scallops.

Halibut and other premium fish attract the cheats. In 2019, New York’s Attorney General, Letitia James, released a report of seafood swindles. Slate’s Manny Howard commented that “43 percent of the time, when premium priced fish—like grouper, cod, halibut, striped bass, and white tuna—fetching between $19 and $29 per lb. is purchased, inferior varieties farmed in foreign countries with very little or no regulatory oversight, costing as little as $3 per lb., is substituted by the retailer.”

When a fillet turns up on your plate under a lemon dill sauce it’s next to impossible to tell whether you are dealing with a piece of halibut or a fillet of tilapia.

Herb and Spice Swindles

Most garlic powder comes from China. In 2017, much of the Chinese garlic crop was damaged by bad weather, but the supply of dried garlic never declined. It turns out the garlic powder was stretched out with calcium.

Real saffron is hideously expensive, from $2,000 to $10,000 a pound, so it’s hardly surprising that the real McCoy rarely shows up in spice racks. Someone has to pick the stamens of 4,200 crocus plants to create one ounce of saffron. So much cheaper to slice up onion into thin threads and dye it orange; the rubes won’t spot the difference.

Apparently, even bog-standard herbs and spices attract the attention of crooks. If your cinnamon comes from Sri Lanka (Ceylon) it’s likely to be the real thing; if it comes from China or Vietnam it probably isn’t. The most common substitute is ground coffee husks.

The experts say look for “Ceylon” on the label to find the proper goods. (Of course, the folk in Guangzhou Province would never dream of labelling their “cinnamon” as coming from Ceylon).

The people at Bon Appétit say “Ground black pepper is another item, like ground cinnamon, that is practically inscrutable in powder form. Researchers have found papaya seeds, juniper berries, pepper stems, and chaff all lurking in what claims to be black pepper.”

False Vinaigrette Dressing

Add three parts olive oil to one part balsamic vinegar and you’ve got the foundation of vinaigrette dressing, but you likely haven’t made it with pure, unadulterated ingredients.

On Epicurious, food writer Janet Rausa Fuller tells us there’s a lot of jiggery-pokery in the olive oil supply chain: “olive oil extracted in one country is often shipped to another, usually Italy, and then blended with olive oils from yet other places before being bottled and shipped off again.” And, along the way lower-grade oils such as soybean are often introduced.

Doctored olive oil has been around since the time of the Roman Empire and those in the know say it’s pervasive today. In 2016, under Operation Mamma Mia, Italian police seized more than 2,000 tonnes of fake olive oil worth €13 million ($15.5 million). The cops say Italy has a “vast and proven system of fraud in the olive oil sector.”

The balsamic vinegar in our salad dressing is also likely to be bogus. The authentic vinegar can only be made legally from seven grape varieties and must age for at least 12 years in cherrywood or chestnut casks. So, there are lots of scoundrels happy to take short cuts for a quick and dirty profit.

The villains use inferior grape must (skins, seeds, and stems) and add brown sugar or caramel. Those busy Italian police grabbed 9,000 tonnes of low-grade must be earmarked for high-priced balsamic vinegar in 2019.

Fake Parmesan Cheese

Once your salad has been tossed in our not-so genuine vinaigrette dressing you might want to grate some wonderful Parmesan cheese on top. Sorry, but you are likely to be ripped off here as well.

Just as with Parma ham, Parmigiano-Reggiano can only carry that name if it has been made under strictly enforced, traditional methods with a small geographic area near Modena, Italy.

However, in North America there is no legal protection accorded the word Parmesan. As a result, a host of poor imitations are on the market labelled Parmesan cheese.

In 2012, people from the Food and Drug Administration swooped on a cheese factory in Pennsylvania. They “found that the cheese it was selling as ‘100% grated Parmesan’ was actually cut with fillers like wood pulp and contained exactly 0% real Parmesan cheese, using instead cheaper varieties like Swiss and cheddar” (foodbeast.com).

Nicola Bertinelli is president of the Parmigiano-Reggiano Cheese Consortium, which works to protect the brand. She estimates the phony Parmesan trade rakes in about $2 billion a year. That’s about 15 times the annual export of the genuine stuff.

Urban Myths About Food

There are many urban myths about food that make the rounds on the internet that aren’t true. A sampling:

• Eating carrots does not help you see in the dark.
• Gum doesn’t take seven years to digest. It is largely indigestible and passes through heading for the sewage treatment plant in the traditional fashion.
• Watermelon seeds do not grow in the stomachs of people.
• Bacteria can invade any food in milliseconds so the idea that food dropped on the floor is safe if picked up within five seconds is nonsense.
• Stomachs do not explode if Coca-Cola and Mentos are consumed at the same time.
• You can’t swim within an hour of eating. Yes you can―there’s no connection between eating and cramps.
• Finally (gross out alert!), there is no evidence that the rectums of pigs have been substituted for calamari.

Sources

• “Food Fraud.” Government of Canada, November 24, 2020.
• “Italy’s Food Police Bust Polish Ham Scam.” Patrick Browne, The Local, June 29, 2015.
• “Bogus Fish Is Everywhere; Here’s How You Avoid the Worst of it.” Manny Howard, Slate, January 26, 2019.
• “The 15 Most Common Counterfeit Foods—and How to Identify Them.” Belle Cushing, Bon Appétit, February 4, 2014
• “Seven Ways to Tell If Your Olive Oil Is Fake.” Janet Rausa Fuller, Epicurious, May 25, 2017.
• “Grapes of Wrath: Italian Police Target Fake Balsamic Vinegar Fraud.” Lorenzo Tondo, The Guardian, March 9, 2019.
• “Most American ‘Parmesan’ Is Fake: How to Tell if Yours Is Legit.” Danette St. Onge, foodbeast.com, June 21, 2019.

This content is accurate and true to the best of the author’s knowledge and is not meant to substitute for formal and individualized advice from a qualified professional.

© 2021 Rupert Taylor

Comments

Rupert Taylor (author) from Waterloo, Ontario, Canada on March 13, 2021:

Yes, I figured that out. My riposte was poorly worded.

Shauna L Bowling from Central Florida on March 12, 2021:

Rupert, the potatoes aren't eaten, they're "staged" for camera purposes.

Rupert Taylor (author) from Waterloo, Ontario, Canada on March 12, 2021:

I don't imagine mashed potato flavoured ice cream would be a big seller.

I think the coffee husks are added to some real cinnamon to extend it. So there'll be some cinnamon flavour but not as much as you pay for. That's a guess because it didn't come up in the research.

Saffron? I don't move in circles where the real thing is served. I always assumed it is used more as a food colouring than a flavouring.

Shauna L Bowling from Central Florida on March 12, 2021:

I've heard about the scallop cheat, but wasn't aware of most of the others.

Thinly sliced onions died orange to mimic saffron? That doesn't make sense. Saffron doesn't taste like onions, so how do they get away with it?

Actually, the cinnamon and pepper fakes surprise me as well. I've never tasted a ground coffee husk (or maybe I have!), but how does that mimic cinnamon?

Interesting article, Rupert. I was just reading about advertising hacks to make food look good in commercials or print ads. For instance, to achieve that luscious cheese pull in pizza commercials, craft glue is mixed with a small amount of cheese and allowed to set until it resembles the ooey-gooey stuff we all love. Another is the use of shaving cream in place of whipped cream because it doesn't loosen under studio lights. And those perfect scoops of ice cream? Not ice cream at all because it melts. It's actually mashed potatoes!

I'll be back to watch the videos. I'm at work right now and can't get away with it at the moment. :-)

Peggy Woods from Houston, Texas on March 12, 2021:

It is a shame that greedy companies substiitute inferior products under premium product names.

I've spent half a century (yikes) writing for radio and print—mostly print. I hope to be still tapping the keys as I take my last breath.

It’s said that 97 percent of American homes have bottles of ketchup in them, and that 60 percent of that condiment is made by Heinz. But, today’s sauce can trace its origins back hundreds of years to when it was made with the fermented innards of fish. Yum, yum.

The Origin of Ke-chiap

According to Stephanie Butler (of History.com) soybeans, fish guts, and bits of discarded meat were mashed up and used as a cooking sauce in Southeast Asia. No tomatoes came anywhere near the mixture.

In the local dialects of the Zhangzhou and Guangzhou regions of China, this concoction was called ke-chiap (various other similar spellings are offered). The delicious confection found fans in Vietnam and Thailand, and then made its way down the Malay Peninsular to Singapore.

Food historian Ken Albana (of The Conversation) writes that’s “where British colonists first encountered what locals called ‘kecap’ in the 18th century. Like soy sauce, it was deemed exotic and perked up what was a comparatively bland British cuisine, such as roasts and fried foods.”

Not known for being adventurous cooks at the time, nonetheless the British started to tinker with the recipe using mushroom and pickled walnuts.

Other versions of “ketchup” included oysters, white wine, lemon peel, and spices, and there was one made with anchovies and elderberries.

But, still no tomatoes.

Tomatoes Join Ketchup

This is where we meet James Mease, a horticulturalist living in Philadelphia. In 1804, he mused that “Love Apples” (tomatoes) made “a fine catsup.” But, it wasn’t until 1812, that he published the first recipe for catsup/ketchup. And that really marks the birth of tomato ketchup, as we know it today.

But, the result of Mease’s inventiveness had a drawback, it went off fairly quickly. So, it had to be made and consumed in a short period of time. In 1876, H.J. Heinz found a formulation that included vinegar as a preservative and so began the production of billions of bottles of tomato ketchup, or as Heinz called it at the time “catsup.” He changed it to ketchup later.

It caught on. Here’s Lakshmi Gandhi of National Public Radio: “An 1891 issue of Merchant’s Review boasted that ketchup was the ‘sauce of sauces’ and, five years later, The New York Tribune declared that tomato ketchup was America’s national condiment that was ‘on every table in the land’.”

Tomato Ketchup Ingredients

Each manufacturer has their own recipe that, understandably, they are reluctant to share with the world.

Obviously, there are what Heinz calls “red ripe tomatoes.” Myrecipe.com lists other ingredients that are included in ketchups, “distilled vinegar, high fructose corn syrup, salt, onion powder, spice, [and] natural flavor.” Of course “spice” and “natural flavor” can hide a multitude of mysteries.

Rose Costello (of The Irish Times) points out “There’s a lot of sugar too, however, at almost 23 percent of the gloop that comes out of a standard jar.” There’s plenty of salt as well―190 milligrams per tablespoon, or one-eighth of daily needs. Sloshing ketchup on food makes it easy to overload on salt.

Canadian Ketchup Nationalism

Leamington in southwestern Ontario, bills itself as “The Tomato Capital of Canada.” For more than a century, Heinz operated a plant that made ketchup in the town. The factory employed 740 people and bought 40 percent of the field tomatoes grown in Ontario.

In November 2013, the company announced it was closing it Leamington facility and moving production to the United States. This was going to have a devastating impact on the community of 27,000 people.

But, Heinz competitor French’s stepped in and re-opened the plant. Canadian consumers boycotted Heinz ketchup and French’s picked up a decent chunk Heinz’s market share. Canadian grocery giant Loblaws stopped carrying Heinz ketchup in the grounds there was little demand for it.

Branding experts have called the Leamington plant closing a major blunder. David Kincaid, CEO of Level5 Brand Strategy, said Heinz gave its “customers a reason to question the core value of [their] product.”

Heinz is trying to recover by building a ketchup production line in Montreal. However, it will be processing tomatoes grown in the U.S. Canadian ketchup consumers are unlikely to switch back to Heinz after what they see as the company’s shabby treatment of Leamington.

Beloved Canadian Singer Stomping Tom Connors

Bonus Factoids

• When tomatoes, native to the Americas, first arrived in Europe in the 16th century, many people believed they were poisonous.
• In 1866, the French cookbook author Pierre Blot took aim at ketchup warning that eating it would cause “debility and consumption.” He said it contained bacteria that made it “filthy, decomposed, and putrid.”
• In 1981, someone in the Reagan administration (nobody confessed to the crime) proposed having ketchup designated as a vegetable as a way of reducing the cost of school lunch subsidies. The ridicule reached such epic proportions that the proposal was dropped. Republican Senator John Heinz (he of the ketchup company) said “Ketchup is a condiment. This is one of the most ridiculous regulations I ever heard of, and I suppose I need not add that I know something about ketchup and relish―or did at one time.”
• Remember purple ketchup? Heinz also put out green, blue, teal, and orange varieties in 2000. It worked for a while and more than 25 million bottles of non-red ketchup were sold. Then, the novelty wore off and consumers returned to traditional red ketchup and the funky stuff was pulled from the product line in 2006.
• Heinz ketchup comes screaming out of the bottle at the blistering pace of 0.028 miles per hour. If a batch is found to be speedier than that it’s trashed.

And Yes, It’s Matt LeBlanc Before He Became Famous as Joey in “Friends.”

Sources

• “The Surprisingly Ancient History of Ketchup.” Stephanie Butler, History.com, August 7, 2019.
• “A Brief History of Ketchup.” Ken Albala, TheConversation.com, July 23, 2018.
• “Pure Ketchup: A History of America’s National Condiment, with Recipes.” Andrew F. Smith, University of South Carolina Press, 1996.
• “Ketchup: The All-American Condiment That Comes From Asia.” Lakshmi Gandhi, National Public Radio, December 3, 2013.
• “What’s really in Heinz Ketchup?” Rebecca Firkser, myrecipes.com, February 13, 2018.
• “What’s really in Your Bottle of Tomato Ketchup? Rose Costello, The Irish Times, June 5, 2018.
• “How French’s Ketchup Took a Bite out of Heinz.” Sophia Harris, CBC News, April 20, 2019.

© 2021 Rupert Taylor

Comments

Mr. Happy from Toronto, Canada on March 01, 2021:

"Not known for being adventurous cooks at the time" - Even now they're not. British food is not something to be excited about. "Have You tried the British breakfast?" I was asked when in England some years ago. Haha!! I just couldn't get my head around it - there's nothing spectacularly special about beans, eggs and sausage. It's decent food but not impressive in any way. That's just my rant/opinion on British food. Haha!!

"catsup" - This registered in my brain as "cat soup" ...

It's hard to believe ketchup is over 200 years old. Very interesting, as is this entire article really. You do always have amazing information dug-up. Thank You.

I am not a ketchup creature. I was born and raised in Eastern Europe, during the whole Iron Curtain thing and there was no such thing as ketchup, or even bread sometimes, haha!! But ya, I never got used to it when I came to Canada. It always seems(ed) like a cheap imitation of tomato sauce (which I make every year from roughly 70 pounds of tomatoes and it sits in jars, in the cold room, from one fall to another - like any self-respectable Italian would, although I am not Italian).

Okay, enough of me. Thank You again for a very interesting lesson! I appreciate it. All the best!

Peggy Woods from Houston, Texas on March 01, 2021:

You have given us a very interesting history of the making of ketchup. I never knew about the different colors.

Rupert Taylor (author) from Waterloo, Ontario, Canada on March 01, 2021:

To take you mind off it Linda, think about poutine-flavoured chips instead- they are, or were, a thing.

Linda Crampton from British Columbia, Canada on March 01, 2021:

You’ve shared some very interesting facts. I won’t be able to get purple ketchup out of my mind for some time!

I've spent half a century (yikes) writing for radio and print—mostly print. I hope to be still tapping the keys as I take my last breath.

Those who like a little tangy dash of savoury goodness in their poultry, fish, meat, or eggs have to thank two British chemists (pharmacists in North American parlance), John Lea and William Perrins. The two men were fiddling about with ingredients in the 1830s when they seem to have stumbled onto what has come to be known as Worcestershire sauce.

The Origin of Worcestershire Sauce

Lea & Perrins^®, the company that launched the sauce in 1835, says it originated from a request from Lord Marcus Sandys. Freshly returned from his arduous duties as Governor of Bengal, his lordship was settling into the family seat of Ombersley Court, Worcestershire. During his travels in India he acquired a recipe for a sauce he found most toothsome and he gave this to Lea and Perrins and asked them to replicate it.

The two chemists messed about with a tincture of this, a soupçon of that, and a dash of something else. The company says the chemists “were not impressed with their initial results.” The word “Blech” may well have been uttered and a barrel of the mixture was consigned to the basement.

Lea & Perrins picks up the story: “A few years later, they stumbled across [the mixture] and decided to taste the contents again. To their delight, the aging process had turned it into a delicious, savoury sauce.”

Some cast doubt on this official history by referring to it “as the story goes” or “according to company tradition.” Even more suspicious is the fact that the British Museum’s short biography of Lord Marcus Sandys makes no mention of his ever having been in India.

But, it’s a nice yarn so let’s go with it.

The Ingredients of Worcestershire Sauce

Of course, the exact recipe for the condiment is a secret known only to a privileged few. However, modern labelling rules require that the ingredients be listed. Here’s what the company says is in their brew: “Aromatic with garlic, tangy with distilled white vinegar & tamarind extract, spicy with chilli pepper extract and sweet with sugar and molasses.”

Others have reverse engineered the product and have detected everybody’s favourite pizza topping, anchovies, along with mysterious “natural flavours” and unspecified “spices.”

The flavour is what’s known as umami; this is a Japanese word that means “a pleasant savoury taste.” In The New Yorker, Heather Goldfield describes umami as “That deep, dark, meaty intensity that distinguishes seared beef, soy sauce, ripe tomato, Parmesan cheese, anchovies, and mushrooms, among other things. It hits the back of your throat and leaves you craving more.”

The public took to the sauce quickly as it gussied up the flavour of otherwise rather bland British food. Lea & Perrins had a hit on their hands so, in the best tradition of capitalism, other companies copied the original, with mixed success, in order to scoop up some of the loot.

There’s a “food media” outfit in the Philippines that taste-tested several brands of Worcestershire Sauce and went completely wine-snobbish in its descriptions.

The American Garden product is described as having a “sweet, tangy front and complex profile of spices that epitomize Worcestershire sauce—just conveyed in a more assertive light.”

Or, here’s the French’s version, “we detect allspice or clove, and the slightly grassy echo of celery seed [that] . . . flaunts a tanginess that isn’t as specifically vinegar-y but is clear and bright nonetheless, evened out with a mid-level sweetness.”

C’mon guys, get a grip; this is a condiment you’re talking about not Château Lafite Rothschild.

Uses of Worcestershire Sauce

The original manufacturer has several pages of recipe ideas. You can go full-on gourmet with Creamy Mussels Montpellier, or improve a simple comfort food by adding a couple of teaspoons of Worcestershire Sauce to a grilled cheese sandwich.

Mostly, the sauce is used as a flavour enhancer for beef, pork, poultry, and fish; brush it on while barbecuing or use it as a marinade before cooking.

Add it to soups, stews, and salad dressings for a splash of tanginess.

Alex Delany (Bon Appétit) writes that “Whether you’re braising in red wine, dropping vegetables into chicken broth, or even making something creamy like a chowder or a pot pie, the range of flavor in Worcestershire makes it a pretty versatile ingredient.”

The Bloody Mary

However, the real reason Worcestershire Sauce was invented was so it could be put into a Bloody Mary cocktail. The creators were just ahead of their time.

Harry’s New York Bar in Paris is said to be where the Bloody Mary was invented, but there are plenty of other claimants. That was supposedly in 1921 when the cocktail was known as a Bucket of Blood.

You can’t make a Bloody Mary without Worcestershire Sauce. Well, you can, but then it wouldn’t be a Bloody Mary.

The classic, no-frills, recipe is:

• 1½ ounces vodka
• ½ cup tomato juice
• Three or four dashes Worcestershire Sauce
• Juice of half a lemon

Shake together with ice and pour into a tall glass; pretty it up with a celery stick with leaves.

Of course, folk have gone bonkers messing about with this simple but good cocktail. If you must put a few dashes of Tabasco Sauce in then okay. But a strip of bacon or some beef bouillon powder? No, just no. Other sacrilegious additions are horseradish sauce, gherkins, and shrimp.

But, every recipe, even the abominations, includes Worcestershire Sauce.

Bonus Factoids

• Authentic Worcestershire sauce contains anchovies so it’s off the menu for vegans. If used on meat, it also breaks Orthodox Jewish dietary laws which forbid eating meat and fish in the same dish.
• It’s known as the English sauce in Denmark (Engelsk sauce), in El Salvador and Venezuela (salsa inglesa), and in Brazil and Portugal (molho ingles).
• Lea & Perrins has long since disappeared as a company. It has passed through the hands of HP Foods, oddly Imperial Tobacco, Danone, and, currently, Heinz.
• It’s pronounced WOO-ster-sheer, not Wor-CESTER-shire as is sometimes heard in America. The double "O" is pronounced as in good of wood.

Failed Attempts at Worcestershire Sauce Pronunciations

Sources

• “The Classic Bloody Mary Recipe.” Mixthatdrink.com, undated.
• “About Us.” Lea & Perrins, undated.
• “We Try 6 Brands of Worcestershire Sauces; Can Any of Them Match Lea & Perrins?” Pepper.ph, undated.
• “You Think You Know Umami.” Heather Goldfield, New Yorker, March 19, 2015
• “What Is Worcestershire Sauce?” Peggy Trowbridge Filippone, thespruceeats.com, July 22, 2020.
• “What Is Worcestershire Sauce, Anyway?” Alex Delany, Bon Appétit, December 20, 2018.

© 2021 Rupert Taylor

Comments

Chitrangada Sharan from New Delhi, India on January 22, 2021:

Interesting and informative article about the Worcestershire sauce. I have used it sometimes. It adds good flavour. Good to know about it’s history.

Thank you for sharing.

Peggy Woods from Houston, Texas on January 22, 2021:

Thanks for the history lesson regarding Worcestershire Sauce. We always have a bottle of it in our refrigerator, along with soy sauce and other condiments. It adds terrific flavoring to foods.

Ann Carr from SW England on January 22, 2021:

Funny, I thought of that example too; great minds & all that!

Rupert Taylor (author) from Waterloo, Ontario, Canada on January 22, 2021:

Thanks Ann for the pronunciation guide. It makes sense to clarify that Woo is not pronounced like Bertie Wooster.

Ann Carr from SW England on January 22, 2021:

Informative and amusing article about Worcestershire Sauce (often referred to in Britain as merely Worcester sauce). I tend to use Soy Sauce instead, a slightly different flavour of course.

Being a linguist and aware of the vagaries of pronunciation, I'd like to further clarify that the 'Woo' of Worcester is 'oo' as in 'good' not as in 'food'. I know it's picky but, to me, it's important!

We have these counties where the 'ces' is confusing (Worcestershire, Leicestershire, Gloucestershire) but if you divide them phonetically into Worce/ster, then the two 's' sounds blend and make sense! What a complicated language we have! Hope you don't mind the digression, Rupert. The teacher in me will out, I'm afraid.

Hope you're keeping safe and well.

Ann

John Hansen from Queensland Australia on January 21, 2021:

Thank you for sharing the history of Worcestershire sauce, Rupert. I always have a bottle on hand to add a few splashes to so any things. It is very versatile, but I watched a video on how it is made and somehow wish I hadn’t..it is a little off-putting. The brand I usually use is Holbrooks, however.

DW Davis from Eastern NC on January 21, 2021:

Thanks for the history lesson. It is always interesting to learn the roots of things we often take for granted such as Worcestershire Sauce.

I am a fan of using Worcestershire Sauce when cooking pork and chicken. It adds flavor to otherwise bland meats.

I've spent half a century (yikes) writing for radio and print—mostly print. I hope to be still tapping the keys as I take my last breath.

Pizza is the world’s most popular fast food with Americans alone consuming three billion pizzas a year. The dish can trace its heritage back to the Neolithic age of 12,000 years ago, but its form has changed dramatically since then. Many creative things have been done to this simple pie in search of grabbing a larger slice of the market.

The Pie of Naples

Sometime in the later years of the 18th century, vendors appeared on the streets of Naples. In large boxes they carried flatbread topped with lard, garlic, and salt, and would sell different sized slices to customers depending on their budget. It was a cheap food consumed by poor people dressed in rags called Lazzaroni (the name came from the Bible’s impoverished Lazarus).

Then, the vendors started to get imaginative and added cheese made from horse’s milk, basil, and small fish. Tomatoes, recently arrived from Peru, were added to the pie, so it was beginning to take the form with which we are familiar today.

For many decades, the pie (pizza in Italian) was scorned by the upper classes as fit only for the common herd. Samuel Morse, he of the telegraphic code, tried pizza in 1831 and expressed his verdict in somewhat negative terms. In his view pizza was a “species of the most nauseating cake . . . covered over with slices of pomodoro or tomatoes, and sprinkled with little fish and black pepper and I know not what other ingredients, it altogether looks like a piece of bread that has been taken reeking out of the sewer.”

Pizza Receives Royal Approval

In 1861, Italy became a unified country as most of the kingdoms and states on the peninsular joined under King Victor Immanuel II of the House of Savoy. He was succeeded by King Umberto I in 1878.

Umberto and his wife, Queen Margherita, decided to tour their realm in a grand procession in 1889. Everywhere they went there were banquets and the royal couple grew tired of the French cuisine on offer. When they arrived in Naples, they expressed a desire for some local grub.

Raffaele Esposito was tasked with satisfying the regal taste buds. He was the owner and chef of a tavern known as Pizzeria di Pietro e basta cosi (Pietro’s Pizzeria and that’s enough). The story goes that he created three pizzas, but the one with tomatoes, mozzarella, and basil was her royal highness’s favourite. It was christened the pizza margherita, and is on every pizzeria’s menu today.

The royal approval changed everything. Foodies, who previously heaped contempt on the humble pizza, now found it to be a princely dish worthy of the most discriminating tastes.

Pizza Crosses the Atlantic

Italian immigrants in the late 19th century brought pizza with them to North America, but it remained largely within their community.

There is some debate about which was the first pizzeria to open in the United States but the honour is usually accorded to Lombardi’s in New York City in 1897. But, there is another claimant to the accolade of being the father of American pizzas. Filippo Milone was an Italian immigrant who started several pizza bakeries and then sold them. He may well have been behind Lombardi’s.

Pizza Takes Off in the U.S.

However, pizza remained a niche food unknown to most Americans. World War II changed that.

American soldiers taking part in the 1943 invasion of Italy discovered pizza. They like it; they liked it a lot. When they got home they wanted pizza. Hanna Miller (American Heritage) writes that “Veterans ranging from the lowliest private to Dwight D. Eisenhower talked up pizza,” and the restaurant industry responded robustly.

The pie migrated out of the exclusive hands of people of Italian ancestry, it also moved away from its national origins and became Americanized. Sliced tomatoes became a tomato paste onto which the cheese and other ingredients were piled. The garlic content was dialled back and pepperoni arrived.

In 1953, The New York Times reported that “The highly seasoned pizza with its tough crust and tomato topping is such a gastronomical craze that the open pie threatens the pre-eminence of the hot dog and hamburger.” Three years later, there were 20,000 pizzerias in America. Then, the chains began to open.

Pizza Hut is recognized as the first pizza chain. It was opened in 1958 in Wichita, Kansas, by college students Frank and Dan Carney. A less Italian background would be hard to find.

As of 2020, there were 18,703 Pizza Hut outlets around the world. Some authorities say there are 61,000 pizza parlours in the United States alone, others say it’s 76,000.

Useless Facts About Pizza

• Inexplicably, the least favourite pizza topping in America is anchovies.
• Foodler is a food delivery company. It says the most popular pizza toppings are, in order: pepperoni, mushrooms, onions, sausage, bacon, extra cheese, black olives, green peppers, pineapple, and spinach. Strangely, Brussels sprouts, sardines, and tofu didn’t make the cut.
• In the United States, pizza is consumed at the rate of 350 slices per second.
• On average, each American will eat around 6,000 slices of pizza in their lifetime.

More Useless Facts

• Sam Panopoulos, a Greek-Canadian invented the Hawaiian pizza (ham and pineapple toppings) in 1962. Some unsophisticated people think it’s an abomination.
• In 2001, Pizza Hut delivered a six-inch pizza to the International Space Station.
• Every year, thousands of people gather in Las Vegas for the International Pizza Expo, with 500 companies exhibiting their wares.
• In Salerno, Italy three chefs will come to your home and create a Louis XIII pizza for you. It has three types of caviar, seven cheeses, Norwegian lobster, and a few other exotic ingredients. Served with the most expensive booze imaginable, it serves two. Budget priced at $12,000.
• Worldwide, the pizza business is said to be worth $128 billion.
• The first frozen pizzas arrived in grocery stores in 1962, but mostly, they tasted like the packaging they came in.
• Philadelphia is home to the Museum of Pizza Culture.
• The leading day for pizza consumption in the U.S. is Super Bowl Sunday.
• One slice of a 14-inch pepperoni pizza delivers 313 calories, 32 percent of a daily sodium allowance, and 28 percent of saturated fats.

Bonus Factoids

• There are several claimants, including Yogi Berra, to the story of when being asked if the customer wanted his pizza cut into six or eight slices replied, “Better make it six, I couldn’t possibly eat eight.”
• According to tasteatlas.com, the world’s favourite pizza is a thin crust beauty known as pizza Napoletana, which “is made with just a few simple ingredients and prepared in only two variations—marinara, the basic Neapolitan pizza topped with a tomato-based sauce flavored with garlic and oregano, and margherita, which is topped with tomatoes, mozzarella, and fresh basil leaves, a delicious combination whose colors are said to represent the Italian flag.”
• The restaurant where the margherita pizza was allegedly created is still in existence in its original location. It’s now called Brandi.

Sources

• “A History of Pizza.” Alexander Lee, History Today, July 7, 2018.
• “The Pie That Conquered America - The First Pizzeria in the United States.” Pizza.com, undated.
• “American Pie.” Hanna Miller, American Heritage, April/May 2006.
• “Pizza Hut.” Yum.com, undated.
• “Top 10 most Popular Pizzas in the World.” Tasteatlas.com, October 5, 2020.
• “The Father of American Pizza Is Not Who We Thought He Was.” Jason Daley, Smithsonian Magazine, February 8, 2019.

© 2020 Rupert Taylor

I've spent half a century (yikes) writing for radio and print—mostly print. I hope to be still tapping the keys as I take my last breath.

One of the most popular foods in America, the hot dog has a long pedigree. It provides very low-cost protein—but a health food it isn’t.

Who Invented the Hot Dog?

To find the inventor of the hot dog we have to locate the inventor of the sausage.

It’s known that sausages existed almost 2,900 years ago because Homer mentions them in his epic poem The Odyssey: “As when a man besides a great fire has filled a sausage with fat and blood and turns it this way and that and is very eager to get it quickly roasted …” But, the name of the first sausage maker is lost.

Centuries of culinary twists and turns produced the hot dog of today that both Germany and Austria claim as their invention.

In 1564, the coronation of Maximilian II as Holy Roman Emperor took place in Frankfurt and the monarch had been born in Vienna. At the celebratory banquet sausages called frankfurters were served; so, one point to Germany, although the country did not exist as such at the time.

But, Maximilian was from Vienna, from which comes another word for the hot dog―wiener; so, one point to Austria. Perhaps, the provenance of the hot dog should be declared a tie.

Iconic American Food

Political unrest in what was to become Germany in the middle of the 19th century caused many people to immigrate to the United States.

By 1860, the Library of Congress notes that “An estimated 1.3 million German-born immigrants resided in the United States; 200 German-language magazines and newspapers were published in this country; in St. Louis alone, there were seven German-language newspapers.” And, there were German sausages everywhere, in particular frankfurters/wieners.

And, this is where we meet Charles L. Feltman. He was a German immigrant to America who opened a bakery in Brooklyn in 1865 and made a living selling pies to businesses at Coney Island.

Around 1870, Feltman had a vending cart made with a charcoal burner on which he cooked frankfurters. He pulled his cart along the beach at Coney Island selling hot dogs in a bun at a nickel each. They were called “dachshund sausages” and were an immediate success.

As the BBC reports, within a short space of time Feltman’s humble cart “had grown into a full-on empire spanning an entire block–complete with nine restaurants, a roller coaster, carousel, ballroom, outdoor movie theatre, hotel, beer garden, bathhouse, pavilion, and Alpine village that once hosted U.S. President William Howard Taft.”

Soon, Feltman was selling 40,000 hot dogs a day. His sons took over the business and, by the 1920s, Feltman’s was thought to be the biggest restaurant in the world.

The success of the hot dog was duly noted and hundreds of competitors arrived in the marketplace.

What's in a Hot Dog? The Ingredients Revealed

There’s a poll floating about on the internet that says that 43 percent of Americans really don’t want to know what’s in hot dogs. In some cases, it’s not very appetizing. It’s obvious that a 39-cent wiener isn’t going to be made of pork loin, prime rib, or chicken breast.

The phrase “mechanically-separated meat” crops up; this means that after meat cutters have removed the steaks and other juicy bits, the scraps are “recovered.” The BBC describes how “It is pressure-blasted off the bones by machinery and forms a reddish slurry …” Had enough yet? Want more? Okay.

Salt is added to the crimson goo followed by nitrites and nitrates. Then, comes the chemistry lesson producing ingredients with names such as autolyzed yeast extract, maltodextrin, sodium erythorbate, and hydrolyzed vegetable protein.

Each manufacturer has its own flavour recipes―garlic, celery powder, paprika, coriander, cinnamon, allspice, cumin, and nutmeg, are likely to turn up in varying concentrations.

The whole mixture is whirled around in industrial-sized food processors until it’s reduced to a paste that is then stuffed into casings. Sometimes, the casings are made from sheep’s intestines, at other times cellulose is pressed into service. But, cellulose is indigestible unless you have a complex, four-chamber stomach like a cow.

In 2015, a company called Clear Labs announced it had found traces of human DNA in some hot dog samples. Panic ensued. Had the mob found a way of slipping inconvenient rivals into the food chain? Did an inattentive worker tumble into a vat of goo unnoticed?

The New York Times attempted to put the public’s minds at rest: “There’s no evidence that hot-dog lovers are unwitting cannibals. It’s more a matter of hygiene in food production. The tiniest particles of hair, nails, and skin could show up in these tests.”

That’s really comforting to know.

Are Hot Dogs Healthy?

Checking in with dietitian Keri Glassman is a little unsettling for lovers of processed meats such as hot dogs. Ms. Glassman has a long string of qualifications related to clinical nutrition and says “Regularly eating processed meats is associated with serious health risks …” However, she stops short of saying “Never eat wieners at the ball park.”

Some of the risks she notes are:

• High levels of sodium that is connected to heart disease;
• “Research shows regularly eating processed meats (like hot dogs) raises your risk of certain cancers, like stomach, bladder, breast, and especially colorectal;” and,
• Grilling meat at high temperatures can create cancer-causing compounds.

Ms. Glassman’s is not alone in issuing warnings about frankfurters. Here’s nutritionist Leslie Beck in The Globe and Mail: “Hot dogs aren’t exactly nutritious―not even close. They’re made of processed meat and they’re loaded with cholesterol-raising saturated fat and sodium.”

Ms. Beck also advises against regular consumption of processed meats; it’s okay once in a while, just not daily or even weekly.

Bonus Factoids

• Antonoine Feuchtwanger was a sausage vendor in St. Louis in the late 19th century. In the traditional German manner, his sausages were served without buns, but customers were given white gloves so they didn’t burn their hands. But, the gloves kept disappearing, so Feuchtwanger started serving his sausages in buns. He called them “red hots.”
• The National Hot Dog and Sausage Council says that “On Independence Day, Americans will enjoy 150 million hot dogs, enough to stretch from D.C. to L.A. more than five times.”
• The name “hot dog” may have developed from rumours that in the early days the meat in them came from dodgy sources. Woof, woof?

• A polish immigrant called Nathan Handwerker was employed by the Feltman family at its Coney Island restaurant. He scrimped and saved until he had enough money to open his own hot dog stand a few blocks away from Feltman’s. Nathan’s Famous eclipsed Feltman’s and now holds an annual Fourth of July hot dog eating contest. In 2020, Joey Chestnut won the contest for the 13th time. He drove down 75 hot dogs and buns (and kept them down) in 10 minutes―a new world record. You can watch, but it’s not pretty.

Sources

• “The Germans in America.” Library of Congress, April 23, 2014.
• “How Sausages Conquered the Globe.” Igor Stramyk, The Conversation.com., October 21, 2016.
• “A Brief History of the Hot Dog.” Alexia Wulff, Culturetrip.com, November 14, 2016.
• “The Truth About the U.S.’ Most Iconic Food.” Julia Hammond, BBC Travel, June 27, 2020.
• “From the Odyssey to Kobayashi: A Brief History of the Hot Dog.” Carmel Lobello, The Week, July 4, 2013.
• “No, Hot Dogs Do not Contain Human Meat.” Jonah Engel Bromwich, New York Times, November 5, 2015.
• “Are all Hot Dogs Unhealthy?” Keri Glassman, Nutritious Life, undated.
• “IARC Monographs Evaluate Consumption of Red Meat and Processed Meat.” Press Release, October 26, 2015.
• “Why Hot Dogs Are not Exactly Man’s Best Friend.” Leslie Beck, Globe and Mail, July 1, 2013.

© 2020 Rupert Taylor

Comments

Rupert Taylor (author) from Waterloo, Ontario, Canada on July 09, 2020:

Lorelei - You are quite right to advise people to read the label. Some hot dogs do contain meat byproducts such as heart or liver, which in themselves are perfectly okay to eat. Some people just don't like the idea of them.

Years ago, I tried to interest my sons in eating veggie hot dogs. Harsh words such as "child abuse" were bandied about.

Lorelei Cohen from Canada on July 09, 2020:

Years ago a person who worked in the meat department told me how to select a "GOOD" hotdog, this meaning one without meat byproducts in it. I don't think these are allowed any longer but I still read the ingredient list on the hotdogs I purchase. I love my hotdogs over an open fire yum!

Miebakagh Fiberesima from Port Harcourt, Rivers State, NIGERIA. on July 08, 2020:

Rupert, I am not a regular process meat eater, and so, hot dogs are out of my menu. But while making homemade breads, I would use part of the dough to make hot dogs with real meat extracts. That is more nutritious. But I noted in later history of the hot dog that soya beam was process into meat flavor and used with some brands. A man to cosume 75 piece of hot dogs in less than 15 minutes is terrific! Thanks for sharing.

Nathan Bernardo from California, United States of America on July 08, 2020:

I've eaten lots of hot dogs but didn't know a lot about them. Interesting stuff.

I wonder if the name "hot dog" is some kind of reference to dachshund and the term "red hots". Just speculating.

I've spent half a century (yikes) writing for radio and print—mostly print. I hope to be still tapping the keys as I take my last breath.

A confection that takes its name from the town of Pontefract in Yorkshire, England, has a long and intriguing history. The candies are made out of liquorice, and some people actually say they like them.

The Arrival of Liquorice in England

Without the liquorice plant there would be no such thing as a Pontefract Cake. The plant is thought to have arrived in England in the 11th century, and the blame for that rests on the shoulders of monks and crusaders.

As the warrior Christians marched around the Mediterranean Sea to take the message of their peaceful and loving god to Muslims in the Holy Land they came across liquorice plants. They liked the reputed medicinal qualities of the plant and took some roots back home.

Liquorice is the English spelling; licorice is American spelling.

Another story has liquorice arriving with the Roman Conquest in 43 CE. When the Roman Empire collapsed they left liquorice plants as a fond memento of the occupation.

Liquorice seems not to have troubled the history books much until the eighteenth century when the enterprising Dunhill family rented land in Pontefract Castle to grow liquorice plants. They did so to satisfy the growing demand among physicians who were using liquorice to cure everything from constipation (it works) to cancer (it doesn’t work) with varying degrees of success. It was also used to treat sick horses, which tells us something about its potency.

The Liquorice Plant

Permit, a brief diversion into horticultural. The liquorice plant you will be unsurprised to learn is not native to Britain. Glycyrrhiza glabra, to give its formal name, is “native to dry scrubland or damp ditches in the Mediterranean region and south-western Asia.”

It seems the plant likes deep sandy soil and one of the few places where such growing condition exists is Pontefract, Yorkshire. Although, it cannot be said that location suffers from the abundance of warmth that Glycyrrhiza glabra likes.

The business part of the herb is an extract from its roots. But, just as a vine takes at least five years to produce grapes worthy of turning into wine, the liquorice plant needs five to seven years before it can deliver up its bounty.

Slowly, the commercial growing of the liquorice plant in and around Pontefract dwindled as it became cheaper to import the roots from its native region in the Middle East. Now, Heather and Robert Copley have begun growing liquorice again on their Pontefract farm.

Back at Pontefract Castle

By 1760, the Dunhill family was doing very well with its liquorice growing business and then George Dunhill had what some people think of as a brilliant idea; he mixed sugar with the liquorice-root extract and “created a chewable non-medicinal lozenge” (BBC Travel).

It seems the public loved what became called the Pontefract Cake, although it wasn’t a cake in the sense of baked flour and eggs. Pontefract Cakes are about ¾-inch (2 cm) in diameter and one-fifth of an inch (4 mm) thick; roughly the size of a U.S. silver dollar or a U.K. two pound coin. Dunhill called them Pomfret Cakes, harking back to the original Norman name for Pontefract, and they were also known as Yorkshire Pennies.

We’re like liquorice. Not everybody likes liquorice, but the people who like liquorice really like liquorice.

— Jerry Garcia, The Grateful Dead

Within four decades of George Dunhill’s flash of genius there were about 10 factories churning out the little black discs at the rate of 25,000 a day. Each was hand-stamped with a stylized replica of Pontefract Castle.

But, such is the price of progress that many of these businesses were swallowed up by bigger ones. In 1994, the original manufacturer of Pontefract Cakes was taken over by the German company, Haribo.

Business remains brisk and, in 2012, Haribo announced expansion in the shape of a new factory, three miles away in Castleford.

Pontefract Cakes’ Cousin

Charlie Thompson was a salesman working for the George Bassett confectionery company in Sheffield, about 50 miles south of Pontefract. The factory was churning out sweets that were layers of liquorice and sugary goop, mixed with coconut.

While making his pitch to a candy wholesaler, Thompson knocked over his box of samples on the counter creating a colourful display. The wholesaler looked at the assortment and placed an order for the mixture.

Back in Sheffield, Thompson was tasked with giving a name to the creation and he called Bassett’s Liquorice Allsorts. In 1989, the Bassett Company became involved in a game of corporate pass the parcel. First, it was acquired by Cadbury Schweppes, then Kraft bought Cadbury and turned itself into Mondelez International. Somewhere along the line, the Trebor and Maynard companies were involved, but with so many mergers and acquisitions it’s nearly impossible to untangle ownership.

The Allsorts are still made in Sheffield as well as in several other locations around the world and are still marketed under the Bassett brand. The same applies to Pontefract Cakes, for which there is an inexplicable worldwide demand.

Bonus Factoids

• The active ingredient in liquorice root is called glycyrrhizin, and it’s 50 times sweeter than sugar.
• In 2004, a Yorkshire woman was admitted to hospital after overdosing on Pontefract Cakes. She was eating about 200 g of the candy a day to deal with chronic constipation, but the glycyrrhizic acid in the liquorice caused her potassium level to plummet. This leads to muscle failure and high blood pressure.
• Napoleon Bonaparte was a great lover of liquorice; he chewed so much of it that it turned his teeth black.

Sources

• “Licorice in Early English History.” RJ’s Licorice, November 27, 2014.
• “Brand Fact Sheet: The Liquorice Story.” Cadbury, undated.
• “Lovely Licorice Root.” Betsy Strauch, Mother Earth Living, September/October 2017.
• “Woman ‘Overdoses’ on Liquorice.” BBC News, May 21, 2004.
• “Growing Liquorice in West Yorkshire.” Caroline Beck, Gardens Illustrated, September 12, 2017.
• “The Strange Story of Britain’s Oldest Sweet.” Mike MacEacheran, BBC Travel, July 11, 2019.

© 2020 Rupert Taylor

I've spent half a century (yikes) writing for radio and print—mostly print. I hope to be still tapping the keys as I take my last breath.

Fire destroyed a Jim Beam warehouse filled with 45,000 barrels of bourbon whiskey in July 2019, reminding us that liquor is a highly combustible substance.

The Bundaberg Rum Fire (1936)

Bundaberg is a town on the Burnett River in Queensland, Australia, and it is home of the Bundaberg Rum Distillery.

Early one November evening in 1936, the plant was struck by lightning and it started to burn. Inside were 10,000 gallons of flammable rum and other spirits that provided the fuel for a massive inferno. Drums exploded and a large crowd gathered to watch the blaze.

Miraculously, there were no deaths or injuries among the people who worked in the distillery, but there were fatalities among the wildlife in the Burnett River. Burning rum leaked into the river and covered the water from bank to bank with a blue flame.

The next day, the river banks were littered with dead fish. There were salmon, sharks, and 200-pound gropers. It’s said that every table in the district groaned under the weight of a dinner of fish marinated in rum.

Fish became the unwitting victims of a fire at the Wild Turkey Bourbon warehouse in Lawrenceburg, Kentucky. More than 17,000 barrels were aging in the building, some of it 15 years old.

Burning whiskey set nearby woods ablaze and carried on until it reached the Kentucky River, where it caused the death of more than 200,000 fish. Local people joked that happy hour was down by the river—BYOB—Bring Your Own Bucket.

The Cheapside Bonded Warehouse (1960)

A huge liquor warehouse in Glasgow was the scene of one of Britain’s most deadly peacetime fires. On the evening of March 28, 1960, a fire was reported in the building and crews rushed to the scene; in all, 450 firefighters attended.

The warehouse contained more than a million gallons of rum and whisky. Within half an hour, a huge explosion occurred, blowing out the walls of the building. Glasgow Live reports that “Tons of masonry crumbled and fell, claiming 19 lives. Whisky barrels crashed to the ground and burst into flames, sending streams of burning liquor flowing into the streets—and causing a toxic build-up of fumes inside the building.”

The fire burned out of control for hours and engulfed neighbouring buildings. It enhanced Glasgow’s reputation as “The Tinderbox City,” because of the frequency of devastating fires in the community.

The Scotsman notes that “Another fire, mere blocks away from Cheapside Street in an upholstery factory, killed 22 people who were trapped in the building.” That was in 1968 and the BBC reported in June 2018 “Sadly, it still applies more than half a century on.”

The Gorbals Whisky Flood (1906)

The Loch Katrine Distillery was in Glasgow’s Gorbals district, a place of decrepit tenements and soul-crushing poverty.

Early one November morning in 1906, one of its huge vats collapsed releasing 50,000 gallons of hot whisky. The torrent took out two more vats containing whisky in various stages of production. In total 150,000 gallons of spirits swirled through the distillery and out into the neighbouring street.

There was one fatality and a number of injuries. History does not record if anyone said, “It’s a wee bit early for me, but if it’s free I don’t mind a little road grit with my tipple.”

The distillery closed down the following year.

The Great Boston Molasses Flood (1919)

Boston, Massachusetts, was the scene of an entirely different and far more tragic distillery flood.

United States Industrial Alcohol (USIA) had a plant in the city’s north end and on the property was a huge tank that contained more than two million gallons of sugary goo from the Caribbean. The molasses was destined to be turned into munitions and alcohol for liquor.

January 15, 1919, was an unusually warm day for the time of year and, in the afternoon, the molasses tank started to groan and creak. It had done this before and management had ignored warnings that the tank was unsafe. But, this time was different.

The Boston Post said witnesses described “A rumble, a hiss—some say a boom and a swish—and the wave of molasses swept out.” The tsunami of thick syrup was eight feet high and swept through the neighbourhood at about 35 miles per hour.

The path of destruction took out utility poles, buildings, and elevated train steel supports. People and horses drowned in the glutinous tide. The death toll was 21 people, with another 150 suffering injuries. Nobody recorded the equine casualties.

Lawsuits against USIA started. The company said it was not the shoddy construction that was at fault, it was sabotaged by some dastardly Italian anarchists. After years of litigation, the company was ordered to pay the equivalent of $8 million in today’s money to the families of victims.

Bonus Factoids

• It’s whisky if describing the beverage made in Scotland. It’s whiskey, with an “e,” if it comes from Ireland or America. You’ve got to love the English language.
• Moonshine carries with it its own particular brand of danger, apart from the possibility of the still blowing up. If the illegal hooch maker is clumsy, customers get to drink methanol rather than ethanol. Here’s The Smithsonian Magazine, “Methanol poisoning is a dreadful way to go. Even if you manage to avoid death, blindness and brain damage are common in survivors.” In India in 2000, 169 people died after drinking bad liquor, and a similar product took out 20 people in the Czech Republic in 2012. It’s not called rotgut without reason.
• According to The Louisville Courier-Journal, “The bourbon industry is rough. Cut-throat competition, batches that fail after years in the warehouse and even tornadoes of fire are hazards of the job.”

Homemade Liquor Disasters

Sources

• “Great Gorbals Whisky Flood of 1906.” Ben Johnson, Historic-uk.com, undated.
• “Bundaberg Distillery Fire.” Mick Roberts, Timegents.com, January 13, 2019.
• “Cheapside Street Fire – One of Britain’s Worst Peacetime Fire Disasters Remembered.” Christina O’Neill, Glasgow Live, November 11, 2019.
• “Lost Glasgow: Cheapside Street Fire.” The Scotsman, July 24, 2012.
• “Wild Turkey Warehouse Fire Mixes Whiskey and Water in Kentucky.” The Baltimore Sun, May 11, 2000.
• “The Great Molasses Flood of 1919.” Evan Andrews, History.com, January 15, 2019.

© 2019 Rupert Taylor

Comments

Kari Poulsen from Ohio on December 08, 2019:

I never knew what the "e" in whiskey meant, now I do. I'll remember not to ever move within burning distance of a distillery.

I've spent half a century (yikes) writing for radio and print—mostly print. I hope to be still tapping the keys as I take my last breath.

Once upon a time, becoming a restaurant waiter or server was to join a profession. Back then, waiters prepared a Caesar salad or cooked a steak Diane beside your table. (Perhaps they still do in restaurants that are outside the income bracket of this particular writer.)

There was none of today’s faux friendship: “My name is Kevin and I’ll be looking after you this evening." And a waiter of the old school would never say "perfect" when you ordered the kale salad (kale salad can ne'er be perfect).

Today’s Waiters

Few people leave high school today with the ambition to become a waiter. The lack of enthusiasm for the job is probably matched only by the appeal of being a portable toilet cleaner at a music festival.

Some servers seem to be working survivor jobs waiting for a call from their agent about a juicy part in a revival of Les Miserables. Others are carrying hash from the kitchen to the table to finance their post-secondary education.

The Illinois Department of Employment Security lists some of the many "benefits" attached to being a food server:

• Part-time work of fewer than 40 hours a week (i.e., no benefits or job security)
• Weekend, holiday, and evening work
• Split shifts (e.g. from 6 a.m. to 10 a.m. or 3 p.m. to 7 p.m.)
• Remaining courteous when dealing with obnoxious customers
• Relatively low pay

Social Dominance

We’ve all seen the character in the movie who raises his hand and clicks his fingers to summon a waiter who then arrives slightly bent at the waist to indicate subservience. Please don’t do this.

Former waiter Zoe Williams writes that "Lots of people said they do a Fawlty Towers when someone’s fingers click—look under the table and say: 'Is there a dog under there?'"

Your server is a human who deserves to be treated with dignity. Your money doesn’t give you the right to be abusive towards your waiter, even if you are on a blind date with a pig or moron. Being abusive to the pig or moron is an entirely different matter, but try not to do it in the restaurant even though it might be very tempting.

If the service is poor and the food not up to par, by all means, complain, but don’t shout. And, it’s usually best to have your grumble with the manager, because your negative experience likely is not the server's fault and is beyond her/his power to change.

Melanie Morrison is a psychology professor at the University of Saskatchewan, Canada. She’s studied the customer/server relationship in restaurant settings. She says those who are rude to waiters are usually socially dominant people: "When they go into a restaurant, they can exact power," she told the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation. "They can become somebody who has been given a bit of power over a server in that moment. They can treat them in a demeaning way and be powerful in that environment because the conditions allow them to be."

To put it bluntly, a..holes will always be a..holes.

Dine and Dash

There’s a particularly low life form that eats and runs. Known by various slang terms such as "chew and screw," or "bite and bolt," these patrons set out to deliberately steal food and drink. They wait until their server is in the kitchen and then quietly leave. It’s easier if the patron is on the patio.

Different restaurants have different policies. In some, the restaurant covers the loss, while in others, the waiter is made to pay the bill. In the latter case, the staff will often chip in to help their coworker.

It can be costly. In 2013, the so-called "Champagne Bandits" stiffed a British restaurant for £520 ($627). Two bottles of Dom Perignon, a bottle of pinot grigio, scallops, and steaks all around for the party of four.

Another example involves the actress Jane Adams, who is apparently famous for something or other. She was dining at the Barney Greengrass restaurant in Beverly Hills in 2009 when she skipped out on a bill of $13.44. The waiter Tweeted about this and ended up being fired.

Outrageous Restaurant Behaviour

Rudeness and theft are actually run-of-the-mill restaurant behaviours. Of course, fights break out from time to time when well-lubricated diners decide to settle longstanding grievances. At the other end of the scale are those who try to conceal their extreme romantic attachment to one another under a table cloth.

There are folks who order their food, eat it, and then complain that it was cold, not what they ordered, or revolting. It’s a scam to get their meal for free. A family potty-training junior put a portable commode on their restaurant table so the little tyke could . . . well, you get the picture.

In the same vein, a restaurant worker posted the following: "When I worked at Starbucks and someone pooped on the floor right next to the pastry case, a perfect turd. . . . a co-worker of mine then put gloves on and picked it up in his hand and said "What do I do with it now?'" And no, the finger bowl is not a clear soup.

Bonus Factoids

Kentuckian Aaron Collins had sympathy for servers who he knew worked difficult jobs for low pay. When he died in 2012, he left a stipulation in his will that asked his family to "leave an awesome tip (and I don’t mean 25%. I mean $500 on a . . .pizza)." The family created a website to honour Aaron’s wish and seek contributions. Five years later, the Collins family left its 104th $500 tip at Sir Pizza in Lexington, Kentucky.

The legendary Edsel Ford Fong waited on tables at San Francisco’s Sam Wo’s Restaurant in the 1960s, '70s, and '80s. He became known as "the world’s most insulting waiter." His shtick was to great customers with "Sit down and shut up." One frequent customer said Fong made the Soup Nazi look like the Dalai Lama. The arrogant customer yelled at the waiter "Do you know who I am?" The alert waiter announced to the dining room the need for a doctor "there’s a gentleman here who doesn’t know who he is."

Yes, it's a young Stephen Colbert and a young Steve Carrell.

Sources

• “Food Servers: Working Conditions.” Illinois Department of Employment Security, undated.
• “Don’t Ask Your Waiter What to Order – and Other Ways to Be a Perfect Diner.” Zoe Williams, The Guardian, July 11, 2019.
• “Rude Customers: the Psychology Behind Bad Restaurant Patron Behaviour.” Victoria Dinh, CBC News, February 8, 2018.
• “33 Servers Spill Their Unbelievable Customer Horror Stories (Here’s Why They Deserve Good Tips).” Erin Cossetta, Thought Company, December 16, 2013.
• “A Kentucky Family Is Leaving $500 Tips to Restaurant Servers in Brother’s Memory.” Susanna Kim, ABC News, July 31, 2012.

© 2019 Rupert Taylor

Comments

Rupert Taylor (author) from Waterloo, Ontario, Canada on September 06, 2019:

Thanks Dora. I've never waited on table except at home where the comments from the kids were sometimes of a negative nature. "I hate cabbage," etc.

Dora Weithers from The Caribbean on September 06, 2019:

Most waiters deserve to be treated well, and those who behave contrary to our expectations are still entitled to our respect. How could some customers be so despicable? As usual, you shared some very interesting scenarios. Good read.

I've spent half a century (yikes) writing for radio and print—mostly print. I hope to be still tapping the keys as I take my last breath.

Some would say that it's a stretch to call traditional Scottish food "cuisine." It leans on the heavy side (probably to combat the chill of the weather that even the country’s tourism industry describes as “generally cool and wet”).

Escoffier chefs do not clamour for recipes for haggis or cock-a-leekie soup. There are no Italian gourmets salivating over the thought of bannock.

Here is a tongue-in-cheek tour of Scotland’s culinary delights.

Scottish Breakfast

Mum was right; breakfast is the most important meal of the day, so porridge is the place to start. For the purist, it’s oats cooked in water and salt and it should be, in the words of an actor in a commercial many years ago, “thick enough to stop a bullet.”

Non-Scots like to gussy it up with heather honey, brown sugar, and heavy cream. As an added bulwark against the relentless grey skies and wind a wee dram of single malt whisky is highly recommended.

But, if you don’t give an “Och Aye” for your health then the full Scottish breakfast is for you. This is almost identical to the artery-clogging full English breakfast with the addition of a tattie scone. This confection is mashed potatoes, butter, and salt that is fried; it is sometimes embellished with the addition of cheese.

Or, you could have kippers. These are smoked herring filled with masses of tiny bones, and utterly revolting.

Suitably fortified, you are now ready to waddle off in search of your heritage.

Scottish Lunch

You’ve spent the morning hiking through the blustery glens seeking out the grave of ancestors. The temperature is zooming up close to 50 F and the drizzle is soaking through your rain gear. (“Isn’t this fun Mildred? No, it bloody isn’t Archie.”)

Feeling a little chilled you are in need of something warming, and, lo, there is the The Clachanglootie Inn drawing you towards its smoldering peat fire.

Scotch broth is what you need. It comes in a wide variety of disguises that mostly centre on pearl barley, root vegetables, and mutton. It’s a proper rib-sticker. If the alternative on the menu is powsowdie, go with the broth. Powsowdie is a soup made by boiling a sheep’s head.

For our main course let’s order rumbledethumps; it’s what the Scots call a neck-filler. It’s a potato, cabbage, and rutabaga (gasp) casserole, given the slightest hint of flavour with the addition of cheddar cheese.

And, for dessert you can’t beat the deep-fried Mars Bar. Nothing says you’ve slipped off the diet more than caramel, nougat, and chocolate coated in batter yanked out of a bath of hot fat.

Most traditional Scottish food is designed to use things that are just about to go . . . off.

— Scott Hutchison, Scottish musician

A Whisky Interlude

After that lunch most of us would want a lie down although the more adventurous might want to visit one or two whisky distilleries. After all, there’s likely a summer tempest blowing outside.

The average distillery tour costs between £7.50 and £75 ($9-$90) and whiskyadvocate.com tells us “over 1.9 million people flocked to visit over 40 Scotch whisky distilleries open to visitors in 2017.” So, there’ll be plenty of company.

In truth, a whisky factory is not a very exciting place. There are some vats and pipes, and a whole lot of wooden barrels doing nothing but getting older. There may be some bagpipes so remember to pack earplugs.

But, if we are honest with ourselves, and we must be, it’s tasting the product we’ve come for.

With the higher-priced visits, you get to slosh down a fair amount of what in Gaelic is called Uisge Beatha, which means “water of life.” For example, Blair Athol Distillery Platinum Tour (£165/$200) includes six “drams.” There is no official sizing for a dram, but six of them are likely to cause a bit of a rumpus with motor control.

Scottish Dinner

Assuming you are still vertical after your six drams you’ll be wanting dinner, which is, of course, what you’ve been waiting for—haggis.

Sheep’s innards, oatmeal, suet, and onions boiled in the animal’s stomach; it’s served with mouth-watering mashed potatoes (tatties) and mashed turnip (neeps). What’s not to like?

I have dealt with haggis elsewhere in an honest, if sadly uncomplimentary manner. Any further mention here would be just piling on, and that’s not nice.

And now, what the Scots call le pièce de résistance—clootie dumpling. It’s flour, dried fruit, sugar, molasses, spices, and suet, because you can’t have too much suet. The whole mixture is boiled in a cloth bag, known as a cloot.

Time to round the evening off with a nightcap and there is nothing better than a Rusty Nail, which is two parts Scotch Whisky to one part Drambuie.

Now, fully loaded with stodge and liquor you are ready for bed. And just think, you can do it all again tomorrow.

A Scottish Foodie Fights Back

Bonus Factoids

• Maconochie was a Scottish stew in a can that was served to soldiers in the trenches of World War I. It was a vile concoction of carrots, turnips, potatoes, and mystery meat under a floating cap of congealed fat. Militaryhistory.org says “Maconochie was tolerated by famished soldiers, and detested by all.”
• In December 2015, Food Standards Scotland reported: “As a nation we have a high fat, high sugar, high-calorie diet—and it’s making us sick. Levels of diabetes, heart disease, and other illnesses associated with obesity are stubbornly high in Scotland, and they’ve been that way for years. At the same time, we’re failing to eat enough nutritious, healthy foods like fruit and veg, oil-rich fish, and high-fibre carbohydrates.”
• Is it “whisky” or “whiskey”? In Scotland, it’s whisky. In Ireland, America, and anywhere else the hooch is made the “e” is added to make it whiskey.
• There’s a take-out restaurant in Greenock, near Glasgow, that offers the “Crunchy Box.” For ten pounds you get French fries, fish, two sausages, two pizza slices, two hamburgers, chicken nuggets, and onion rings—all of it battered and deep-fried. The calorie count is 7,000.

Sources

• “14 Traditional Scottish Foods That Will Make You Fall For Them.” Jay, flavorverse.com, August 28, 2018.
• “What the Scottish Know About Breakfast That Americans Don’t.” Sarah Chamberlain, myrecipes.com, February 06, 2018.
• “In Numbers: How Bad For You Is a Deep-Fried Mars Bar? Alex Watson, The Scotsman, September 30, 2015.
• “The Best Scotch Distillery Tours for Every Occasion.” Jonny McCormick, whiskyadvocate.com, January 30, 2019.
• “The History of the Clootie Dumpling.” Lovefood.com, January 2, 2018.
• “The Scottish Diet: It Needs to Change.” Food Standards Scotland, December 2015.

My theory is that all Scottish cuisine is based on a dare.

— Mike Myers

© 2019 Rupert Taylor

Comments

Rupert Taylor (author) from Waterloo, Ontario, Canada on August 11, 2019:

And, I didn't even mention groats.

Nell Rose from England on August 11, 2019:

LOL! that was brilliant Rupert! I learned a lot about what my GGreats ate in Scotland, and I loved the humour. I also watched that Danny Bhoy video. Laughing so hard! Brilliant!

I've spent half a century (yikes) writing for radio and print—mostly print. I hope to be still tapping the keys as I take my last breath.

The luxury water industry presents a master class in how to separate the foolish from their money. The bog-standard bottled water companies do a good job of pumping up the price of a commodity that is nearly free from our kitchen taps.

Luxury Water Bottles Are a Waste of Money

If you are tired of having too much money in your bank account, then take up drinking Svalbarði instead of tap water. It is, claim its marketers, “harvested from icebergs freshly calved off glaciers in the remote polar region of Svalbard, Norway.” Just $90 for a 750 ml bottle, shipping is free.

The Beverly Hills 9OH2O has its “lifestyle” collection drawn from mountain springs in Northern California. A bargain at $144 a litre, but wait, there’s more. Here comes the company’s Luxury collection, Diamond edition.

It’s all about the bottle whose cap is made of white gold with 850 diamonds inlaid on it. The water is the same as in the lowly lifestyle collection, but the container jacks the price up to $100,000 a bottle.

That might be a bit out of reach for folks on minimum wages, so they should go for a more downmarket brand such as Australia’s Frequency H2O. It “is a fusion of science and art . . . Alive with the pulsations of the Universe . . . Frequency H2O is a synthesis of wisdom and evolution, as it is put through a trade secret two-stage kinetic energy process and infused with a blend of Solfeggio, sound and light frequencies.”

It checks in at $3.30 a bottle, and you get a whole litre of the stuff.

Sturt Hinton is the man behind the liquid marvel that he calls the “ultimate elixir of life.” It was given first prize as the world’s best water at 28th International Berkeley Springs Water Tasting in 2018.

Water Tasting Competition

The International Berkeley Springs Water Tasting Competition bills itself as world-renowned, so how could you not know such an event is held annually?

Those in the niche water-bottling trade drag themselves to Berkeley Springs, West Virginia, every to hear the experts pronounce on the merits, or otherwise, of water. The big guys such as Dasani and Evian don’t take part; the potential of not coming away with a gold medal would cost these companies millions in sales.

So, it’s mostly small bottlers and municipalities that send their water for judging. The panel of experts has questionable credentials, but let’s have writer Dave Stroup shed some light, “the primary qualifications appear to be having an interest in drinking water, attending an hour-long training session, and if possible, publishing a story about the event.” Stroup obliged on the last item.

These “experts” must then decide which of the samples placed before them is the best of a colourless, tasteless, and odourless liquid, based on hue, flavour, and aroma.

In 2020, it was the turn of Hita no Homare Cosmo Water from Japan to gather up the coveted Gold Medal. This blend of two parts hydrogen and one part oxygen “contains plenty of widely featured trace minerals such as ‘zinc’ and ‘organogermanium’, and is clean with almost no nitrate nitrogen. This is a gift of Mother Earth, rarely found in other places of the world.”

Of course it is.

Should I Drink Bottled or Tap Water?

Most of us in the developed world live in places where tap water is perfectly safe to drink. Although this does not normally apply if you live on a Canadian Native reserve, in Texas after a cold snap, or in Flint, Michigan.

In Canada, tap water costs less than a cent per litre. The lowest-priced bottled water comes in at 66 cents per litre. These figures are roughly similar in Australia, the United Kingdom, and the United States.

But, two-thirds of a dollar is only part of the cost, because bottling, packaging, transporting, and disposing of discarded containers add a considerable environmental burden.

Here’s some math from Moneycrashers.com: “If you buy just one $1 bottle of water each day, your annual spending on bottled water comes to $365. Getting the same amount of water from your tap would cost you less than $0.10.”

Between the two price extremes is home filtering. Faucet-mounted filters cost about $40, equivalent to about a six weeks’ supply of bottled water.

Is Bottled Water Better?

Those who spend a lot of money on bottled water will invariably say they do so because it’s better and cleaner than tap water. Not so, says Adrienne Matei of The Guardian: “The majority of American tap water is safe, as is essentially all U.K. tap water, and more closely regulated for contaminants than bottled.”

In 2017, researchers from American and French universities decided to put the claim of “betterness” to the test. One hundred subjects were given a variety of waters to rate against a 14-point scale.

No doubt you can see the results of this blind test coming a mile away: “Some subjects preferred the inexpensive tap water to any of the bottled waters, and there was no association or a weak negative association between a bottled water’s price and its rating. Finally, our subjects tried to distinguish tap from bottled water while matching the bottled waters to expert descriptions. They were no better than random chance at doing either of those things.”

The Booming Bottled-Water Market

People are shunning tap water in droves. For several years, sales of bottled water have been growing by nine-to-10 percent annually. The industry sold 437 billion litres of bottled water in 2017 worth $238 billion. Marketresearch.com says the value of sales will rise to $350 billion in 2021.

Premium bottled water is rising faster than the ordinary stuff. This is the water that claims to have a unique provenance or to be high in minerals that confer health benefits.

There’s Kona Deepwater from Hawaii that “comes from 3,000 feet below the surface, where, cold, pressure, and natural minerals combine to create naturally pure and remarkably refreshing water.” It is actually seawater that has to be desalinated and costs about $2.25 a litre.

Fiji Water comes in at about the same price point. It is allegedly “Slowly filtered by volcanic rock [so that] it gathers minerals and electrolytes that create Fiji’s soft, smooth taste.” The company behind the product modestly claims it to be “Earth’s finest water®, bottled at the source, untouched by man.”

Bonus Factoids

• One of the nations with poor access to clean, reliable water is Fiji, where more than half the country’s population lacks water that is safe to drink. Nobody knows for sure how much Fiji Water ships out of the country each year but it’s probably around 200 million litres.
• The water tasting competition is held in West Virginia. Ironically, the state’s legislature passed a bill in March 2019 that loosened regulations on the chemicals industrial companies can release into rivers and streams.
• Aquafina, produced by PepsiCo, is the top-selling brand of water in the United States. On its label are the initials PWS, which stand for Public Water Source; i.e., tap water. The company says it puts the tap water through a sophisticated filtration process.

Sources

• “The Gulp War.” Dave Stroup, eater.com, July 24, 2018.
• “Bottled Water and Energy Fact Sheet.” Peter Gleick, Pacific Institute, February 2007.
• “The Global Bottled Water Market: Expert Insights & Statistics.” The Business Research Company, February 28, 2018.
• “Bottled Water vs Tap Water: An In-Depth Comparison.” Filterbutlet.com, undated.
• “$90 for a Bottle of Melted Iceberg? Inside the World of Luxury Water.” Adrienne Matei, The Guardian, July 16, 2019.
• “Fine Water: A Blind Taste Test.” Kevin W. Capehart and Elena C. Berg, Journal of Wine Economics, February 2018.

© 2019 Rupert Taylor

Comments

Rupert Taylor (author) from Waterloo, Ontario, Canada on July 23, 2019:

Dora, I expressed the same thought this morning with friends over coffee. It's obviously way more lucrative than writing.

Dora Weithers from The Caribbean on July 23, 2019:

Can I get into the bottled water business? Had no idea of these outrageous prices. Thanks for the information.

Alexander James Guckenberger from Maryland, United States of America on July 22, 2019:

For years and years, I've said that the next big thing might be canned dirt.

Liz Westwood from UK on July 22, 2019:

Since security changes at airports regarding liquids in hand luggage, retail outlets have made money from exorbitant markups on bottled water for those on short economy flights in Europe. Not wanting to pay out on flights for expensive drinks, many opt to pick up bottles of water after passing through security and before boarding, to take on the flight.

I've spent half a century (yikes) writing for radio and print—mostly print. I hope to be still tapping the keys as I take my last breath.

A quaint custom in Dawson City, in the northwestern Canadian territory of Yukon, is to serve a drink that is not for the faint of heart, nor, probably, for the sober. In the Sourdough Saloon of the Downtown Hotel, the brave or foolhardy can order a drink that is accessorized with a preserved human toe. “Gimme another shot, Joe.”

The Sourtoe Tradition

You would think the sourtoe cocktail dated back to the Yukon Gold Rush of 1896. You can picture the scene.

Some grizzled old prospector, having severed a toe with a poorly aimed pickax, limps into a bar with a nugget the size of his fist and orders drinks for everyone. But, there's a catch, to claim their free shot they all have to kiss his still bloody digit. Too bad it didn’t happen that way.

The tradition goes back, waaaay back to 1973.

There are strange things done in the midnight sun

By the men who moil for gold;

The Arctic trails have their secret tales

That would make your blood run cold.

— Robert Service, from "The Cremation of Sam McGee"

The first toe (there have been others, more on that later) was a vintage item. It is said to have belonged to a rum runner and miner called Louis Liken.

He was smuggling booze into Alaska with his brother Otto in the frosty cold of winter, sometime in the 1920s. Louis suffered frostbite to his big toe, so, to prevent gangrene from setting in, faithful Otto removed it with a woodcutting ax. The only anaesthetic available was overproof rum.

Louis preserved his amputated appendage in a jar of alcohol in his cabin; as you would.

Half a century later, the marinated toe turned up in the possession of Captain Dick Stevenson, a man who owned many of the attributes of someone who might be called “a character.”

Capt. Dick began to plop the toe into drinks in the Sourdough Saloon and customers were encouraged to take a swallow to prove they were “True Yukoners.” The Sourtoe Cocktail was born.

The Legend Continues

The sourtoe cocktail became more formalized and fell into the possession of the Downtown Hotel. For $5 you get a shot of your favourite liquor, whether it be whiskey, gin, or Swedish glögg, (probably not glögg), and a submersed pickled toe.

The instructions are “You can drink it fast, you can drink it slow, but your lips must touch the toe.”

The successful imbiber gets bragging rights and a certificate of accomplishment. Okay, it’s not a Nobel Prize or a knighthood but, for some, modest achievements are enough.

A running tally is kept in the saloon and there are now about 100,000 “true Yukoners.”

Toes that Disappear

Louis Liken’s toe did excellent duty until 1980 when a miner arrived to take the challenge. Sourtoe Cocktail Club picks up the story: “. . . Garry Younger was trying for the Sourtoe record. On his thirteenth glass of Sourtoe champagne, his chair tipped over backwards, and he swallowed the toe. Sadly, Toe #1 was not recovered.” Back then, the champagne was served in beer glasses.

Imagine that. What explanation could there be for a chair tipping backwards like that?

Other toes have vanished into the pockets of patrons no doubt to become a cherished item in a man cave somewhere.

There used to be a fine $500 for deliberately swallowing or stealing a toe. However, in 2013, a man brazenly ingested the appendage with a beer chaser after his sourtoe cocktail and immediately slapped $500 on the counter. He then boasted about his accomplishment.

Management took a dim view of this and upped the toe fine to $2,500 to discourage future showboating boors.

Replacement Toes

This may come as a surprise, but surplus human toes are not that easy to come by. The bar may be on its fifteenth toe as of this writing although it might also be on its twelfth; accounts vary no doubt due to note-taking reporters receiving their information along with alcohol.

Toes have been donated by various well-wishers often because of frostbite. But some have come from amputation due to diabetes or an inoperable corn. One arrived in a jar of alcohol with a note warning about the danger of mowing the lawn while wearing open-toe sandals.

Fresh toes are mummified in salt before going into service in the saloon.

Sometimes, when the supply is exhausted, the bar has had to resort to using the naughty bits of black bears. But, a fresh supply has just arrived.

British ex-marine Nick Griffiths took part in the 2018 483-kilometre Yukon Arctic Ultra race. The event takes place in the depths of winter and it cost Griffiths some toes. In June 2019, his amputated digit arrived at the Sourdough Saloon to begin mummification.

In September 2019, the hotel flew Nick Griffiths out to Dawson City to be reunited with his appendage in a cocktail. He chugged his libation without hesitation; as he pointed out “You know it's your toe, you know [where] it’s been,”

Bonus Factoids

• Diamond Tooth Gertie’s is another bar in Dawson City. For a while, it offered customers a glass of champagne with a molar in it. The drink proved not to be as toothsome as the saloon hoped and was withdrawn from the menu.
• In China and Korea, baby mice wine is popular as a pick-me-up. It’s rice wine infused with the bodies of—well, you guessed it. Only baby mice are used because using furry adults would be gross.

• Another treat for tourists visiting Canada comes from the other end of the country. In Newfoundland you can be “Screeched In.” It requires that you don’t mind making a fool of yourself in public. You get dressed up in oilskins and Sou’Wester. Then the—ahem—victim is given a piece of Newfie Steak (baloney) to eat and a cod to kiss, chased with a shot of Screech (rum) after stating loud and clear “Long may your big jib draw.” Having successfully completed the ritual the participant is declared an honourary Newfoundlander. And, who wouldn’t want that distinction?

Sources

• “Dawson City’s Sourtoe Cocktail at the Historic Downtown Hotel: As Bad as it Sounds.” Julie Miller, traveller.com, October 18, 2017.
• “Mysterious American Swallows Yukon Bar’s Last Human Toe, Pays $500 Fine.” Tristan Hopper, The National Post, August 27, 2013.
• “The Sourtoe Cocktail.” Atlas Obscura, undated.
• “CANADA: ‘Disgusting’ Donation Enthusiastically Received for Yukon’s Sourtoe Cocktail.” Canadian Press, June 14, 2019.

© 2019 Rupert Taylor

Comments

Pamela Oglesby from Sunny Florida on June 18, 2019:

What a crazy fad or what ever you want to call it. I would not participate! It is an interesting tale.

Liz Westwood from UK on June 18, 2019:

This is a grizzly tale. Certainly not a drink for the faint of heart.

I've spent half a century (yikes) writing for radio and print—mostly print. I hope to be still tapping the keys as I take my last breath.

Italy, the United States, and Mexico can all claim some influence in the creation of the Caesar salad. Of course, the countries themselves had nothing to do with inventing the dish, but a man with connections to all three did. That man is Cesare (Caesar) Cardini.

Cesare (Caesar) Cardini

Let’s visit Baveno. It’s a beautiful town on the shores of Lake Maggiore in northern Italy. It was here, on February 24th, 1896, that bambino Cardini first saw the light of day. As with so many Italian men in the early 20th century, Caesar emigrated to North America along with three of his brothers.

By 1919, Caesar was in the restaurant business, first in Sacramento and later in San Diego. But soon, Prohibition began to kill the hospitality industry. The solution for Caesar and his brother Alessandro (Alex) was to open a restaurant in Tijuana, Mexico where Californians could slake their thirsts and eat Italian food.

The Caesar Salad Is Born

The business was hugely successful, with Americans crossing the border in droves looking for a few shots of booze. July 4, 1924, America’s Independence Day, fell on a Friday that year. Crowds of people descended on Tijuana to celebrate the national holiday weekend, made much more festive by the easy availability of liquor.

At Caesar’s restaurant, they were doing a roaring trade but, so the story goes, they were running low on supplies. This is when Caesar looked around his kitchen and got creative.

He had eggs, garlic, Parmesan cheese, Romaine lettuce, olive oil, and a few other scraps. With the flair of a showman, he descended on customers' tables and before their very eyes improvised what was to become the Caesar salad.

But, maybe others had a hand in helping the legend get started. Alex Cardini, Caesar's brother who was a pilot, is also alleged to be the inventor—he dubbed his creation the Aviator’s salad. He also added anchovies, which his brother did not approve of. There is also the claim that Livio Santini, a young Italian working in the Cardini kitchen, concocted the salad based on a recipe his mother had used.

Despite the alternatives, it’s the Caesar Cardini story that sticks. It’s totally unverifiable, but it’s been told often enough to now carry an air of authenticity. Caesar’s daughter, Rosa Maria, says that’s how the dish was created, and that's a statement that seems to brook no argument.

A Local Dish

Word of this delicious combination spread north, and soon, some of Hollywood’s A-list luminaries were descending on Tijuana to try out this new taste sensation; W.C. Fields, Clark Gable, and Jean Harlow are all among the names mentioned.

Famed chef Julia Child remembers going to Caesar’s Restaurant with her parents when she was about nine. In her book, From Julia Child’s Kitchen, she wrote "They were so excited when big jolly Caesar himself came to the table to make the salad, which had already been written up and talked about everywhere. And it was dramatic, I remember most clearly the eggs going in, and how he tossed the leaves so it looked like a wave turning over." But there were no anchovies.

Slowly, the dish made its way across America, and in 1953, it received one of the highest accolades possible when it was described as “the greatest recipe to originate in the Americas in 50 years” by the International Society of Epicures in Paris. Clearly, these arbiters of gastronomic excellence had yet to savour the delights of a Coney Island hot dog. Despite such lofty praise, the Caesar salad did not really catch on until the 1970s.

Is Caesar Salad Healthy?

Nutritionists are constantly telling us we have to eat more dark green, leafy vegetables. This has led to the growth in sales of kale in recent years. I can confidently predict that kale will lose its popularity for the simple reason that it’s horrible. Remember, you read it here last.

Many establishments serving Caesar salad only use the inner leaves of Romaine lettuce, thereby depriving customers of the most nutritious outer, green leaves. The darker leaves get more sunlight and that leads to increased folate, vitamins C and K, potassium, iron, beta carotene, and other goodies.

The lettuce leaves on their own are fine, but who’s going to eat that? What makes Caesar salad so yummy is the dressing, and that’s where the trouble lies. Here’s nutritionist Robin Miller: "A traditional Caesar salad has 470 calories, 40 grams of fat (nine grams of which are saturated), and 1,070 milligrams of sodium." She adds that, in the context of being served a Caesar salad in a movie theatre, "You’re almost better off with buttered popcorn and chocolate."

You can eat a Caesar salad and say, ‘Wow, I ate so healthy today.’ You forget there was a quarter-cup of oil in there, and all the calories are from fat. So it’s better if you eat a grilled chicken breast, some steamed brown rice, and a little salad with balsamic vinegar on top.

— Chef Wolfgang Puck

The Tableside Caesar

I had my first Caesar salad in the town of Chilliwack, British Columbia. It was the same day that Mount St. Helens erupted in May 1980, although history does not record whether or not the two events are linked.

The suitably liveried waiter arrived at the table with a large wooden bowl. He scrubbed the inside with fresh garlic and whipped up a dressing with crushed anchovies, Dijon mustard, raw egg yolk, and olive oil. The ripped-up Romaine was tossed, the salad plated, croutons added, and then Reggiano Parmigiano was grated over the dish.

Hundreds of Caesar salads later, there has never been one to match my first. Every roadhouse, gastropub, and diner now serves a version of the salad. The dressing comes from a bottle, the croutons from a box, and the Parmesan cheese is rarely the real McCoy.

Perhaps some restaurants still provide the culinary choreography of a Caesar salad made beside the table, but I suspect it’s only in those places that are now outside the income bracket of an elderly writer.

Bonus Factoids

• In 1948, Cardini patented his Caesar dressing and started selling it in bottles. It is still available, although the Cardini family is no longer involved.
• Romaine lettuce was rarely seen in North American restaurants or supermarkets until the 1990s, as flavourless, watery iceberg lettuce held 95 percent of the market.
• The great Romaine lettuce recall of 2018 in North America came after five deaths caused by E. coli contamination. It seems a lettuce farm in California was drawing water from an irrigation channel that was downstream from a cattle feedlot. Now, who could possibly foresee that that might be a problem?

Sources

• “The Caesar Salad Was Invented in Mexico. Surprised?” Alison Spiegel, Huffington Post, November 3, 2015.
• “Caesar Cardini of Caesar Salad Fame.” Thekitchenproject.com, undated.
• “In Julia Child’s Kitchen.” Lori Lynn, Tastewiththeeyes.com, August 2, 2012.
• “The Surprising Truth About Caesar Salad.” L. Sasha Gora, BBC Travel, May 22, 2019.
• “The Caesar Salad Is Not an American Creation.” Noelle Talmon, Ripley’s Believe It or Not, December 6, 2018.
• “Caesar Salad: The Truth Behind the Calories; The Recipe for a Better Dressing.” Robin Miller, The Food Network, undated.

© 2019 Rupert Taylor

I've spent half a century (yikes) writing for radio and print—mostly print. I hope to be still tapping the keys as I take my last breath.

Benjamin Franklin once observed that “bacon is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy.” Sadly, the people who claim to know a thing or two about nutrition and health are now questioning Mr. Franklin’s wisdom. Bacon and other processed meats, we are told, are very unhealthy.

The Physicians Committee for Responsible Medicine offers this stark warning: “There is no safe amount of processed meat.”

How Is Bacon Made?

The issue with bacon is the way it’s made, so let’s check in at the bacon factory.

In North America, bacon starts with the belly of the beast. In Europe, they use the loin. Writing for TheMeatWeEat.com, meat scientist Elizabeth Boyle notes that “after the animal is harvested the carcass is broken down into several different sections.” Harvested? What? Like grapes or onions? Why so coy? The pig is slaughtered.

In North America, the bellies are cured by the injection of a brine made of sodium nitrite, sugar, and salt. They are then hung on a rack for about a week to allow the flavour of the brine to permeate the meat. Then, the bellies are wheeled into a smoker. Wood smoke from hickory is the favourite, but maple and apple are also popular.

Finally, comes the slicing and packaging.

It’s the curing and smoking, the very processes that make bacon so delicious, that are the villains; they produce cancer-causing chemicals.

What Is the Danger?

Healthline.com notes that “all meat that has been smoked, salted, cured, dried, or canned is considered processed. This includes sausages, hot dogs, salami, ham, and cured bacon.”

In April 2019 a study was published in The International Journal of Epidemiology that found even a modest intake of processed meats such as bacon is “associated with an increased risk of colorectal cancer.”

How modest? Someone who eats 21g (0.7 oz) of bacon a day has a 20 percent lower risk of bowel cancer than someone who consumes 76 grams (2.6 ounces) a day. And, what do 21 grams of bacon look like on a plate? Not much. Just a single, thin slice.

And, even that tiny portion can be dangerous.

Life expectancy would grow by leaps and bounds if green vegetables smelled as good as bacon.

— Doug Larson, Journalist

The latest warning comes after a similar alert from a World Health Organization study. The research was comprehensive and involved 22 cancer specialists from 10 countries who reviewed hundreds of studies and the data of hundreds of thousands of patients.

The result was to classify bacon and other processed meats as Group 1 carcinogens. This bundles them up with other cancer-causing agents such as tobacco, asbestos, and arsenic.

Mortality rates are different from those poisons, but frequent bacon-eating raises the risk of lifetime bowel cancer from five percent to six percent. You might say “Pfftt,” or something similar, “that’s no big deal.”

However, after crunching the numbers, the scientists determine that an additional 34,000 deaths a year can be attributable to eating processed meats.

The Cancer Mechanism

The main cancer-causing culprits are nitrates and nitrites. These are added as preservatives and to give processed meats an appealing pinkish look.

Nitrates occur naturally in such vegetables as lettuce and celery but in that form, they do no harm. It’s when they interact with red meat that nitrates get troublesome. They form compounds such as nitrosamines, which are carcinogenic.

The nitrosamines damage the cells in the lining of the bowel. The next step might be a visit to an oncologist.

The dangers associated with nitrosamines have been known for more than 60 years. Twenty-five years ago, a link was made between pregnant mothers eating hot dogs regularly and increased rates of brain cancer in children.

Food Industry Misdirection

The economics of food processing dictate that the best profits are made by getting bacon onto the breakfast table as quickly as possible. So, this means ditching the time-consuming traditional methods.

As someone wisely pointed out, time is money, so the meat industry embarked on a programme of claiming the old ways were unsafe. At the same time, it tried to trash the science that was unveiling the cancer risk.

Writing in The Guardian, Bee Wilson comments that the food industry “has for the past 40 years been engaged in a campaign of cover-ups and misdirection to rival the dirty tricks of Big Tobacco.”

It is a truth universally acknowledged that bacon can improve any situation.

— Jen Rasmussen, Author

One untruth trotted out by food processors appeared in the British magazine Farmers Weekly in 1975. The claim was made that the average male would have to eat 11 tonnes of bacon a day to run any significant risk of cancer. That is, dare we say, hogwash.

The American Meat Institute (AMI) took the tack that nitrates were, by golly, good for consumers. That’s because, said AMI, nitrates are the death knell for botulism. So, the argument is that meat processors are doing a vital public service by saving thousands of lives.

A group of well-rewarded scientists was assembled to generate research that backed up the meat industry. It has been an effective smokescreen laid across the real story about the dangers inherent in the way meats are processed commercially.

Nitrate-Free Bacon

Here’s the good news; you can still eat bacon and avoid the cancer risk.

There are ways of producing bacon, ham, pepperoni, and the like, that don’t use cancer-causing agents. The traditional method is simply to salt the meat.

Nitrate-free bacon is available almost everywhere. Retailer Marks and Spencer in the United Kingdom offers that product and says it “is just as delicious as standard bacon.”

Big-box giants such as Costco and Walmart are also offering nitrate-free bacon. There are also plenty of artisanal butchers curing meat in the old-fashioned way.

So, crank up the burner, let’s have some nitrate-free bacon for breakfast.

Bonus Factoids

• The good people who make Proscuitto di Parma in Italy stopped using nitrates in 1993. They’ve been making this ham for 2,000 years. It takes 18 months to cure and is quite expensive. But, what do you want? Cheap stuff that might harm you or quality food that’s delicious and safe to eat? Maybe eat a little less?
• Cancer Research UK says 8,000 fewer cases of cancer would occur in Britain if everybody gave up eating processed and red meat.
• In other good news, the Physicians Committee for Responsible Medicine suggests that, because of contamination in meatpacking plants, grocery stores ought to carry a label on meat that says: “May contain feces.”

Sources

• “Bacon – Do You Know How It Is Made?” Elizabeth Boyle, TheMeatWeEat.com, September 7, 2017.
• “Diet and Colorectal Cancer in UK Biobank: a Prospective Study.” Kathryn E. Bradbury, et al., International Journal of Epidemiology, April 17, 2019.
• “Eating Just One Slice of Bacon a Day Linked to Higher Risk of Colorectal Cancer, Says Study.” Nina Avramova, CNN, April 17, 2019.
• “Eating Processed Meat Is Associated With an Unhealthy Lifestyle.” Atli Arnarson, Healthline.com, June 4, 2017.
• “Processed Meat.” Physicians Committee for Responsible Medicine, undated.
• “Yes, Bacon Really Is Killing Us.” Bee Wilson, The Guardian, March 1, 2018.

© 2019 Rupert Taylor

Comments

Nishika Chhabra from India on May 07, 2019:

Very clear facts. Will surely share this informative piece on other platforms too.

Pamela Oglesby from Sunny Florida on May 04, 2019:

I am sorry to hear the news about bacon. I don't care as much about sausage or various lunchmeats, but I really like bacon. The good news is I buy unprocessed and look for any meat that has no nitrates, etc. I appreciate knowing the facts about bacon.

Dora Weithers from The Caribbean on May 03, 2019:

Thanks for the facts. Will pass this article on to relatives who love to eat bacon.

Miebakagh Fiberesima from Port Harcourt, Rivers State, NIGERIA. on May 02, 2019:

Hi, Rupert, any processed food including fruits and vegetables carry some risks. Doctors and the advertising industry has made a pack in agreeing. Thanks, for sharing.

I've spent half a century (yikes) writing for radio and print—mostly print. I hope to be still tapping the keys as I take my last breath.

Parmigiano-Reggiano History

It’s believed that monks in the area of what is now the province of Parma, in Italy, started making the cheese in the 12th century. By the 14th century, the reputation of Parmigiano-Reggiano as a cheese of noble quality was already well established. The cheese became a favourite in France, where it was given the name Parmesan.

In 1348, Giovanni Boccaccio created a fantasy world in his collection of novellas entitled the Decameron. Bengodi was a paradise in which gourmets rolled pasta down a mountain of Parmigiano-Reggiano, to coat it with the wonderful flavour.

In 1666, as the Great Fire was consuming London, the diarist Samuel Pepys buried his greatest treasures to protect them from the flames: “my Parmazan cheese, as well as my wine and some other things.”

In an effort to prolong his life, the French playwright Molière took up a daily diet of 12 ounces of Parmesan and three glasses of port. It didn’t work. In February 1673, he collapsed on stage in a tubercular coughing fit and died shortly after at the age of 51. (But, it’s safe to say he enjoyed the diet better than if it had been kale and water).

Parmigiano-Reggiano has even attracted the attention of crooks. In the 21st century, trucks carrying the cheese have been hijacked by the Mafia.

Making Parmigiano-Reggiano

The cheese is made from unpasteurized cow’s milk and the animals eat only grass or hay. They are not fed any growth hormones, antibiotics, or steroids. They placidly graze on natural vegetation only, which contains the three specific bacteria needed to make Parmesan.

The milk, half is skimmed and half is whole milk, is put into large copper-lined containers and whey and rennet (an enzyme from intestines of calves) are added. After heating, the milk curdles.

The curd is collected and placed in round moulds. About 550 litres of milk goes to make each wheel of cheese. The wheel is dunked into a brine bath of Mediterranean sea salt for three to four weeks. Then, it’s time to wait as unseen and unpaid workers—bacteria—toil away. Absolutely nothing else is added.

Stacked on wooden shelves, the wheels of cheese sit and mature for a year. An inspector Consorzio Parmigiano-Reggiano turns up to check the quality. If it passes, it gets a stamp of approval on its rind. About eight percent of the cheeses are rejected as less than perfect. Then, there’s another year of maturing before going to market.

The end result is what Amanda Ruggeri of the BBC describes as “salty but sweet, grassy but nutty, sharp but rich. There’s its texture: hard but grainy, popping with white crystals.”

Parmesan cheese is highly nutritious. It is rich in calcium, an excellent source of protein, and is packed full of vitamins and minerals. Because of its long ripening time, Parmesan is easily and quickly digested even by the lactose intolerant. But it doesn’t meet the strict requirements of a vegan diet.

Dirty Work in the Dairy

In 1996, the European Union granted both Parmigiano-Reggiano and Parmesan “Protected Designation of Origin” (PDO) status. What this means is that, for the product to carry those two names, it must be made by traditional methods within the specific area around Parma and Reggio. Many other cheeses, like Roquefort, Stilton, and Gouda, carry the same designation.

The PDO status only applies within the European Union, which is why food companies elsewhere sell a product called “Parmesan” that isn’t Parmesan.

Larry Olmstead is the author of the 2016 book Real Food/Fake Food. He writes that the stuff that comes in a cardboard tubes with a green label that calls itself “100% Parmesan” is not: “It’s far enough from the real thing that Kraft was legally forced to stop selling its cheese labeled Parmesan in Europe,” where it’s called parmasello.

A bigger problem is that fake Parmigiano-Reggiano is sold in supermarkets and specialty stores all over the world. Olmstead writes that “Many of these imitators are produced here in the U.S. or South America, especially Argentina, and come with names such as Parmesan, Parmigiana, Parmesana, Parmabon, Real Parma, Parmezan, Parmezano and my all-time favorite, Permesansan (really).”

When people eat the real thing they are consuming an entirely natural whole food, this is not the case with counterfeit parmesan. As Lydia Mulvany reported for Bloomberg News, Food and Drug Administration officials got a surprise when they visited Castle Cheese Inc., in rural Pennsylvania in 2012. The company “was doctoring its 100 percent real parmesan with cut-rate substitutes and such fillers as wood pulp and distributing it to some of the country’s biggest grocery chains.”

Bloomberg went on to investigate and found the adulteration of cheese marketed as Parmesan is quite common, something that is confirmed by the people who make the authentic item.

Nicola Bertinelli is president of the Parmigiano-Reggiano Consortium. She says that out of every 10 wheels of Parmesan sold in the world, only one is the genuine article.

Bonus Factoids

• Back in the days when the Pope and Henry VIII were still pals, the pontiff sent the king a gift of 100 wheels of Parmigiano-Reggiano.
• In 2017, the giant retailer Costco caused a bit of a stir when it sold 72-pound wheels of Parmigiano-Reggiano for $900 each. That was enough to make 2,160 servings of mac and cheese. At $12.50 a pound, this was a great deal. Higher-end cheeses sell for astronomical prices. For example, Pule cheese comes from Serbia and is made of donkey milk. It can sell for $1,000 a pound.
• Because it is a pure product of high nutritional value, Parmigiano-Reggiano is sent aloft to feed both American and Russian astronauts.

Sources

• Parmigiano-Reggiano.com.
• “Parmesan or Parmigiano Reggiano if You Want to be Fancy.” The Cheese Store, undated.
• “Italy’s Practically Perfect Food.” Amanda Ruggeri, BBC Travel, January 28, 2019.
• Parmesan.com.
• “The Parmesan Cheese You Sprinkle on Your Penne Could Be Wood.” Lydia Mulvany, Bloomberg News, February 16, 2016.
• “Costco Is Selling a 72-Pound Wheel of Cheese for $900 - and it’s a Good Deal!” Jeanette Settembre, MarketWatch, August 3, 2017.
• “Most Parmesan Cheeses In America Are Fake, Here’s Why.” Larry Olmstead, Forbes, November 12, 2012.

© 2019 Rupert Taylor

Comments

Peggy Woods from Houston, Texas on March 03, 2019:

We buy our Parmesan Reggiano cheese from Costco in wedges. It is a good price compared to other stores selling the same type of cheese. The history of parmesan is interesting especially the fact of it being sent up to our astronauts because of its nutritional value.

Miebakagh Fiberesima from Port Harcourt, Rivers State, NIGERIA. on March 03, 2019:

I think life expectancies are increasing in all nations. I realized that this is due to good nutritious foods in the first place. Medicine could be count as a second factor.

Rupert Taylor (author) from Waterloo, Ontario, Canada on March 03, 2019:

I confess to being a bit naughty in suggesting Molière died ahead of his best before date. Here’s a quote from a Cambridge University study:

“In England and Wales, for example, the average age at death of noble adults increased from 48 for those born 800–1400, to 54 for 1400–1650, and then 56 for 1650–1800.”

I see no reason why life expectancies would be materially different in France.

Pamela Oglesby from Sunny Florida on March 03, 2019:

Sorry to hear about all the fake parmesan as I didn't know it was such a problem. I learned a lot about Parmesan from this very good article. I had no idea it was first eaten in the 12th century.

Molière may have lived fairly long if he used that diet over many years!

Rupert Taylor (author) from Waterloo, Ontario, Canada on March 03, 2019:

It's my belief that for almost every popular product there is a real version and a fake one. It's not always easy for consumers to know when they are being conned. I suppose it's not difficult to put a counterfeit stamp on a wheel of bogus Parmesan.

My own solution, perhaps it's a bit naive, is to buy from local producers as much as possible rather than from conglomerate retailers in whom I have no trust.

Dora Weithers from The Caribbean on March 03, 2019:

Thanks for making us aware that there is the real and the fake. That is worth knowing because people need guidance in what to eat.

Liz Westwood from UK on March 02, 2019:

I learned a lot about Parmesan cheese in this article. I had not realised how long it has been around.

Miebakagh Fiberesima from Port Harcourt, Rivers State, NIGERIA. on March 01, 2019:

Hello, Rupert, as with a good products, counterfeit are easily made anywhere. I pray the original Parmesan cheese is made available all the time with enough information for the public to detect easily. I am a lover of cheese. I made use of it in my bread making. Thanks for sharing.

I've spent half a century (yikes) writing for radio and print—mostly print. I hope to be still tapping the keys as I take my last breath.

Inexplicably, the sales of haggis have been rising in recent years. The trend has been spotted in some of the most unlikely of places, such as Dubai and Singapore. What is going on?

The Offal Truth

The ingredients of haggis cover all the less-popular food groups: oatmeal, suet, onions, and sheep’s lungs, liver, and heart. The quantities don’t matter because you’re not going to make it, are you?

In recent years, cooks have taken to adding cinnamon, coriander, and nutmeg to the traditional ingredients in a pitiable attempt to make the whole thing more palatable.

Other Ingredients and Preparation

If you do decide to have a go, and you want to be authentic, you’ll have to track down a sheep’s stomach to stuff the ingredients into. Getting one of those from a grocery chain store is going to be a challenge.

And the purveyor of everything, Amazon, lets us down; the closest it can come is a book entitled Stomach Worms in Sheep Prevention and Treatment ($59.78). You might have to settle for an artificial sausage casing.

You stuff all the ingredients into the sheep’s innards and boil the thing for a couple of hours. Traditionally, the haggis is served with the appetizing sides of mashed turnip and potatoes—or as the Scots would have it “neeps and tatties.” And, horror of horrors, those neeps are likely to be rutabaga (see link below).

Haggis Burgers?

But now, some people have totally wigged out and have taken the haggis to parts previously unknown. Here’s Paul Waldie of the Globe and Mail: “Along with the burgers and burritos, there are haggis sausages, lasagna, nachos, truffles, bagels, pizzas, pies, doughnuts, bonbons, and even a haggis poutine.”

Haggis poutine? Say it isn’t so.

Rutabaga

For those who want to learn about the ghastly rutabaga that accompanies haggis, all you need to know is right here.

Haggis History

As with most things like this, the origin of haggis is long lost in the mists that so frequently embrace Scotland.

Its birth might be prehistoric, while some say a dish similar to haggis is described in Homer’s Odyssey. Here’s the reference, “a man before a great blazing fire turning swiftly this way and that a stomach full of fat and blood, very eager to have it roasted quickly.” Yum, yum.

History.com notes that “Although now haggis is a thoroughly Scottish tradition, its early history could be French, Roman, or Scandinavian.” Which is another way of saying we don’t have a clue where it came from.

A "Wee Beastie"

It was certainly a peasant food because the hard-to-cook innards of an animal were all the humble folk would get after the laird and his pals had gorged themselves on the choice bits.

When asked by a non-Scot what haggis is, the standard reply goes something like this: “It’s a wee beastie with four legs, two of which are shorter. This means it can run around the Highland mountains where it lives without falling over. You can catch it by running in the opposite direction.”

This explanation is no doubt why a third of American tourists to Scotland revealed in a poll they thought that haggis was an animal. The 2003 survey also showed that almost a quarter of U.S. visitors thought it was possible to capture a haggis.

Burns Night

On January 25 every year, Scots and people who would like to be Scots gather to celebrate the birthday of Robert Burns in 1759 and his incomprehensible poetry.

The Burns Night Supper is a ceremony more befitting the installation of members into some ancient heraldic order that the celebration of a bag of sheep’s guts.

The feast usually starts with a soup such as the enticingly named cullen skink. This is a chowder made with smoked haddock.

The highlight, if that’s the word we are looking for, is the piping in of the haggis and reciting of the poem Address to a Haggis. Then, there is the solemn drinking of a toast to the now disembowelled haggis, of course in whisky.

At this point, the revellers are served haggis, neeps, and tatties and it is required that diners pretend to enjoy the meal. Large quantities of whisky can help create the illusion that everybody is having a jolly time.

(Word of advice: It is considered bad form to ask for tomato ketchup.)

In the interests of journalistic integrity and balance here comes Norman Miller of the BBC: Haggis “when placed on a plate looks a little like a balloon bulging full of dark meat. It gives off a subtle, savoury aroma that soars wonderfully when the casing is cut open to reveal the hot meat within.”

It seems Mr. Miller may have imbibed a little too freely of the whisky before filing his story.

Haggis Trivia

• Gluten-free and vegetarian haggis has been a great hit, driving sales up 120 percent at Tesco supermarkets in Scotland.
• The Scottish Federation of Meat Traders has declared 2019 to be “The Year of the Haggis.” The United Nations has so far remained silent as to whether it intends to extend the honour worldwide.
• Some sadistic person has created haggis-flavoured ice cream.
• Hall’s is a Scottish food processor that, in 2014, turned out a monster haggis weighing just over 1,000 kg. It was the size of a small car.
• In 1977, a new sport was invented for the Gathering of the Clans in Edinburgh; it’s called haggis hurling. Its name is self-explanatory, and the only rule is that the wretched thing must not burst open upon impact. The world record of 66 metres (217 feet) is held by Lorne Coltart.

Bonus Factoids

• In 1788, Robbie Burns wrote the poem Auld Lang Syne and set it to an old Scottish folk tune.
• Canada and the United States both banned the importation of traditional haggis in 1971. They did so on the grounds that the lung meat could carry tuberculosis. Canada lifted its ban in 2017.
• Cajuns in southwestern Louisiana have a dish called ponce that is similar to haggis. It is usually made with pork and seasonings stuffed into a pig’s stomach.

Sources

• “Majestic Haggis of the Glens Proves Elusive for US Tourists.” John Carvel, The Guardian, November 27, 2003.
• “Haggis, National Dish of Scotland.” Ben Johnson, Historic UK, undated.
• “Ode to a Haggis: The History of Scotland’s National Dish.” Stephanie Butler, History.com, April 5, 2013.
• “Suddenly Haggis Is Hot, and not Just in Scotland.” Paul Waldie, Globe and Mail, January 24, 2019.
• “Why Scotland Loves Haggis.” Norman Miller, BBC, January 24, 2019.

© 2019 Rupert Taylor

Comments

Liz Westwood from UK on January 29, 2019:

When we took our family to Scotland, another relative asked the children to catch a haggis and bring one back for him. Luckily we managed to find one in our local Safeway store at the time, which we duly served up.

Pamela Oglesby from Sunny Florida on January 29, 2019:

I am not sure what to say about these foods, except I do not plan to try haggis or rutabaga. It does not even look a bit enticing.

I've spent half a century (yikes) writing for radio and print—mostly print. I hope to be still tapping the keys as I take my last breath.

They are infuriating in the way they hold court about food. They wax rhapsodically about cardoons (a thistle-like vegetable), wagyu beef, and cox’s orange pippin apples—while that little voice in your head is screaming, “Shut up and give me some mac and cheese and a bottle of ketchup!”

The Way It Was

The exact opposite of food snobbery is chili suppers, pancake breakfasts, fish fries, and spaghetti dinners. This is followed by pie. Nobody asks what’s the filling? It’s pie. That’s all you need to know.

Then comes the coffee—it’s either black or white—and it’s poured out of a big old jug by someone called Mildred who does not hold with pumpkin-spiced lattes. But it’s a safe bet that Mildred can turn out a killer pot roast.

These foods are served up in church basements to raise money for the volunteer fire department, or the 4H, or the Kiwanis.

Such gatherings are marked by their lack of pretension and their community togetherness. They continue still in the backwaters, as they should, while in the urban canyons food snobbery has raised celebrity chefs to the status of gods.

And restaurant critics squabble with each other as they try to reach new heights of pomposity.

The latter dish looks like it could be a still life from "Alice in Wonderland"—quinoa risotto becomes a bed for mushrooms, foliage, flowers and chunks of parsley "moss," tender cubes with the texture of angel food cake stained green from the herbs.

— Michael Bauer, "San Francisco Chronicle"

Pretentious Restaurants

Restaurants that specialize in conceit, self-importance, and haughtiness dot the landscape by the thousands. It’s probably very unfair to pick on just one example to stand in for all the others, so let’s get started.

Far from the community barbecues of the hinterland, we can plunge into a world where we might encounter neurogastronomy. This is said to be a marriage of science and the culinary arts to understand how flavours are generated in our brains. Mildred’s meatloaf should not present much of a challenge.

Günter Seeger is an exponent of neurogastronomy. His skills are on display at his New York restaurant that he modestly names after himself. There’s talk of “microseasonality.”

Neurogastronomy doesn’t come cheap. There was a prix fixe (or, as Mildred would put it, fixed price) taster menu of nine courses for $185; if you wanted wine pairings, that was another $150 per person. Diners had to pay in advance when they made a reservation. If they have to cancel within 72 hours, Günter got to keep $100.

There was no menu; you got what you were served and couldn’t find out what it was until after the meal.

I’ve rarely had sea bream as mysteriously milky as the crisp-skinned filet, bathed in sea-bean sauce and topped with pungent yuzu kosho (a citrus-chili paste)—a thrill worthy of Daniel Boulud or Éric Ripert.

— Steve Cuozzo, "New York Post"

However, even New Yorkers rebelled at dropping that much cash on a mystery meal. Günter Seeger has since lowered the cost to $95 for four courses, but still offers what is called the Chef’s Table of 11 courses at $195. And there’s even a menu for lesser diners that includes “Bluefin Tuna Carpaccio, Duck Ham, Sambal, Roasted Squab, Date Puree, [and] Red Turnip.”

And there’s a little note that “Our signature pivots on integrity, commitment, and attention to detail.”

But Günter’s pricing policies pale in comparison to Norma’s. It’s described as a “casual breakfast and lunch spot at Le Parker Meridien hotel” in New York. There you can have a frittata (what Mildred calls an omelette) with lobster and caviar for $1,000.

A Personal Journey Into Food Arrogance

The income of a writer does not accommodate the likes of Günter Seeger’s tariff. But after months of thrifty economies, enough can be scraped together for what we quaintly refer to as a “Posh Dinner.”

So, on a frigid night in Toronto, four of us gathered for a culinary adventure because the on-line reviews of the restaurant were excellent. There was a slightly unsettling admonition on the website that a $25 fee would be charged to no-shows, although this suggested an extremely popular eatery. In fact, until we were half-way through our meal, we were the only customers. Then two others appeared, although Mildred was not one of them.

They started us off with an amuse bouche, a thin but tasty gruel that appeared to have been dispensed with an eye-dropper. With bouches not quite amused, it was time for the appetizers. “Wow, look they have shaved lonza with maple cream.” Oh happy, happy, joy, joy.

There was an item called pork nduja that conjured up images of a pig with martial arts skills.

Other items included crumbled chicharron, beef bresaola, and plum mostarda; there seemed no end to the pretentious nomenclature. One dish came topped with deer lichen that turns out to be lichen that deer eat. Who knew?

One pictures weather-hardened outdoors people scraping the stuff off rocks in the Canadian shield and shipping it by dog sled to the gourmets in the south.

The meal with hideously expensive and unsatisfying. As we left the empty dining room behind us we were thinking, “Where shall we go for dinner?” It came as no surprise to learn the place closed down a month after we—um—“dined” there. Shortly thereafter, the deer lichen harvesting trade went into a sharp and terminal decline.

Then, even more perfectly with the Meursault, two huge scallops, as round and plump and fresh from the sea as a mermaid’s breast implants, just seared to golden on the top with a mild fish velouté, peas, fever and I think the shoots of peas, too. Perfectly finished, beautifully plated.

— Giles Coren, "The Times"

Are You a Food Snob?

Signs you might be a food snob. Using comedian Jeff Foxworthy’s routine “You might be a redneck if …” as a template, here are some indications that you might be a food snob.

You might be a food snob if:

• You prefer heirloom tomatoes to the red tennis balls sold in supermarkets.
• You know what a raspberry coulis is.
• You know how to correctly pronounce quinoa.
• You make your own salad dressing and dips.
• You say something like “that avocado/mango sauce perfectly accented the dull stodginess of the mashed rutabaga.”
• You garnish your pan-seared Alaska sea scallops with garlic scapes.
• You are searching for a restaurant that serves dragon eggs poached in unicorn milk.
• You think that “farm fresh,” “country baked,” “hand crafted” and other such rubbish should be banned from menus.
• You lust after a La Cornue Grand Palais kitchen range with a lava rock grill ($47,300).
• You can say the word artisanal without it sounding like you are referring to something to do with bums.
• You think Mildred might be a little behind the times, gastronomically speaking.

Bonus Factoids

Let’s check in with the Gourmet Food Generator, which creates random combinations of snobbish food items. Here are a few examples:

• Indulgent Tamarind and Bell Pepper Bread on a bed of Steaming Lemon Fritters.
• Imported Shellfish and Black Truffle hidden under Local Pine Nut Gremolata.
• Sun-Dried Peanut Tarts on a bed of Foamed Rutabaga and Grapefruit Soup.
• Extruded Truffle Oil Scones with a side of Preserved Cheese Stroganoff.

U.S. President Donald Trump says he eats fast food because “at least you know what they are putting in it (The Hill).” Say what?

Renowned butcher Pat LaFrieda once dared me to eat an eyeball that he himself popped out of the skull of a roasted pig. That eyeball tasted better than the Trump Grill’s (Grille’s) Gold Label Burger.

— Tina Nguyen, "Vanity Fair"

Sources

• “This NYC Restaurant Is Insufferably Pretentious.” Steve Cuozzo, New York Post, August 3, 2016.
• “Our 10 Most Pretentious Restaurants.” Lauren Shockey, Village Voice, January 7, 2011.
• Gourmet Food Generator
• “There Is Nothing More Tedious Than Reading a Restaurant Review in the United States.” Olivia Goldhill, Quartz, September 17, 2016.

© 2018 Rupert Taylor

Comments

Pamela Oglesby from Sunny Florida on December 23, 2018:

First, the description of the dinner you had when dining out was hilarious. I am not a food snob, and will never spend $200 for one meal. I can definitely put that money to something more satisfying. I guess I haven't paid too much attention to some of the news articles written about these high priced restaurants.

You can get a good surf and turf meal at a more reasonable price, and it is usually a meal that I like. You sure got my attention with this article.

Rupert Taylor (author) from Waterloo, Ontario, Canada on December 16, 2018:

Yes, the dragon egg thing was made up and so was the avocado/mango sauce. Might be worth a try though, but not the dragon egg.

Mr. Happy from Toronto, Canada on December 16, 2018:

Alrighty, I made it back (for better, or worse lol).

Looking at the photographs of plated food in your article made me smile. I'd starve if that was dinner: a squirt of some creamy sauce with a tea spoon of actual consistent food. Haha!!

To be fair though, I think food can be one of two things: fuel, or art. About ten minutes ago I just ate an avocado standing by the kitchen sink. It gets messy and so I didn't bother going away from where I was peeling it and throwing away the skin. I ate it quickly and kept going with my day. That avocado was mainly fuel but then, there are times I sit in the kitchen, working with one dish for hours and hours. It's like painting, or sculpting: art (for me anyway).

“that avocado/mango sauce perfectly accented the dull stodginess of the mashed rutabaga.” - Haha!! That sounds like quite the stuck-up statement but hey, we all express ourselves in our own ways. As long as we're respectful to others and otherness, it's all good with me.

"You are searching for a restaurant that serves dragon eggs poached in unicorn milk." - That's gotta be made-up, right? Otherwise, don't eat the Dragon egg!! Let's wait 'till it cracks and then we can have Dragon babies! Haha!! I love Dragons beyond what words can express. That's another story though.

Thank You for your article. All the best!

Liz Westwood from UK on December 16, 2018:

This is a thought-provoking article. Does food-snob equate to foodie? I generally maintain that the most expensive meals are not necessarily the best. My husband still struggles what to order when going for coffee, as he gets baffled by the long list of options.

Mr. Happy from Toronto, Canada on December 14, 2018:

“Shut up and give me some mac and cheese and a bottle of ketchup.” - There is never a voice in my head saying this but that's because I grew-up in Europe and I only discovered ketchup when I was about fourteen. I'm not into ketchup, or macaroni and cheese for that matter.

I love fish fries! Especially on native reserves where the fish is from the local rivers/lakes. I smile on my way to Zhiibaahaasing First Nationsjust thinking baout the fish fry lol : )

I love spaghetti too. I just made fettucelle with portobello mushrooms, sunrise tomatoes and added some italian parsleywith some parmesan cheese. Not fancy at all but very yummy.

"There was no menu; you got what you were served and couldn’t find out what it was until after the meal." - I've been to an Italian restaurant like that here in Toronto. The waiter just recited the menu. Haha!! The chef was straight out of Italy though. He didn;t speak any English but he was phenomenal in the kitchen. Good times, good food.

Okay. I suddenly gotta go. Will have to finish reading this when I get back. Cheers!

Wesman Todd Shaw from Kaufman, Texas on December 14, 2018:

True, and come to think of it, the most disappointing things I've ever bought were store brand quesos. I just don't understand why a proper queso sauce can't be bottled and sold.

Rupert Taylor (author) from Waterloo, Ontario, Canada on December 14, 2018:

Wesman that store-bought thing holds true for just about everything.

Wesman Todd Shaw from Kaufman, Texas on December 14, 2018:

I realized recently that I am a food snob, but only in very specific ways. Having spent most of my life in Texas, I'm an absolute salsa snob. I've spent countless hours among immigrants from Mexico, and been to several different places in Mexico as well. Most name brand salsas in stores can't hold a candle to the salsas I've enjoyed.

I've spent half a century (yikes) writing for radio and print—mostly print. I hope to be still tapping the keys as I take my last breath.

All foodies should find these quizzes simple. Identify the correct definition and win a boost to your self-esteem!

Upmarket “Dining”

The genesis of this article was an experience I had at one of those restaurants where you have to ask the server “What’s this?” for almost every item on the menu.

That experience spawned the idea of testing the culinary vocabulary of ordinary folk, but to be far less food snobbish than questions about pork nduja or deer lichen. Go on. Give it a try. It might be fun.

The rules are simple. Something to do with the culinary arts is listed and three possible definitions are offered—only one of which is correct. The questions are grouped in small batches to allow for the insertion of images and videos. I'm told people need stimulation of a visual kind these days or they'll lose interest.

There is only one trick question. See if you can spot it.

Food Quiz #1

For each question, choose the best answer. The answer key is below.

1. Kedgeree
   • Rice, eggs, and smoked fish often served at breakfast.
   • Turkish Delight wrapped in phyllo pastry.
   • A crawfish festival held every year by radio station KEDG in Alexandria, Louisiana.
2. Nun’s Fart
   • Tripe and onions.
   • Deep-fried French pastry balls that puff up during cooking.
   • Durian fruit added as a finishing touch to raspberry sorbet.
3. Reduction
   • A cooking technique that allows restaurants to add 10 percent to the bill.
   • The process of thickening a sauce to intensify its flavour.
   • What happens to your restaurant bill when the server pours hot coffee into your lap.

Answer Key

1. Rice, eggs, and smoked fish often served at breakfast.
2. Deep-fried French pastry balls that puff up during cooking.
3. The process of thickening a sauce to intensify its flavour.

Food Quiz #2

For each question, choose the best answer. The answer key is below.

1. Succotash
   • A dish combining sweet corn and beans.
   • A cocktail of sweet vermouth and Benedictine over crushed ice.
   • A cocktail made from root beer, Pernod, and a dash of bitters.
2. Buttocktongue
   • Strips of dried ostrich or dik-dik meat.
   • Meatloaf made by a combination of rump steak and tongue.
   • A salve made from herbs such as lovage and henbane.
3. Kleftiko
   • A Greek cheese.
   • Leg of lamb baked in parchment with garlic, herbs, and lemon.
   • A recipe stolen from a friend’s cook book.

Answer Key

1. A dish combining sweet corn and beans.
2. Strips of dried ostrich or dik-dik meat.
3. Leg of lamb baked in parchment with garlic, herbs, and lemon.

Food Quiz #3

For each question, choose the best answer. The answer key is below.

1. Alewives
   • Specially trained barmaids who serve widowers.
   • Members of the herring family.
   • Insects vital to the fertilization of vines.
2. Cockaleekie
   • Roast chicken with leek, mushroom, and garlic stuffing.
   • A bladder problem caused by drinking too much fortified wine, most likely to affect men..
   • A Scottish soup.
3. Dog and Maggot
   • Sea biscuit eaten by British sailors.
   • A Korean dish typically served with fermented cabbage.
   • An unfortunately named pie served at the Dog and Maggot pub in Chartly-cum-Fotheringhay, Gloucestershire, England.

Answer Key

1. Members of the herring family.
2. A Scottish soup.
3. Sea biscuit eaten by British sailors.

Food Quiz #4

For each question, choose the best answer. The answer key is below.

1. Haggis
   • The most revolting dish ever concocted by humans.
   • The second most revolting dish ever concocted by humans.
   • A Scottish “delicacy.”
2. Welsh Rarebit
   • Grilled cheddar cheese sauce on toast.
   • An almost extinct but very tasty rodent that lives in Snowdonia.
   • An especially comely damsel who serves in a pub in Cardiff.
3. Kunga Cake
   • Cake contained in a thick chocolate shell topped with butter cream.
   • Pickled fresh ginger.
   • An East African dish made from compressing hundreds of thousands of midges.

Answer Key

1. A Scottish “delicacy.”
2. Grilled cheddar cheese sauce on toast.
3. An East African dish made from compressing hundreds of thousands of midges.

Food Quiz #5

For each question, choose the best answer. The answer key is below.

1. Bubble and Squeak
   • Fried mashed potato and cabbage.
   • A dish combining jelly and blanc mange.
   • Unleavened rice flour bread.
2. Solomon Gundy
   • Moose meat casserole.
   • A special cookie baked for Passover.
   • Pickled herring and onion.
3. Sweetbreads
   • Goat testicles.
   • Thymus or pancreas of a calf.
   • Unleavened rye cakes sprinkled with icing sugar.

Answer Key

1. Fried mashed potato and cabbage.
2. Pickled herring and onion.
3. Thymus or pancreas of a calf.

Food Quiz #6

For each question, choose the best answer. The answer key is below.

1. Hasenpfeffer
   • A Bavarian drink of peppermint schnapps and vodka.
   • Marinated rabbit cooked with onions and wine.
   • Grilled horse flank steak served with green peppercorn sauce.
2. Fricassee
   • Braised or fried meat served in a white sauce.
   • A cooking technique using smoke from apple wood chips.
   • Eggs baked with tomatoes, onions, and cheese.
3. Headcheese
   • A jellied meat loaf made up of all the parts of a pig that can’t be sold otherwise.
   • Gorgonzola before the mold sets in.
   • Gorgonzola after the mold sets in.

Answer Key

1. Marinated rabbit cooked with onions and wine.
2. Braised or fried meat served in a white sauce.
3. A jellied meat loaf made up of all the parts of a pig that can’t be sold otherwise.

Food Quiz #7

For each question, choose the best answer. The answer key is below.

1. Confit
   • A fruity dessert combining peaches, apricots, and guavas.
   • A bamboo basket used for steaming vegetables.
   • Meat that is cooked in its own fat.
2. Capers
   • What the cook gets up to after she’s been into the cooking sherry.
   • The brined and unripened flower buds of the Flinders rose.
   • Topping for a fruitcake.

Answer Key

1. Meat that is cooked in its own fat.
2. The brined and unripened flower buds of the Flinders rose.

The Trick Question

Did you catch it? It’s the one about haggis. The three questions were:

• The most revolting dish ever concocted by humans.
• The second most revolting dish ever concocted by humans.
• A Scottish “delicacy.”

All three answers are correct.

There might be a way of combining all answers to give you a cumulative score for the entire quiz, but such remains well beyond the digital skills of the quizmaster.

Bonus Factoids

“Will that be six fries with that?” Harvard Professor Eric Rimm recommends, for health reasons, restricting a serving of French fries to six (6). Who says Ivy League academics aren’t in touch with the lives of ordinary people?

The story is that, in 1789, when Marie-Antoinette was told the people had no bread, she replied, “Qu’ils mangent de la brioche.” This has been widely translated as “Let them eat cake.” But, the phrase was in circulation for many years before the French queen was born, and most historians agree that Marie-Antoinette almost certainly did not utter the words.

© 2018 Rupert Taylor

Comments

Susan Edwards on December 10, 2018:

My children used to sing "Hot dogs are made up of lips and eyelashes" to the Sound of Music song These are A Few of My Favourite Things. More useful parts of a cow.

Pamela Oglesby from Sunny Florida on December 08, 2018:

This was a fun quiz where I did a lot of guessing. Perhaps some traveling abroad would have improved my score, but on several questions I did have a good idea for answering.

Rupert Taylor (author) from Waterloo, Ontario, Canada on December 07, 2018:

Hi Mr. Happy. I grew up England where it was said you could eat everything a pig had to offer except its squeal. N. Americans do eat the entire cow or hog when they bite into a hot dog; they just don’t realise it.

Mr. Happy from Toronto, Canada on December 07, 2018:

Reduction: "A cooking technique that allows restaurants to add 10 percent to the bill." - That is actually correct too LOL Reduction helps thicken a sauce, bringing out the flavors but it also gets more expensive. If I'm in a restaurant kitchen an extra twenty minutes reducing your sauce, You're gonna pay for it! Haha!! Unless I invited You to come over for dinner at the house. Then, it's free.

"A jellied meat loaf made up of all the parts of a pig that can’t be sold otherwise." - You can sell them otherwise too just not to North Americans who have been here for a couple of generations. When You go to the supermarket, You only find chicken breast, chicken thighs, chicken legs. Where's the head? Where's the neck? Where are the feet? Or, do North American chickens grow without feet and head? LOL Many people don't know how to use an entire animal in North America, unless You're Native, or come from some other place (not US, or Canada). I remember when my grandma would cut the pig in the fall/winter: everything was used, from tail to snout, to feet - no waste.

Well, this was fun! I cook regulary. I worked in restaurants, I have friends who owned/own restaurants but even with all that I failed most of the quizes. It's because of all the fancy names they give to simple things. I was thickening my sauces by leaving them on low heat, before I knew about "reduction" LOL

Okay, enough of me for now. Thank You for your article and all the best!

Liz Westwood from UK on December 07, 2018:

Thanks for that. I enjoyed it, but there were some retakes!

Rupert Taylor (author) from Waterloo, Ontario, Canada on December 06, 2018:

Glad you enjoyed it Rochelle. As to the rutabaga it was banished from my life more than half a century ago. I have never missed it.

Rochelle Frank from California Gold Country on December 06, 2018:

That was fun. I actually knew about half of them and got quite a few more by dumb luck.

On the other hand, I'm not tempted to try or even taste most of them. I noticed that the poor rutabaga was once again ignored.

I've spent half a century (yikes) writing for radio and print—mostly print. I hope to be still tapping the keys as I take my last breath.

Surviving in the wilderness may come down to a piece of knowledge you picked up along the way and quickly forgot until a crisis suddenly brings it to mind. Sort of like which bears can’t climb trees—black or brown? It’s black bears. Got it? Black bears. Also, polar bears can’t climb trees, but as there are no trees in places where bears of the polar persuasion live, that’s of little consequence. But, trust me on the black bears—I think.

First You Need an Ostrich Egg

Obviously, before you can cook an ostrich egg, you have to get your hands on one, and that’s not always easy. I would suggest not looking in Michigan’s Northern Peninsula or Scotland’s Cairngorm Mountains. The tourist departments for neither of these regions mention ostriches. Not even in the fine print.

So, what to do? Right. Amazon. Well, what do you know? I’ve finally stumped the big A.

They’ve got Ostrich Egg Shells ($114.53 with free shipping), Styrofoam Ostrich Eggs ($5.25 each), and Decorative Ostrich Egg Etched With Vinegar ($573.09). But, no fresh ostrich eggs.

However, the Exotic Meat Markets steps up to fill the gap. They will send you one (1) California-raised ostrich egg for $99.99. But shop about a bit, and you will find that Fossil Farms in New Jersey offers the product at $45.00 each. But, they are a seasonal item not readily available in the winter.

However, you may have an ostrich farm nearby. There are a few hundred in the United States and the United Kingdom, and they are dotted all over Canada, Australia, and elsewhere. The farmers will be happy to sell you an egg. Very happy, it seems, because there are some articles online that describe ostrich farming as “precarious.”

Ostrich Egg Facts

• Being the world’s biggest bird, albeit flightless, it comes as no surprise they lay the world’s biggest bird eggs.
• The eggs weigh up to three pounds and are six inches in diameter.
• One ostrich egg is the equivalent of about 24 chicken eggs.

• Ostriches lay their eggs in communal nests that hold as many as 60 at a time; both males and females do incubation duty.
• From the Safari Ostrich Farm, Oudtshoorn, South Africa, we learn that “An ostrich egg contains approximately 2,000 calories, 47 percent protein and 45 percent fat.” But you’re not going to eat it in one go are you? Are you?
• “Ostrich eggs contain less vitamin E and vitamin A than that of a chicken egg. [However], ostrich eggs... are richer in magnesium and iron than chicken eggs.”
• To break the shell there’ll be no cracking it on the lip of a pan; you’re going to need a chisel and hammer. So those little critters inside must have beaks like pneumatic drills.

And, that brings us to the whole point of this biological and culinary excursion.

Methods for Cooking an Ostrich Egg

Boiling

You’re going to need to set aside an hour for soft, 90 minutes for hard, and have a large pot. Once you’ve chain-sawed the lid off, you and family and friends can sit around the table and dip soldiers into the yoke. (For non-Brits, "soldiers" are slices of toast about an inch wide.)

Frying

Most of the authorities in the culinary art of ostrich egg cooking recommend against frying. It’s an infrastructure issue; you’re going to need giant utensils. If you’ve got a big enough skillet it will take about 25 minutes for a sunny-side-up monster.

Scrambled

This seems to be the preferred method. Chef Lynn Crawford advises “If you ever want to challenge yourself to cook an ostrich egg, scrambling is the simplest preparation. You can coax the liquid interior from a small hole without worrying about keeping the yolk intact. A small hole also preserves more of the shell for later use as a serving dish.”

And, of course, it tastes like chicken.

Myth or Reality?

Many years ago, when I lived in Africa, I picked up a yarn that intrigued me. It was purveyed by a gin-soaked old codger in a pub and speaks to the need for bushcraft knowledge that started out this article.

The man had “expert at surviving in the bush” written all over him; he was probably an encyclopedia of knowledge about how to avoid getting bitten, poisoned, trampled, stung, or eaten by inhabitants of the African plains.

“Suppose,” he said, “that you are alone in the Serengeti and you are hungry. Perhaps, you come across an ostrich egg. Before you pick it up, check to make sure there are no parents lurking about. If an ostrich sees you abducting its next of kin it’s likely to get grumpy. You don’t want that to happen because an ostrich can deliver a kick that can prove fatal.”

The old fellow appeared to re-arrange something in his left nostril, ordered another three fingers of gin, and continued.

“Next, you’re going to need an elephant. Not just any elephant, but one that’s just taken a dump. And, I mean just; fresh elephant dung is very hot.” He looked at me quizzically. “Can you see where this is going?” I said I thought I could.

“Right,” he said. “You stuff the ostrich egg into the pile of steaming poop. Find a baobab tree to sit under and wait for 90 minutes or so, making sure all the while that nothing is scoping you out as a possible lunch item.”

After the hour and a half have passed you’ve got breakfast, lunch, and supper all wrapped up in one neat package. All you have to do is open it.

Just as Amazon has proved a disappointment as a provider of ostrich eggs so the Internet has failed to confirm this story. I leave it to the reader to decide on its plausibility.

Cooking an Ostrich Egg in Elephant Dung

Bonus Factoids

• No. Ostriches do not bury their heads in the sand. However, if they feel threatened, they do lie down. So, with a head and neck that have a similar colour to sand, it might look as though they stick their heads underground.
• By the way, elephant dung when burnt is an excellent mosquito repellent.

Sources

• “Ostrich Eggs for Food.” Exotic Meat Market, undated.
• Fossil Farms.
• “Ostrich Facts: The World’s Largest Bird.” Alina Bradford, Live Science, September 17, 2014.
• Safari Ostrich Farm.
• “How to Cook an Ostrich Egg (and 8 Reasons Why You Should).” Penny Alexander, Wayfair.co.uk, undated.
• “Lynn Crawford on How to Cook an Ostrich Egg.” Devon Scoble, Food Network, February 1, 2016.

© 2018 Rupert Taylor

Comments

Liz Westwood from UK on November 28, 2018:

Thanks, Rupert. I had no idea they were so readily available in the UK.

Rupert Taylor (author) from Waterloo, Ontario, Canada on November 27, 2018:

Liz. According to a June 2018 article in the Sun (sorry but that’s where Google sent me) Waitrose is now selling ostrich eggs for £19.99 that are supplied, in limited quantity, by a farm in Lincolnshire. Also, Florentine restaurant in Lambeth is where the giant ostrich egg breakfast is served.

Liz Westwood from UK on November 27, 2018:

I will have to take your word for it, as I think I will struggle to get one in the UK.

Louise Powles from Norfolk, England on November 27, 2018:

You can really see how big an Ostrich egg is compared to a normal sized egg. I've never tried an Ostrich egg before, but would certainly like to.

Dora Weithers from The Caribbean on November 26, 2018:

This is informative, interesting, wild, entertaining and more. Thanks for something out of the ordinary.

Rupert Taylor (author) from Waterloo, Ontario, Canada on November 26, 2018:

Mr. Happy. The White Rock Ostrich Farm is near Rockwood, West of Milton, outside Toronto. They have a website.

Amazon does not supply ostrich eggs. I think it’s the only product the company doesn’t carry.

Camel milk? Hmmm.

Mr. Happy from Toronto, Canada on November 26, 2018:

Ya, I am concerned just like Mr. Wesman about Amazon and their eggs. I tend not to trust gigantic corporations. For them, we're just numbers. I also do not like making wealthy corporations wealthier. I never spent a penny at Wallmart (in my entire life) and as of this year Amazon will not get a penny from me either. They will need to improve a lot for their workers, for me to spend a penny on their website.

I am interested in Ostrich Eggs though and maybe one day, I'll come across one. Ordering one from a small farm in New Jersey also sounds more enticing for me than Amazon.

Anyway that's my two cents, once again lol

Wesman Todd Shaw from Kaufman, Texas on November 26, 2018:

I've always got some frozen burritos for the times when I don't want to put effort into anything, and still need to eat.

So I know exactly what I'd do with one. Scrambled, diced onions, tomatoes, and peppers. Then the question would be do I add beans or sausage? I'd roll some burritos.

You'd really consider having one of those shipped from amazon? I guess they'd know how to ship an egg if anyone would.

Mr. Happy from Toronto, Canada on November 26, 2018:

That 4th photo You put up is priceless! Check out that look - not impressed with our human behavior! lol jk: )

I had to read this. I love to cook and You never know when You come around to an Ostrich Egg. I gotta be prepared lol

Thank You for your article. Is the next one (article) on camel milk? Haha! Cheers!

I've spent half a century (yikes) writing for radio and print—mostly print. I hope to be still tapping the keys as I take my last breath.

French fries might not come from France. A claim is made that their origin can be traced to Belgium, but nobody knows for sure who gets credit for these tasty morsels.

The Raw Material

Before fries can come into existence, you need the humble spud. For that, we have to thank Mother Nature and the Inca Indians of what is now Southern Peru. Somewhere between 7,000 and 10,000 years ago, they turned wild potatoes into a cultivated crop.

The Spanish conquistadors raped, pillaged, and brutalized their way into South America and, by 1536, had conquered Peru. They thought the potatoes interesting and took them back to Europe with them.

They were small and a little bitter, but selective breeding turned them into one of the most popular crops and foods. There are now more than 1,000 different varieties of spuds in the world.

The Belgian Claim

The frequently told story is that the people living in the Meuse valley around Namur invented the French fry. This area is in the French-speaking part of Belgium and dates back as a settlement into pre-history.

By the Middle Ages, the locals were particularly fond of fried fish they hauled out of the River Meuse. In 17th century, during a period known as the Little Ice Age, the Meuse froze over and, the story goes, people cut potatoes into thin strips and fried them up as a substitute for the fish they liked so much.

There might be something in this because at the time much of this area was under Spanish control and, as we’ve seen, they brought taters to Europe. However, this part of the world wasn’t Belgium back then, it was the southern Netherlands. Belgium as a country did not come into existence until 1830.

But, of course, Belgium was a prime battleground as the two sides tried to annihilate each other in World War I. As American soldiers joined the slaughter some were stationed in and around Namur where they came into contact with the deep-fried potato fingerlings.

The doughboys were a little bit shaky on geography and, because the locals spoke French, assumed they were in France. So, they started calling the food French fries. That story is far from entirely undisputed.

A competing narrative is that Thomas Jefferson brought the delicacy back from France after his spell there as U.S. ambassador from 1785 to 1789.

The French Claim

“Frites Belge? Non, non Monsieur,” might the French retort, delivered with a Gallic wag of the finger.

A French army medic named Antoine-Augustine Parmentier was captured by the Prussians during the Seven Years’ War (1756-1763). As he sat out hostilities in Prussia he was given potatoes as part of his diet.

At the time, the French considered potatoes fit only for feeding to pigs. There was a widespread fear that spuds caused leprosy, so the government banned them for human consumption in 1748.

During his incarceration, Antoine-Augustine found potatoes surprisingly nourishing. He returned to France at the end of the war entirely free of symptoms of leprosy. He started promoting potatoes as good food and, in 1771, the Paris Faculty of Medicine declared the pomme de terre fit for human consumption.

Soon, the now-popular potato was turning up in restaurants and on the carts of street vendors as frites. But, who first came up with the idea of deep-frying fingerlings of potato is a mystery.

Controversy

Oh dear. Here comes food historian and Professor Pierre Leclercq at the University of Liège, Belgium. In the University’s publication Culture, he writes that the whole Meuse River valley story is based on an uncritical reading of a 1781 manuscript written by one Joseph Gerard.

Then, he writes that “the excellent work of Fernand Pirotte tells us that the potato was introduced in Namur only around 1735.” So, without time machines, the peasants could not have been frying spuds on the frozen Meuse in the 1600s.

And, another thing. Ordinary folk could not have invented deep-fried potatoes. Being in possession of enough fat to do the cooking was beyond the means of all but the rich in the 18th century. Prof. Leclercq says if they got their hands on fat at all, poor people simply ate it.

So, the frozen-river-of-the-Little-Ice-Age-yarn appears to be fiction. However, it’s been repeated so often that it’s dressed itself in the mantle of truth.

A Belgian trash-talking the origin of the Frites Belge? Mon Dieu.

Professor Leclercq writes that “The inventor of the fried potato will probably always remain anonymous. But we can guess his job: peddler. We can also guess his origin: Parisian.”

The Beautiful Frites

The Belgians are not giving up their claim without a fight. The country has a petition before the United Nations Educational, Scientific, and Cultural Organization “to endorse the fry as an official icon of Belgian cultural heritage” (BBC). And you thought the UN didn’t have important issues on its agenda.

Hugues Henry is director of the Brussels Fries Museum (Yes, there is one. Open “Every 1st weekend of the month”). He tells Salon that frites are “part of our history, our gastronomy, our culture in the widest sense of the word.”

Henry co-authored the book Carrément Frites with chef Albert Verdeyen who boasts (Le Monde, February 2013) “We Belgians fry a noble product, not just a vegetable . . . And above all, we have mastered better than anyone the art of double frying, so that they are golden and crispy.”

And, it has to be said that anyone who has eaten Belgian frites will never be happy with French fries served up by a fast food chain.

Bonus Factoids

• Called fritkots, modest structures (some call them shacks) dot the Belgian landscape. However, politicians deemed them to be health hazards and ugly so began closing them down in the 1980s. Expert on Belgian frites history Hugues Henry says there are now only 1,600 fritkots left out of the 10,000 that existed at the end of the 1970s.
• The Holy Grail of the vending-machine business is an appliance that delivers fresh French fries on demand. Fortunes have been spent trying to develop such a device but none have, as yet, been made. An Australian company patented one design in 1982 and then folded. In 2008, Beyondte Technology in China began developing a vending machine that has since been taken to market by a Belgian company. But, why anyone would use such a contraption when there are so many real, live Belgian frites shops around is a question for others to answer.
• In 2003, the French government refused to back then-President George W. Bush’s ill-conceived attack on Iraq. In retaliation, Republican Chairman of the Committee on House Administration, Bob Ney, ordered French fries be renamed Freedom fries in Congressional cafeterias. Ney was later convicted of corruption and sentenced to 30 months in prison. The French fry name was reinstated.

Sources

• “The History of French Fries.” Dave Hiskey, Today I Found Out, September 23, 2010.
• “The True Story of the Fried Potato.” Pierre Leclercq, Culture, University of Liège, March 2009.
• The Brussels Fries Museum. Undated.
• “La Frite Est-elle Belge ou Française?” Le Monde, February 1, 2013.
• “Just Don’t Call Them French Fries.” Paul Ames, Salon, October 31, 2012.
• “Can Belgium Claim Ownership of the French Fry? Emily Monaco, BBC, July 31, 2018.

© 2018 Rupert Taylor

Comments

Rupert Taylor (author) from Waterloo, Ontario, Canada on December 22, 2019:

Dretn:

I am always open to reasoned criticism of my writing but not when it is as ill-informed as your offering. Your assertion that “Everyone knows fries originate from Belgium” is belied by the fact that “everyone” in North America, that would be about 370 million people, refers to them as “French Fries.” The British, Irish, New Zealanders, and Australians are agnostic, calling them Chips, or Hot chips in Oz. Of course, in China, India, Indonesia, and several other populous countries they don’t have fried potato sticks, so that rules out several billion other folk from your “everybody” claim. My profound apologies for not researching the nomenclature for fries/frites used in Tierra del Fuego, Namibia, or Svalbard.

I question whether you even read my article, where you would have learned a lot about the controversy over who actually invented the fried potato is well documented. Through patient research, I concluded that nobody knows for sure who gets the credit for inventing fries/frites; nationalistic claims aside.

You assert that “Fries are literally the only invention that’s 1000% sure to be Belgian.” Setting aside the fact that 1,000% is impossible mathematically (percent is a number or ratio that represents a fraction of 100), I draw your attention to this abbreviated list of Belgian inventions: waffles, Brussels sprouts (the clue is in the name of the city), the body mass index, cassette tapes, chlorofluorocarbon, the saxophone, the Gramme machine, roller skates, jenever, and a host of chemicals I won’t bother you with.

As you say in your comments “Do your research properly and don’t spread fake historic facts.”

Dretn on December 22, 2019:

This is one of the worst articles on fries I've read. Everyone knows fries originate from Belgium (Flanders). The first evidence was in the Medieval Ages and it was done by peasants. Because the French owned Flanders at that time, they claimed it was their invention. Fries are literally the only invention that's 1000% sure to be Belgian. Do your research properly and don't spread fake historic facts.

Miebakagh Fiberesima from Port Harcourt, Rivers State, NIGERIA. on October 10, 2018:

Hello, Rupert, this is your first article on food and cooking I am reading. I thought you only wrote on war, history, love, and social buzz.

My interests in your other stories still move me on. No wonder, this story is an eye-opener. I like potatoes. I had been eating them since in my boyhood days. Irish, African, and sweet potatoes these are much familiar with me. But I am also watching in the reputable food mall in my state for imported varieties.

I had heard of French fries, but Belgium fries only today. I don't think the deep frying of the foods will affect me adversely. I only eat fries occasionally.

Yes, I cook potatoes with vegetables and fruits as breakfast or lunch meal. I eat them with fish for health reasons. Thank you for sharing.

Rupert Taylor (author) from Waterloo, Ontario, Canada on October 10, 2018:

Poor Rochelle never having eaten poutine. It's a wonderful artery-clogging dish. Not healthy at all but then what good tasting food is?

Rochelle Frank from California Gold Country on October 09, 2018:

Though fried foods don't agree with me much any more "French" fries are almost irresistible. I didn't realize that the Belgians were trying to take over the honor of inventorship.

I've never had poutine, though I think you would have to live in a very cold climate to tolerate that much caloric comfort.

I've spent half a century (yikes) writing for radio and print—mostly print. I hope to be still tapping the keys as I take my last breath.

Every workday, tens of thousands of lunches are delivered across Mumbai with mind-boggling efficiency. The home-cooked meals arrive promptly, carried to their destination by train, bicycle, cart, and on foot. An ingenious tracking system ensures that the correct lunch reaches the correct person at the correct time.

Unique Delivery System

We can dial the date machine back to 1890, when an Indian entrepreneur named Mahadeo Havaji Bacche spotted a business opportunity. Bacche was a banker, and he wanted a home-cooked meal during his lunch break, so he hired a man to fetch his meal from his home. Other people liked the idea, so Bacche hired a team to make deliveries.

He devised a system of colour-coding and hand-painted numbers and letters to ensure the right lunch got to office workers in what was then Bombay, called Mumbai today.

Another version of this story has Bacche being the first dabba wallah, delivering food to a British administrator.

The system has grown to the point where about 80 million lunches are delivered across India each year. The centre of the trade is Mumbai where it was invented and where an estimated 150,000 to 200,000 lunches reach workers’ desks each day.

What Does Dabba Wallah Mean?

The people who make the deliveries are known as tiffin wallahs or dabba wallahs (sometimes called dabbawalas). In Hindi, the word wallah refers to someone in charge and is usually paired with another noun. Tiffin is an Anglo-Indian word for lunch or a snack. A dabba is a lunch box.

The dabba is a metal can with four compartments, a bit like a small milk churn. In the bottom level goes the rice, above it the curry, then comes flatbread such as naan or paratha. The top level contains dessert.

From Home to the Workplace

The journey begins in the home. Gender roles in India still mostly work along traditional lines, so wives and mothers cook up lunch and pack it into the dabba.

At about 10 a.m., the meal is picked up by a dabba wallah and taken to the nearest railway station where the first sorting begins.

The lunches are sent off to numerous other stations across the city where another team of dabba wallahs sorts them and sends them off to their destination. When lunch is over, the process operates in reverse, and the dabbas are collected and returned to their homes. Each dabba changes hands six times in each direction of its journey.

How Much Does It Cost?

Emma Henderson in The Independent writes that this service costs “Around 450 rupees a month (£5.40 or $6.40)—depending on distance. That’s about the average for a sandwich and a packet of crisps in a city, let alone a delivered meal. And on the other end of the deal, each dabbawala is self-employed and paid the same, around 8,000 rupees a month, translating to about £95 ($115).”

There's A Cooking Service, Too

And, for those that don’t have someone at home to prepare lunch, the dabba wallahs have a solution. They have set up a centralized kitchen, and their website announces that “Be it dal or be it a gravy, our food is prepared under hygienic conditions using refined oil which best takes care of your heart, because for us your little heart is utmost important.”

Amazing Efficiency

How many times in a Western restaurant has a waiter arrived at your table with somebody else’s meal, or the poached egg on rye turns out to be sunny-side up on whole wheat?

Imagine the potential for a mix-up in tens of thousands of deliveries across a bustling city of 18 million in torrential monsoon downpours or searing summer heat. But, it almost never happens that a meal goes missing.

1 Mistake per 6 Millions Deliveries

Emma Henderson writes that “… the president of the Mumbai Tiffinmen’s Association claims that dabbawalas only make a mistake once in every six million deliveries, translating to about one going missing every other month.”

The system is so efficient that it has been studied by the Harvard Business School and other universities. Forbes Magazine is so impressed that it has bestowed upon the dabba wallahs a 6 Sigma performance rating. What this means is that the dabba wallahs enjoy a quality assurance score of 99.9999999 percent.

There are no managers or technology to gum things up, and almost all the dabba wallahs are illiterate.

Who Are the Dabba Wallahs?

For those who believe that socialism is a recipe for inefficiency, the dabba wallahs provide an inconvenient truth. Each dabba wallah receives the same salary regardless of the number of customers served, age, or experience. They are all individual contractors and equal shareholders in the Dabba Wallah Trust.

The entire Mumbai crew of about 5,000 is split up into 200 self-managed teams. Each has a supervisor who is selected by team members and is usually the most experienced person.

The jobs are sought-after, and to get one a substantial fee of 30,000 rupees ($430) has to be paid to the dabba wallahs’ union. But, once in, a worker can enjoy employment for life on an income that is good by Indian standards.

Bonus Factoids

• Dabba wallah translates into “one who carries the box.”
• If the originator of the lunch has a history of not being ready when the dabba wallah calls to pick it up, that customer will be dropped. The system depends on precise timing, and the dabba wallah cannot hang about waiting for the lamb korma to finish cooking.
• Prince Charles and Sir Richard Branson are great admirers of the dabba wallahs. The prince visited them in 2003 and invited three on an all-expenses-paid trip to his wedding to Camilla Parker-Bowles.
• The 2013 movie The Lunchbox grew out of the unlikely occurrence of a dabba going adrift and starting a romance between an accountant of a certain age and a lonely, young housewife.

Sources

• “A Bombay Lunchbox.” Luke Harding, The Guardian, June 24, 2002.
• “How Dabbawalas Became the World’s Best Food Delivery System.” Emma Henderson, The Independent, August 7, 2017.
• “The Best Logistics Organization in India Uses No Technology and a Mostly Illiterate Workforce.” Peter High, Forbes, February 23, 2015.
• Mumbai Dabbawala.
• “25 Interesting Facts About Dabbawalas.” MSN, undated.

© 2018 Rupert Taylor

Comments

Viet Doan from Big Island, Hawaii on August 22, 2018:

It's mind boggling that this complex lunch delivery system works so efficiently! I first learned about this from the movie The Lunchbox (fabulous movie and I'm a big fan of the actor Irrfan Khan) and now I know more thanks your wonderful article, Mr.Taylor!

I've spent half a century (yikes) writing for radio and print—mostly print. I hope to be still tapping the keys as I take my last breath.

It’s commonly thought that John Montagu, the fourth Earl of Sandwich created what is probably the most popular item ever to come out of a kitchen. In reality, however, he didn’t create the dish—he merely gave his name to it.

The earl was at the gambling table one evening in 1762 when he announced that he was a trifle peckish. He did not want to rise from the table (at which he was an unusually skilled loser), so a lowly servant was dispatched to bring his master a slab of meat between two slices of bread. As the aristocrat chomped on his snack, his gambling buddies noticed and thought, “What a capital idea. I’ll have the same as Sandwich.” And the name stuck.

The Sandwich Name

The anecdote of John Montagu at the gaming table might even be true, as a record of the event exists in print. No less an authority than Edward Gibbon, he of The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire fame, puts his stamp of approval on the story.

In 1762, Gibbon wrote in his journal after a convivial evening at his gentlemen’s club, “That respectable body, of which I have the honour of being a member, affords every evening a sight truly English. Twenty or thirty, perhaps, of the first men in the kingdom, in point of fashion and fortune, supping at little tables covered with a napkin, in the middle of a coffee-room, upon a bit of cold meat, or a sandwich, and drinking a glass of punch.”

A decade later, French writer Pierre-Jean Grosley gave the world his observations on how the English went about their lives. In 1772, he wrote “A minister of state passed four and twenty hours at a public gaming-table, so absorpt in play, that, during the whole time, he had no subsistence but a piece of beef, between two slices of toasted bread, which he eat without ever quitting the game. This new dish grew highly in vogue, during my residence in London; it was called by the name of the minister who invented it.”

Ancient Origins

The idea of putting a filling between two slices of bread did not come out of nowhere. The Earl of Sandwich had traveled in the Eastern Mediterranean, where eating pita bread stuffed with fillings was common.

We can trot back more than two millennia in that part of the world to meet the Korech. This is a Jewish sandwich that is eaten at Passover and is the creation of Hillel the Elder, a rabbi who lived in Jerusalem during the reign of King Herod.

The Korech, or Hillel sandwich as it’s often known, commemorates the Jewish escape from Egypt. Bitter herbs, horseradish, and lettuce are placed between two slices of matzo unleavened bread. The herbs, said Hillel, represent the bitterness of slavery.

But this kind of “sandwich” was already part of the cuisine of the region and had been around, probably, for thousands of years. Crumbs of flatbread have been found at archaeological sites in what is now Jordan dating back as far as 14,600 years. It’s not hard to imagine these people putting a bit of something, roast goat perhaps, between slices of flatbread.

All Praise to Otto Frederick Rohwedder

The advertising line was “The greatest forward step in the baking industry since bread was wrapped.” We have Iowa inventor Otto Rohwedder to thank for this civilization-advancing breakthrough of 1927 vintage. The “greatest step” was the invention of a bread-slicing machine.

Prior to Otto, bread slicing was something that was frequently accompanied by bloodshed and sometimes a lost digit or two. With sliced bread in the kitchen, the kiddies could now make their own peanut butter and jelly sandwiches without risk of permanent mutilation. The availability of pre-sliced bread caused an explosion in the popularity of sandwiches, which soon became the default lunch item.

Sandwich Varieties

Mrs. Beeton of cookbook notoriety gives a recipe for a toast sandwich. Now, pay attention; this is a difficult dish to construct. You place a piece of cold toast between two slices of bread and season it with salt and pepper. Now, doesn’t that get the juices flowing in anticipation? Who says the English are not creative cooks?

Let’s stay in the sceptered isle for another culinary masterpiece—the chip butty. It’s every bit as complicated as a toast sandwich; French fries, or chips as they are known in Britain, are placed between two slices of liberally buttered white bread. For the authentic British experience, the chips ought to be very greasy—a carb counter’s nightmare. Oh! Butty is a northern British dialect word for sandwich.

Then there’s the bacon sarnie (more British slang for sandwich). Again, a tricky creation. Fry up masses of bacon and put them between . . . well, you guessed it. An important addition is a generous squirt of brown sauce.

The Great Depression in America gave us the po' boy. Streetcar workers in New Orleans were on strike. A couple of brothers, Benny and Clovis Martin, had been streetcar conductors who moved on to the restaurant business. They said they would feed any striker for free.

When one came into the shop looking for a meal, the staff would say “Here comes another poor boy,” only of course, with New Orleans pronunciation, it came out as "po’ boy." Traditionally, a po’ boy is a baguette filled with meat or fried seafood. It's a nice story, but serious historians have their doubts.

Favourite Sandwiches

Let us step outside the bounds of ham and cheese, tuna salad, and the bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwiches. We all have a favourite. The writer’s is the Reuben.

It was created in a deli in Omaha, Nebraska by Reuben Kulakofsky. In the 1920s, there was a weekly poker game at the Blackstone Hotel in which Kulakofsky was a player. So as to stay at the table, the group needed a snack, and here we come full circle back to the Earl of Sandwich.

Reuben Kulakofsky created the Reuben sandwich to handle the job. It consists of a thick pile of corned beef, sliced so thin it only has one side, warm sauerkraut, melted Swiss cheese, and Russian dressing in toasted rye bread. Clearly, Mr. Kulakofsky was not a deeply observant member of his religion because mixing meat and dairy violates Jewish dietary laws.

What’s your favourite? We’re going basic here; no sea asparagus, deer lichen, Mongolian yak cheese, or other exotica that bestow upon sandwich dispensers the right to charge $34.99 for a morsel of bread and a smear of filling.

Here’s a poll judging the popularity of eight relatively simple sandwiches. You’ll notice the not-so-simple Reuben has been snuck into the list. Please add your own favourites in the comments below.

Sandwich Popularity

Bonus Factoids

• According to PBS, each American eats about 200 sandwiches a year—that’s about 300 million sandwiches a day.
• The United States celebrates National Sandwich Day on November 3rd, the birthday of the Earl of Sandwich.
• The 11th Earl of Sandwich got together with Planet Hollywood to start a sandwich shop chain. There are about 30 outlets in the United States. One of its products is the “Original 1762,” which combines hot roast beef, cheddar cheese, and horseradish sauce.
• In medieval Europe, people did not eat their meals off plates; instead, food was served on a piece of stale bread about six inches by four inches. This was called a trencher and it absorbed the sauce from, say, a venison stew. If the diner was still hungry after the meal, he or she could eat the trencher. Otherwise, it was thrown out, fed to the dogs, or given to the poor.

Sources

• “Discover the History of the Sandwich.” Tori Avey, PBS, January 3, 2013.
• “A Tour to London, Or, New Observations on England and Its Inhabitants, Volume 1.” Pierre Jean Grosley, Lokyer Davis, 1772.
• “Hungry? A Brief History of the Humble Sandwich.” BBC News, July 13, 2018.
• “The Story of the Sandwich.” Stephanie Butler, History, July 18, 2014.

© 2018 Rupert Taylor

Comments

Rupert Taylor (author) from Waterloo, Ontario, Canada on August 01, 2018:

Thanks for that. I will see if I can track down a Muffaletta here in the frozen north. We have a rich Italian heritage in Canada and, of course, Cajun is a corruption of the word Canadian, because the Acadian people were expelled from Nova Scotia in 1713 and they settled in Louisiana. It was then French territory so it suited the French-speaking Acadians well, except for the climate - that must have been one hell of a shock. But I ramble. I agree that Italy has to be the culinary centre of the universe.

Wesman Todd Shaw from Kaufman, Texas on August 01, 2018:

I had thought it was a Greek sandwich, but I just now Googled to make certain I was stating the correct thing, and the Big G says the word could refer to either a specific type of Italian bread, or a sandwich created by Italian immigrants to New Orleans.

What I remember is eating with my parents as a young child at some place in Dallas, Texas; and I liked the sandwich they ordered for me so much that more than once, as a small child, I requested that for my birthday we go eat at that place I like where they have that great sandwich.

Where I live we've lots of Mexican culture, and just over to the east is Louisiana, and there are not enough words to describe how unique and great I think the cuisine of the Cajuns is. The Cajuns of Louisiana...or nearby places, can really do some special things with food.

I had already thought of Italians as maybe the best food people on the planet, so it isn't any wonder how Italians in Louisiana would make a huge impression on my taste buds.

Besides the Italian meats and cheeses, the mufaletta has a very interesting vegetable bled which is what gives it its distinct character. It's all dices up, and includes black and green olives, carrots, cauliflower, oregano, and garlic.

Of course you can expect the diced vegetables to have been soaked in olive oil.

I couldn't possibly recommend a sandwich any more to someone :)

Rupert Taylor (author) from Waterloo, Ontario, Canada on August 01, 2018:

Muffaletta? Details please.

Wesman Todd Shaw from Kaufman, Texas on August 01, 2018:

Excellent article. It is informative and entertaining, and it induces hunger. I'd already had a once frozen burrito on the skillet warming up, and now I'll devour that sandwich cousin with a bit more gusto.

I'm with you on the Reuben, that, that's been one of my favorites for a long time. Unless someone makes a Reuben at home, then the only place I know to go where they're always making them is Schlotzsky's. Another of my favorites is also uncommon here in north Texas, the muffaletta.

Long may the sandwich be honored in our kitchens, and on our plates.

I've spent half a century (yikes) writing for radio and print—mostly print. I hope to be still tapping the keys as I take my last breath.

What Is Marmite?

Marmite is a dark brown, sticky paste with a powerful salty flavour. Some people adore it; others find it absolutely revolting. There seems to be no middle ground. Full disclosure: I love the stuff.

Marmite’s Origin and History

We have 19th-century German scientist Justus von Liebig to thank, or curse, for the existence of Marmite. Apparently, he was fiddling about with brewer’s yeast when he accidentally discovered that it could be concentrated, eaten, and not cause a slow, agonizing death.

A company in Burton-on-Trent, Staffordshire, England got to hear of von Liebig’s culinary breakthrough. In 1902, the Marmite Food Extract Company in that noble town set out to make, bottle, and sell a yeast extract spread.

By happy coincidence, Burton was a beer-brewing centre, with more than 30 such establishments in action in 1881. So, the Marmite people had a plentiful supply of raw material for their concoction. According to the BBC:

“The original recipe contained salt, spices, and celery. Later folic acid, vitamin B12, thiamin, and riboflavin―vitamins which occur naturally in some foods―were added in high concentrations.”

The manufacturers keep the production method secret but some pointy-headed folk have figured out the general principles. Words such as hypertonic and autolysis are bandied about, so it’s not for mere mortals to understand.

Marmite Company Releases Their Product

The Marmite Company spent a couple of years perfecting their product before unleashing it on the unsuspecting British public. It didn’t take long for the country to divide into two camps; those who loved it and those who can’t appreciate a good thing when it’s offered to them.

By 1907, the demand from connoisseurs of the gustatory arts was such that the Burton factory could not produce enough to satisfy demand. A second plant was opened in south London. A resident recalled in a history blog from the area “When I was a kid we lived near the Marmite factory at Vauxhall. The smell from the factory was disgusting! People living close by applied to have their rates (municipal taxes) reduced because of the stench (they failed of course).”

Needless to say, the Marmite haters would never admit that the product helped Britain win World War One. Okay, that’s a bit of a stretch. However, there was a problem of thiamine (B1) deficiency among soldiers causing beri-beri, creating a swift heartbeat, shortness of breath, and swollen legs. So, the catering corps started shovelling Marmite into the lads in the trenches so they were fit enough to go over the top and get mowed down by the withering fire of German machine-guns.

Fun Marmite Trivia

• Inmates in British prisons love Marmite; the guards not so much. It seems some old lags figured out that if Marmite is mixed with fermented fruit a quite acceptable moonshine is produced. It’s not Château Lafitte Rothschild but when you’re in the hoosegow you can’t be too fussy about your hooch. It’s marketed behind bars under the brand Marmite Mule.
• Lucy Willis was an English scientist working in Bombay in the 1930s. She used Marmite to treat mill workers suffering from a form of anemia.
• The Australians have a version they call Vegemite. They claim it’s superior, to which the only appropriate response is “Go jump in a billabong cobber.”
• Several British newspapers, such as The Guardian and The Daily Telegraph, say Marmite repels mosquitoes, not applied topically you understand but internally. Supposedly, it’s the vitamin B the mozzies don’t like. Unproven says Snopes, or they would if they took the time to investigate.
• It is good for you. So says British nutritionist Melanie Brown: “Marmite plays such a useful part in many people’s diet, and it’s incredibly useful for older people who are short in vitamin B-12. It’s full of folic acid, and there’s lots of evidence that many women, young women of child-bearing age, are deficient in folic acid.”

Christmas wouldn’t be Christmas without Marmite. It’s as important to me as roasties, Brussels sprouts and gravy . . . I’ve become more adventurous with my Marmite recipes. it also goes in the chocolate gateaux and I use it as part of the frosting for Christmas cakes.

— Tracy Matthews, owner of the Marmite Museum

Some Serving Suggestions

This is the author’s invention and it came about from when he was a lad of about 10. On Saturday nights, he sat in front of the telly with his family watching the Billy Cotton Band Show, a peckishness often asserted its presence. (Tigger, the spaniel, would lie in front of the coal fire and occasional sparks would land on his fur and an unpleasant singeing pong would rise. “Dad. Tigger’s on fire again.” But that is a digression, hopefully instructive to all Cocker Spaniels.)

The Billy Cotton Marmite Sandwich

Okay, The Billy Cotton Marmite Sandwich. A slice of white bread is buttered and covered with Marmite. Another slice of white bread is buttered and covered with Branston Pickle. Third, a slice of bread is covered with a good nippy cheddar cheese, followed by a fourth slice of bread. What? I was a growing boy.

Marmite Soldiers and Soft-Boiled Eggs

Most children in Britain, at least the fortunate ones, grow up dipping Marmite soldiers into soft-boiled eggs for breakfast. The egg is self explanatory. The Marmite soldiers are thin strips of toast with Marmite spread on them.

Marmite Spaghetti

Other Uses

• The manufacturer suggests using Marmite to give some punch to soups and stews.
• Marmite and cherry truffles (no, just no)

Marmite vs. Vegemite

Bonus Factoids

• In 2011, the Danish government banned Marmite from the country’s grocery stores on the grounds that it ran afoul of arcane laws about fortifying products with additional vitamins. However, common sense prevailed and the ban was lifted in 2014.
• Marmite is 100 percent vegetarian.
• A certain type of cooking pot in France is called a marmite (pronounced mar-meet). An image of such a casserole appears on the label of each jar of Marmite (pronounced mar-mite)
• Tracy Matthews of Cardiff, Wales calls herself a “superfan” of Marmite. She has what she believes is the world’s biggest collection of Marmite memorabilia, a homage to what she calls “The wonderful Dark Elixir.”

Sources

• “Marmite: Ten things You’ll Love/Hate to Know.” BBC News, May 25, 2011.
• “Marmite.” Unilever
• “Vauxhall’s Marmite Factory.” Tradescant Road and South Lambeth, a hyperlocal blog, March 17, 2011.
• The Marmite Museum.
• “Marmite-loving Brit Mum Eats Tangy Spread with EVERY Meal…Including Christmas CAKE.” Katrina Turrill, Daily Express, November 30, 2016.
• “Marmite: A Potted History of the British-Born Spread.” Danielle Hayden, BBC News, October 14, 2016.

© 2018 Rupert Taylor

Comments

Katharine L Sparrow from Massachusetts, USA on July 11, 2018:

Hysterical! Loved this hub, amusing and informative at the same time! Who knew there was a Marmite SONG? Put me in the "hates it" camp, but I would be willing to try the Marmite spaghetti .... pasta always has possibilities! Well done, terrific hub!

Rupert Taylor (author) from Waterloo, Ontario, Canada on July 11, 2018:

Thank you Linda. I was at coffee with half a dozen Canadians yesterday and when I asked about Marmite; they all went Blecchh. How dare they?

Toasted crumpet with butter and Marmite. Yum, yum as that heavenly saltiness soaks into the cavities. Be still my beating heart.

Linda Crampton from British Columbia, Canada on July 11, 2018:

I've loved marmite ever since I was a child. It's still part of my diet, though I doubt whether I'll ever add it to my chocolate cakes. Thanks for sharing all of the interesting facts about the spread.

Rupert Taylor (author) from Waterloo, Ontario, Canada on July 09, 2018:

Wesman you are a brave hombre. I salute you.

Wesman Todd Shaw from Kaufman, Texas on July 09, 2018:

I'm fairly adventurous when it comes to food. I'll try most things at least once, and whenever a Marmite opportunity presents itself to me, well, I'll report back with the results.

I've spent half a century (yikes) writing for radio and print—mostly print. I hope to be still tapping the keys as I take my last breath.

Profound apologies to all people whose heritage stretches into Central and Eastern Europe, but this is my Anglicized version of a traditional dish from that region. A second warning: I am not a trained cook; only an enthusiastic dabbler in the kitchen. Act accordingly.

My version of halushki (or halushky) comes from a poorly remembered concoction somebody did on a television cooking show long ago.

The essential ingredients are: bacon, onion, cabbage, and egg noodles. So, let’s get started.

Getting Good Bacon Is a Must

Not all bacon is created equal. The stuff that appears in supermarket coolers should not be allowed to carry the name bacon. It shrivels down to nothing but a pool of fat.

Proper bacon comes wrapped in butcher paper, not entombed in plastic.

I have the good fortune to live in the middle of Mennonite country in southern Ontario. Local butchers smoke pork, as one told me, the old-fashioned way. He was cagey about revealing further details; perhaps, suspecting I was a corporate spy out to steal his secrets.

Below is what proper bacon looks like and we buy it by a mysterious measure called “a flat,” which amounts to about a pound.

Preparing the Bacon

Chop the bacon into pieces about half an inch square and fry it in a large electric frying pan.

(My hope is that you have a better appliance than mine which only seems to heat up in the top, left-hand corner. You work with what you have.)

The kill joys at the World Health Organization warn against doing this. In October 2015, the International Agency for Research on Cancer said processed meats cause the dread disease.

Bacon, ham, pastrami, the very things that make life worth living, are said to be carcinogenic. Read a bit further down the report and you find perspective. Eating a hot dog or four slices of bacon a day increases your chances of developing colorectal cancer from five percent to six percent.

You have been warned.

Chopping the Onions

Next up is an onion, but not just any onion. Spanish or Vidalia onions are my preferred choice. Thinly sliced, it goes into the pan, and is cooked, as the recipe books say, until it is transparent.

Cutting the Cabbage

At this point someone will come into the kitchen as say loudly “Mum. Dad’s cooking looshkeye again. Can we order pizza?” Ungrateful little blisters.

Then it’s the turn of cabbage; not one of those pale green, cannon-ball cabbages. My halushki has to have Savoy cabbage. The crinkly dark green leaves have a milder and sweeter flavour.

Cut the cabbage in half and take out the core. Thinly slice one half and toss it into the pan. (The other half will come in useful for coleslaw or a door stop).

Stir the whole kit and caboodle, cover and cook on low heat for half an hour, stirring occasionally.

Cook the Noodles

Cook a package of egg noodles (375 grams or about three-quarters of a pound) in boiling water. Drain and stir into the frying pan.

Serve with a liberal sprinkling of sharp Cheddar cheese on top.

Bonus Factoids

In fairness to eastern Europeans here are some of the ingredients in real halushki:

• A British website says what is called bryndzové halušky is Slovakia’s national dish “that consists of potato dumplings combined with cheese sheep curds and fried bacon.”
• Genius Kitchen has a recipe for Polish Haluski that is quite similar to mine, but substitutes Romano cheese for Cheddar.
• All Recipes has version handed down from a Polish grandma that employs pork chops rather than bacon and is "quick, simple, inexpensive, tasty and makes enough to feed an army."

Sources

• “What Is Halusky? Everything You Need to Know about this Special Slovak Dish.” Halushky.co.uk, undated.
• “Halushki.” Genius Kitchen, undated.
• “World Health Organization Says Processed Meat Causes Cancer.” Stacy Simon, American Cancer Society, October 26, 2015.
• “Halushki.” Kris, All Recipes, undated.

© 2018 Rupert Taylor

Comments

peachy from Home Sweet Home on May 29, 2018:

I have not eaten bacon nor pork for a long time, too expensive here in Malaysia

I've spent half a century (yikes) writing for radio and print—mostly print. I hope to be still tapping the keys as I take my last breath.

The children of a friend used to call them "Brussels Yuks." When I was a child, I would go into my parent’s garden and eat sprouts raw off the stalk. Properly prepared, Brussels sprouts are crunchy, mildly flavoured, and a little bit sweet. In short, they're lovely.

The Chemistry of Brussels Sprouts

Brussels sprouts are good for you. That, of course, is a universal phrase of condemnation for any food. No, but seriously, they are good for you.

They are a member of the cruciferous family of veggies that includes cauliflower, broccoli, cabbage, and kale.

One serving gives you a boatload of vitamin K, which is good for your bones. They also deliver more than a day’s allowance of vitamin C. Other vitamins are A and B6.

There’s lots of fibre and potassium, which is good for your heart and blood pressure.

Thiamin, folate, riboflavin, phosphorus, manganese, copper, and iron are some other chemicals found in sprouts.

They are also very good antioxidants and have cancer fighting properties. They have few calories and “are particularly high in protein when compared to other green vegetables” (Medical News Today). The list of benefits goes on to include a healthy complexion, increased energy, and improved vision.

That’s quite a load of nutritious goodies packed into the little green cabbages. You’re not going get that from a stacked cheeseburger and fries.

How to Buy Brussels Sprouts

They are best bought at farmer’s markets where they are sometimes sold still on their growing stalks. The fall is when they are at their peak and they are at their absolute best if they’ve been hit by a frost.

Supermarket sprouts are a step down but will have to do for most of the year. They store well so they may be a few weeks old by the time they hit the shelf.

Look for small, tight, dark green sprouts. If the leaves are turning brown or yellow and there are openings at the stem think about switching to cauliflower.

If you have a patch of land you can grow them yourself. They are a cool climate crop, so they won’t do well in Louisiana, Mexico, or Australia. Stick them in the ground as soon as you can work the soil and harvest after the first couple of frosts in the autumn.

Never buy frozen Brussels sprouts. They are watery and awful. I don't know why they bother packaging them.

Cooking the Humble Sprout

Slice off the bottom of the stem and chop the little blighter in half, top to bottom. Peel off any loose leaves for compost.

Roast or steam? Both are good.

Use about two tablespoons of olive oil per pound of sprouts and toss in a bowl until well coated. Spread them out on a baking sheet, cut side down. Allow plenty of space between each so they’ll caramelize nicely rather than steam.

You need to roast at a high temperature; about 450 F for 15 minutes will get the job mostly done. Then flip them over for another five minutes. Mmmmm.

Steaming is quicker. Prepare as before. Place in a steamer basket with a small amount of water in the pot. Bring to a boil and steam for about five minutes.

There are many refinements to gussy up your cooked sprouts. A little drizzle of balsamic vinegar, a sprinkle of toasted pine nuts or bacon bits, and freshly grated Parmesan cheese are all good additions.

Every recipe ever written says to sprinkle with salt—sea salt, kosher salt, some go all up-market foodie and demand nothing less than fleur de sel. Me? I never use added salt in anything. So there.

Thou Shalt Not Overcook Sprouts

The absolute worst thing to do to sprouts is to overcook them. Doing so will destroy much of their nutritional value and fill your home with a very unpleasant pong.

Boiling the life out of Brussels sprouts is probably where most of the vegetable’s bad reputation comes from. Mushy and pungent with sulphur is not what the goal is.

Improper cooking has caused lots of people to say “I hate Brussels sprouts” without ever having tried them. There may be a reason for that.

Some people, apparently, can be let off the hook for not liking the wonderful veggie. Here’s the BBC’s Science Focus, “A 2011 study by Cornwall College found that sprouts contain a chemical, similar to phenylthiocarbamide, which only tastes bitter to people who have a variation of a certain gene.” It’s said that half the world’s population might suffer from this affliction.

Bonus Factoids

• In December 2016, the British comedy channel Gold challenged people to come up with the best contemporary Christmas cracker joke. And the winner is—drum roll please—Laura McDon. “How will Christmas dinner be different after Brexit? No Brussels.” People have been shot for less.
• Brussels sprouts may have been grown during the time of the Roman Empire; however, they are named after the capital of Belgium where they are first referenced in the 13th century.
• J.M. Barrie ordered Brussels sprouts for lunch every day while rehearsing his play Peter Pan. However, he never ate them. His friend William Nicholson asked about this rather strange behaviour. Barrie told him, “I cannot resist ordering them. The words are so lovely to say.”
• A Swedish man, Linus Urbanec, ate 31 Brussels sprouts in a minute in November 2008. Emma Dalton of the United Kingdom devoured 325 sprouts in 36 minutes in December 2016. These are both world records.
• In May 2014, Stuart Kettell pushed a Brussels sprout up Mount Snowdon in Wales using his nose. The stunt was to raise money for a cancer charity and took four days to complete the 3,560-foot (1,085-metre) “climb” to the summit.

Sources

• “What Are Brussels Sprouts Good For?” Food Facts, undated.
• “How Healthy Are Brussels Sprouts?” Megan Ware RDN, Medical News Today, January 19, 2018.
• “The Brussels Sprouts Dynasty: Chefs Chat About the World’s Formerly Most Hated Vegetable.” Anneli Rufus, HuffPost, December 6, 2017.
• “Brussels Sprouts.” BBC, Quite Interesting, undated.
• “Why Do Some People Hate Brussels Sprouts?” James Lloyd, BBC Science Focus, December 23, 2014.

© 2018 Rupert Taylor

Comments

Kari Poulsen from Ohio on February 20, 2018:

Mmmm, I love brussels sprouts. Now I will get some next time I'm at the store. That is very interesting about the gene. I can guarantee I do not have it, lol.

I've spent half a century (yikes) writing for radio and print—mostly print. I hope to be still tapping the keys as I take my last breath.

More and more health-conscious people are using honey as a sweetener, and they are happy to see its price coming down. But, how can this be when the bees that make honey are dying, and production is down? The unfortunate thing is that consumers may not be getting what they are paying for—low-cost imports of a product that is claimed to be honey have flooded markets in North America.

Why Are Bees Dying?

A strange ailment called colony collapse disorder has been striking hives everywhere. Various theories have been put forward:

• The widespread use of pesticides and insecticides;
• Microwaves carrying cellphone signals disrupt bee navigation so they can’t find their way back to their hives;
• Industrial emissions of diesel and gasoline fumes are stressing bees;
• Climate change alters the plants on which bees forage;
• Industrial agricultural monoculture of crops that offer no nectar ;
• A parasitic mite infestation; or
• A combination of all of the above.

In May 2015, the U.S. Department of Agriculture reported that “Losses of managed honey bee colonies were 23.1 percent for the 2014-2015 winter but summer losses exceeded winter numbers for the first time, making annual losses for the year 42.1 percent.” Similar losses have been reported globally.

“Bees are dying by the tens of billions” (Netflix documentary Rotten).

Supply and Demand

The consumption of honey is going up, particularly in North America. Packaged food producers have been switching from sugar to honey to satisfy consumer demand for more natural ingredients. So, honey is turning up in cereals, potato chips, cough drops, cookies, beverages, even sliced ham.

But honey production is dropping. Economics 101 says that isn’t possible unless some other factor is coming into play. And, there is another factor.

Norberto Garcia, the President of the International Honey Exporters Organization, explains: “In some way, there seems to be a surplus of honey. Where does that honey come from? If we consider that production is decreasing, and the demand is increasing, the only way to explain that gap is honey adulteration.”

What’s happening is that honey is being diluted with cheap syrups, and, to hide its origin, all of the pollen in it is removed. Natural, raw honey contains the pollen of the plants from which the bees collected the nectar. The pollen of each plant has a unique signature so the source of the honey can be pinpointed.

Vaughn Bryant is a professor at Texas A&M University and a world-renowned expert on pollen in honey. He tested store-bought honey from around the U.S. and found that 76 percent of the honey from supermarkets was devoid of pollen. All the honey from drugstores and those little packages served in restaurants were pollen-free.

Companies Are Trying to Cut Costs

Grant Hicks runs 11 thousand hives in Canada. He and other beekeepers are watching their businesses go under as food companies switch to cheap imports.

The Canadian Press reported that Hicks “. . . and others in the industry believe some imports of honey are diluted with other sweeteners and then purchased at cut-rate prices to be used as an ingredient in cereals, granola bars, and other food products in an effort to save producers from paying more for made-in-Canada honey.”

In 2011, Canada imported 2.8 million kilograms of honey; this has risen to a current level of about seven million kg a year.

Rice Syrup

Food inspection agencies have developed ways of detecting cheap fillers made from corn syrup. But, the system could not identify syrups made from rice. This is where Chinese honey producers entered the market at prices that undercut North American honey producers. At the low prices, Norberto Garcia says “. . . consumers are eating a product that is not honey.”

The U.S. put a huge tariff on Chinese honey to protect domestic producers. China’s response was to tranship their honey through third countries, where the honey is relabelled and sent on its way with doctored laboratory reports.

“The only reason for being a bee that I know of is making honey. And the only reason for making honey is so as I can eat it.”

— Winnie the Pooh

Suddenly, Malaysia became a major honey exporter, delivering almost 17 million kg of honey in one year; this from a beekeeping industry that was capable of producing only 17,000 kg in a year. India has become another major transshipment country whose deliveries vastly exceed domestic production.

In April 2016, U.S. government agents intercepted 60 tons of Chinese honey. Bee Culture, the magazine of American beekeeping reported that “The 195 barrels of bulk honey found in three shipping containers were falsely declared as originating from Vietnam to evade anti-dumping duties applicable to Chinese-origin honey.”

Other Honey Additives

Jessica Leeder (Globe and Mail) reports that “Chinese beekeepers are notorious for keeping their bees healthy with antibiotics banned in North America because they seep into honey and contaminate it . . .”

And, Food Safety News reports that “A third or more of all the honey consumed in the U.S. is likely to have been smuggled in from China and may be tainted with heavy metals,” such as lead.

There are probably about seven million honeybee hives in China and a large number of them are run by small operators. Food Safety News says “The lead contamination in some (Chinese) honey has been attributed to these mom-and-pop vendors who use small, unlined, lead-soldered drums to collect and store the honey before it is collected by the brokers for processing.”

Tracking Down Bad Honey

In 2010, the 27 countries of the European Union (EU) banned contaminated honey from China and India. The EU operates a rigorous testing protocol to try to intercept the bad stuff, but it’s an endless game similar to the one anti-doping agencies play with cheating athletes.

Here’s Norberto Garcia again, “Every time a new test is developed, adulterators develop a new method, a new product” to get around the tests.

In Bremen, Germany, a company called QSI tests honey for contamination. Gudrun Beckh is the managing director. She says “It’s like a competition from those ones who want to adulterate the honey and those ones who detect it.”

The hum of bees is the voice of the garden.

— Elizabeth Lawrence

When a new test is introduced a high percentage of results show contaminated honey. After a few months, the positive tests decline. Ms. Beckh adds “This does not mean they stopped the adulteration, it just means they have found something new, which we cannot detect with the methods we have so far.”

Consumers can protect themselves when buying honey. Look for the True Source Honey logo and label on jars. The organization certifies that the honey with its label is free of contaminants.

With major food processing companies, it’s more difficult to avoid adulterated honey. However, some companies are now passing the tests and are able to state “Made with True Source Certified Honey.”

A lot of beekeepers have stalls at farmers' markets. Consumers can be reasonably safe buying from this source.

There are some other ways in which consumers can protect themselves. Daily Health Post offers a few tips:

• “Put a small drop of your honey on your thumb. If it spreads it is not pure since pure honey will stay in one place.
• “Add a few drops of vinegar into a mixture of water and honey. If it foams up, your honey has been adulterated with plaster!
• “Add a few drops of iodine to a glass of water and then add some honey. If your honey turns blue, it has been combined with corn starch and is not real honey.
• “Place a dab of honey on the end of a matchstick and light it. If it ignites, it is pure.
• “Place a spoon of honey in a glass of water. If it dissolves it is fake.”

If you’ve identified bogus honey your next challenge is getting your money back from the vendor. But, at least you’ll know which brand not to buy next time.

Bonus Factoids

• According to Forbes, pollination caused by bees and flies has a value of between $235 and $577 billion a year.
• Bees can recognize human faces.
• A worker bee lives about 40 days and makes about a teaspoon of honey.
• Collecting one kilo of honey requires 195,000 kilometres of bee travel.

Sources

• “Bee Survey: Lower Winter Losses, Higher Summer Losses, Increased Total Annual Losses.” Kim Kaplan, USDA, May 13, 2015.
• “Canadian Beekeepers Blame Diluted Imports for Plummeting Honey Prices.” Alexandra Sagan, The Canadian Press, March 13, 2017.
• “Catch the Buzz – Chinese Honey Illegally Imported, Again.” Alan Harman, Bee Culture, May 20, 2016.
• Honey Laundering: The Sour Side of Nature’s Golden Sweetener.” Jessica Leeder, Globe and Mail, March 26, 2017.
• “Lawyers, Guns, and Honey.” Netflix, January 2018.
• “How to Detect Fake Honey (It’s Everywhere), Use This Simple Trick!” Daily Health Post, January 19, 2018.

© 2018 Rupert Taylor

I've spent half a century (yikes) writing for radio and print—mostly print. I hope to be still tapping the keys as I take my last breath.

Victorian and Edwardian cooking exploits in England did not outlive the two monarchs for which the eras are named, and for good reasons. Meals were heavily loaded with stodgy ingredients aimed at keeping out the cold more than appealing to the palate. What could more exemplify that culinary tradition than a dish called Brown Windsor Soup? Or does it? And, is it a creation of Victorian kitchens? A mystery lies ahead.

What Is Brown Windsor Soup?

In the public imagination, Brown Windsor Soup (BWS) has become synonymous with all that was horrible about British cooking. It became fodder for many British comedy routines; somehow, simply mentioning the concoction was deemed to be funny.

However, an unidentified writer in The Independent defended the dodgy reputation in 2004 by writing “It’s a nourishing, thick and beefy affair boosted with a drop of sherry.”

Sam Nutt of the BBC was less enthusiastic after making a batch: “… it seemed like a lot of effort for something that tasted rather plain and a bit fatty – and that looked very brown!”

There are many variations masquerading as Brown Windsor Soup but they all amount to the same thing; a combination of red meats and vegetables. Dare one simply call it stew.

Usually, there is a combination of beef and lamb with onion, carrot, and parsnip. A few herbs and spices are added and a tablespoon of Madeira wine is plopped in at the table.

That doesn’t sound so terrible that it is held up as the exemplar of the awfulness of British cooking. But, perhaps today’s recipes are interpretations of past horrors that have been improved for a new generation of foodies.

For the curious, there are several recipes on the Internet.

A shortcut has been suggested by a bit of a wag. Take the leftovers of Sunday’s roast beef, including vegetables and gravy and give them a whirl in a blender. Then add a dollop of sherry.

Queen Victoria’s Favourite?

Everywhere you turn on the Internet the broth is called, “The very soup reputed to have built the British Empire.” However, it proves impossible to track down the origin of that quotation. It also proves impossible to track down the origin of the dish itself.

It is frequently referred to as Queen Victoria’s favourite starter.

It appears in the Unofficial Downton Abbey Cookbook of 2012 vintage. One imagines Mrs. Patmore and Daisy turning out cauldrons of the stuff for Grantham family banquets.

But most food sleuths say there is no record of the dish appearing anywhere until well into the 20th century. It’s not to be found in Victorian cookbooks, newspaper stories, or hotel menus.

There are 19th century references to a Windsor Soup that was made with a combination of meats. There was also a rice-based White Windsor Soup. Apparently, diners could choose between a brown soup and a white soup to start.

Also, there was a Brown Windsor Soap that was introduced in 1818. One suggestion is that during World War II, when food shortages encouraged some strange creations to appear on the dinner table, the soup and the soap were conflated.

As the family sat down to eat and a bowl of brown sludge appeared, there might be a chorus of “Oh no Mum, not Brown Windsor Soap again.”

It looks as though the name is a mash-up; the dish existed in Victorian England, it just wasn’t called Brown Windsor Soup until much later.

More Brown Windsor Mysteries

References are constantly made to the “fact” that Brown Windsor Soup was served daily in British Railway dining cars. Except for that soup, being a substance susceptible to slopping over the sides of a bowl by the slightest lateral movement, is almost never served on trains.

In his 2017 book, The Lost Foods of England Glyn Hughes writes that “An extensive investigation carried out by the National Railway Museum … in 2013 found not one single reference to BWS in hundreds of archived menus …”

Scads of people claim they remember eating Brown Windsor Soup, but when pressed to recall where and when, they simply draw a blank.

It’s Spike Milligan’s Fault

In the 1950s, the great Irish comedy writer Spike Milligan created a radio program called The Goon Show for the BBC. (The show has been credited with being the inspiration for much of the comedy that followed including Monty Python’s Flying Circus.)

In October 1956, an episode was broadcast with the title The MacReekie Rising of ’74. Rebellious Scots attacked the Tower of London by firing porridge at the garrison.

The character Neddy Seagoon (played by Harry Secombe) says “Very well then. If the Scots want to make it a war on nutrition, we have an English dish in our armoury twice as deficient in calories as porridge and twice as deadly.”

Major Dennis Bloodnok (Peter Sellars – yes, that Peter Sellars): “Seagoon, you’re not going to fire ...”

Seagoon: “Yes, Brown Windsor Soup.”

The dish cropped up frequently as a running gag in later scripts. One such was when a character declares “I successfully changed all the Chinese back into Englishmen by giving them injections of Brown Windsor Soup.”

(Admittedly, it’s a style of humour that has seen better days but there is a certain nostalgia among old writers for when comedy did not involve an endless stream of profanities.)

BWS found its way into Carry On movies and, later, an episode of Fawlty Towers.

Bonus Factoids

If the dish was named after the royal family in Victorian times, and it probably wasn’t, it would have to be called Brown Saxe-Coburg and Gotha Soup, because the family name did not become Windsor until 1917, when the original German one was deemed unpatriotic in light of the Great War.

The Poke is a British satirical website that advertises itself as “Time well wasted.” For Queen Elizabeth’s diamond jubilee in 2012, it offered cans of Brown Windsor Soup for £40. “A classic, hearty British soup … Ingredients include: Scottish mineral water, swan parts, gin, carrots, and a manservant who dared to make eye contact with Prince Philip.”

Responding to an online article about BWS, a writer reminisced “I remember school lunch (Coleshill, Warwickshire, U.K., circa 1948/9) Brown Windsor Soup, thin and almost tasteless, I hated it, but had to sup it. Haven’t had since, nearly 70 years ago!”

Sources

• “The Greedy Queen: Eating With Victoria Review – Nothing Dainty About These Dishes” Lucy Lethbridge, The Guardian, May 28, 2017.
• “The Curious Tale of Brown Windsor Soup.” Lovefood.com, November 15, 2016.
• “Brown Windsor Soup.” Michael Quinion, World Wide Words, undated.
• “Sam’s Historical Recipe Corner: Brown Windsor Soup.” Sam Nutt, BBC History, undated.
• “The Lost Foods of England.” Glyn Hughes, Denver House, 2017.

© 2018 Rupert Taylor

Comments

Robert Bate on August 18, 2019:

I remember tasting Brown Windsor soup as a boy at a Windsor Café in the early fifties; it was absolutely delicious and never tasted any soup as good ever since that day

Rupert Taylor (author) from Waterloo, Ontario, Canada on February 02, 2018:

Kari you have been spared an atrocity.

Kari Poulsen from Ohio on February 02, 2018:

I had never heard of this soup. I have heard that English cooking is bad, lol. And that by Englishmen.

I've spent half a century (yikes) writing for radio and print—mostly print. I hope to be still tapping the keys as I take my last breath.

French fries sprinkled with cheese curds and covered with rich brown gravy. Is there a mortal whose mouth is not watering at the thought of that? If there is, then perhaps close this page and spend some time with the poetry of William Topaz McGonagall, widely acclaimed as the world’s worst versifier.

Poutine Ingredients

Spuds are the foundation of the dish, but not just any spud. Jamie Oliver’s crew suggests using Maris Piper taters. Jolly good.

Where the blazes are we supposed to find them if we don’t live in the United Kingdom where they are grown in profusion? Not to mention the international incidents that might arise out of the inclusion of an English ingredient in a Quebec-inspired dish. “Aux barricades mes amis.”

Through the wizardry of the internet, we discover that the humble Russet is a good substitute.

Then come the cheese curds. If it is your misfortune to not live in rural Quebec, as it is mine, then you are going to have to settle for less than perfection. Poutine authentique demands fresh curds from a nearby fromagerie. They are mildly and subtlety flavoured and they squeak against your teeth when you bite into them. Bellissima! Oh sorry, that’s Italian.

The finishing touch is the gravy. This must not be made from a dry powder that comes out of a packet. If it does, I will never speak to you again. Everybody has a grandmother, and every grandmother had her own recipe for killer gravy. So, that’s where you start.

Who Invented Poutine?

There seem to be as many claimants to the invention of poutine as there are establishments that serve it.

First, let’s check in at the Le Roy Jucep restaurant in Drummondville, Quebec, about two-and-a-half hours east of Montreal. There’s a plaque on the wall of that eatery that confers on it the right to call itself the place where poutine was invented.

The plaque comes from no less an authority than the Canadian Intellectual Property Office in Ottawa. But there's more to it than that. It seems Le Roy Jucep simply applied for a registered trademark as the originator of poutine before anybody else thought of the idea.

The story goes that Jean-Paul Roy created poutine in the mid-1950s. So, that settles it. No it doesn’t.

We don’t have to go far to find another pretender to the poutine crown; just another 45 minutes to the east in Warwick. A restaurant there, Le Lutin qui rit (the Laughing Leprechaun), says full poutine credit goes to owner Fernand Lachance.

The story is that in 1957, a customer asked him to toss some cheese curds onto his French fries. Other diners thought that sounded yummy, so they started ordering it. Then, there were a few grumpy folk who said the dish was getting cold too quickly. Chef Lachance’s solution was to add a dollop of hot, brown gravy.

Voila! Poutine!

There are plenty of other towns claiming to be the birthplace of poutine, although Saint Louis du Ha!Ha! is not among them. However, that fine municipality has its own claim to fame. It was recognized in the 2018 Guinness Book of World Records as the only community on the planet with two exclamation marks in its name.

Now, that's something to build a marketing campaign around.

Where Does the Name Come From?

There’s about as much debate over the name of poutine as there is about its provenance.

The Dictionnaire historique du français québécois says there are at least 15 different meanings for the word poutine. Many are derogatory and refer to someone carrying extra poundage.

A frequently quoted derivation comes from Chef Lachance, who is reported to have been unimpressed with his creation. He told his customer that the “Ça va faire une maudite poutine,” “That’s going to make a damn mess.”

Another theory is that the inventor was a man of diminutive stature who carried the nickname of “Ti-Pout”—meaning short guy. Somehow, the syllables got flipped around and ended up as poutine.

Some say, poutine is a corruption of the English word “pudding.” But that seems highly unlikely.

Abominations

Poutine migrated out of Quebec in the 1980s and is found everywhere in Canada. It has conquered the taste buds of Americans and Europeans alike. In September 2014, The Guardian in the United Kingdom called it “Posh chips and gravy” and “the perfect hangover cure.”

Eventually, the fast food chains caught wind of the phenomenon. McDonald’s, Burger King, A&W, and others serve it. Their offerings are universally awful in comparison to the real thing.

Foodies started messing about with the simple dish by adding such exotica as lobster, foie gras, and truffles. Not incidentally, this enabled restaurants to jack prices up to wallet-emptying levels and put a wonderful peasant food out of the reach of peasants.

C'mon guys. Poutine is meant to be eaten out of cardboard, Styrofoam, or aluminum containers with a plastic fork. Stop up-marketing the thing.

Even in Quebec, adulteration has taken place The historic la Banquise restaurant in Montreal makes an Italian version with Bolognese sauce instead of gravy. Quelle horreur.

But there’s worse. Brace yourself. In 2013, the Jones Soda people introduced poutine-flavoured pop. Thank whatever deity you worship this was only a limited-edition. Reviews took on an it-tastes-as-gross-as-it-sounds sort of tone.

People have been tarred and feathered for committing less serious culinary crimes.

Bonus Factoids

• According to The Toronto Star in 2013, the annual sales of poutine in Canada were worth $79 million.
• In 2014, a restaurant in Brandon, Manitoba claimed bragging rights to making the world’s biggest poutine, weighing in at 1,949 pounds. The proud folk of Quebec could not let that insult to their honour stand. The Planète Poutine restaurant in Trois-Rivières cooked up a monster poutine in June 2015. Audrey Tremblay of le Nouvelliste reported the beast involved “nearly 7,000 potatoes, about 2,000 pounds of cheese curds, about 17,600 ounces of sauce, and one hundred volunteers. The volunteers, you understand, were not part of the dish, they just helped make it.
• In 2017, the magazine Chatelaine asked 1,500 Canadians “what’s your favourite iconic Canadian food?” And, the winner is? The envelope please. Poutine was picked by 21 percent of those polled.
• There’s butter chicken poutine, prawn piri piri poutine, poutine pizza, pulled pork putine, and a poutine donut. Oh somebody shoot me.

Sources

• “Peak Poutine: How the Messy Trio of Fries, Curds, and Gravy Became Canada’s Favourite Food.” Laura Jeha, Chatelaine, June 14, 2017.
• “Poutine on the Side: A Father and Son Rediscover Each Other on a Québécois Culinary Journey.” Justin Giovannetti, Globe and Mail, December 29, 2017.
• “Poutine: the Posh Chips and Gravy Taking Over the World.” Rebecca Nicholson, The Guardian, September 7, 2014.
• “10 Things you Probably Didn’t Know About Poutine.” Sara Laux, Cottage Life, undated.

© 2018 Rupert Taylor

Comments

Paulette on May 15, 2018:

Poutine was the poor peoples' food when I was young. Your mother didn't make it, you went to a roulotte ( french fry wagon ) and asked for des pomme frites, sauce et des crottes de fromage (literally cheese dung). The curds go on the fries & the sauce onto that so that the heat from below plus the heat from above melt the curds. I tried some at a Swiss Chalet in Quebec last year and was disgusting. They had no idea.

Kari Poulsen from Ohio on January 15, 2018:

LOL, I better keep it on the down low if I ever try it.

Rupert Taylor (author) from Waterloo, Ontario, Canada on January 14, 2018:

I have heard that some sacrilegious people have used grated mozzarella but if the Quebecois ever hear of that being done they would like mount an invasion on the miscreant.

Kari Poulsen from Ohio on January 14, 2018:

LOL, I had never heard of these before. What do you use as a substitute for the cheese curds?

I've spent half a century (yikes) writing for radio and print—mostly print. I hope to be still tapping the keys as I take my last breath.

We all plod the aisles of wine shops and liquor stores looking for something that isn’t too skunky at a price that doesn’t involve selling a kidney. For others, the price doesn’t matter, except in that it gives the buyer bragging rights over mere mortals.

An Investment Not a Tipple

Oliver Pickup of The Telegraph asks, “Wondering how best to invest that £10,000―or more―you have spare?”

(Actually no, Mr. Pickup. My concern is where that ten grand is going to come from in the first place. But, a writer shouldn’t put himself in the story so we’ll set that issue aside.)

The same United Kingdom newspaper comes up with the answer by advising us that fine wines have “been one of the best performing asset classes of the last 20 years.” Forget about putting money into mutual funds, buy a case of expensive plonk and sit on it.

If you are a high roller, you’ll want to be collecting bottles of Domaine de La Romanée Conti. This small Burgundy winery, known to the cognoscenti as DRC, only turns out 5,000 to 5,500 bottles a year.

The value of each undrunk bottle zooms up and up. One imagines very few are uncorked and drunk to accompany say a barbecued hot dog; the value is that the wine stays in the bottle.

The Burgundy 150 Index is sort of like the New York Stock Exchange Index only for vino. According to the wine index, DRC wine rose in value by 298 percent between 2002 and 2017.

Cult Wines

Why does Domaine de La Romanée Conti command a price of $2,000 a bottle? Wine writer Jeannie Cho Lee says the 2014 vintage is “complex and generous.” Apparently, it is also “earthy,” with a “persistent texture of velvety tannins” with “plenty of vertical intensity and long length.”

Wow! No price is too high to get a taste of happy juice of that quality.

That DRC output is what is known as a “trophy” or “cult” wine. People will pay exorbitant prices for the stuff because they believe someone else will pay an even more exorbitant price for the same stuff a few years down the road.

It’s a bit reminiscent of the Dutch bulb hysteria of the 17th century when people would pay an entire year’s income for one bulb in the belief they could sell it for more later. It didn't end well.

Among wine investors, the higher the price, the greater the attraction. In 2006 a vintner told Decanted magazine “on several occasions we have had difficulty selling wines at $75, but as soon as we raise the price to $125 they sell out . . .”

Of course, with cult wines the prices are higher. A bottle of 2010 Screaming Eagle Cabernet Sauvignon from California’s Napa Valley will set buyers back about $3,400.

But, here comes Fine Wine Concierge to prick the bubble of the long-term investor. Cabernet Sauvignon “With its tannins, this is among the best-ageing wines out there. Bottles will keep for 7–10 years.”

Open up a 100-year-old bottle of Bordeaux, and it might well smell and taste like sheep dip. So, best to move the vintages along before they turn funky.

The Thomas Jefferson Wine

With people willing to pay thousands of dollars for a bottle, it's inevitable that some shady characters are going to be attracted to the trade.

Hardy Rodenstock is a world-renowned dealer in wine, but, writes Benjamin Wallace in The Independent (October 5, 2008), he used to be “Meinhard Goerke, a high-school graduate and apprentice labourer with the German railway whose tastes ran to beer and schnapps.” He also worked promoting popular music.

In 1985, Rodenstock announced a remarkable discovery in a bricked-up cellar in an old house in Paris. Workers had demolished a wall and found a hidden store of old wines, that, according to Wallace “included 18th-century bottles from some of the finest châteaux in France.”

Among the vintages were a few bottles of 1787 Chateau Lafite engraved with the initials “Th. J.” The bottles were assumed to have belonged to Thomas Jefferson who had lived in Paris from 1784 to 1789, prior to becoming the third President of the United States.

One of the world’s greatest wine experts, Michael Broadbent, examined the wine and pronounced the Lafite authentic.

When three bottles of the ancient brew came on the market, William Koch, the President of the gold mining and energy company, Oxbow Corporation, was happy to pay $500,000 to acquire them.

The Billionaire's Vinegar

But, then suspicions started to be raised about the wine’s provenance. Rodenstock had always been secretive about how the “Jefferson Wine” came into his possession. And, there were other finds of rare, old wines that seemed to fall into his lap.

When the stories reached William Koch’s ears, he decided to investigate. He hired a team of private investigators along with a former FBI agent, and they started to turn up evidence that Rodenstock had a murky past.

One of the Jefferson bottles that had been bought in Germany was tested and the wine inside was dated to 1963. There were other inconsistencies that led Koch to begin a lawsuit against Rodenstock, claiming he had been the victim of fraud.

After a long court battle, a jury agreed with William Koch.

Bonus Factoids

• In October 2014, 114 bottles of Romanée-Conti Burgundy were put up for auction in Hong Kong. They sold for £1,035,000 ($1.4 million)—around $13,328 a bottle,
• If you can say the name of Scharzhofberger Riesling—Trockenbeerenauslese—without trying a reef knot in your tongue you should expect some sort of reward. But, it won’t be a bottle of the 2003 vintage, which sold for £13,110 ($17,800) in 2017.
• In the summer of 1966, the writer was traveling through the tiny principality of Andorra, high in the Pyrenees. Andorra was, and is, a duty-free haven so a bottle of scruff red could be had for about a dollar, with a deposit on the container of $1.25. Sadly, the unfinished bottle tipped over during the perilous mountain descent into Spain and the car reeked with a sour odour similar to that of stale cat pee for months afterwards.

Sources

• “Investing in Wine: Seven Things You Need to Know.” Oliver Pickup, The Telegraph, January 1, 2015.
• “The 10 Most Expensive Bottles of Wine in the World.” Sophie Christie, The Telegraph, August 14, 2017.
• “A Vintage Mess: How Hardy Rodenstock became the most Notorious Name in Wine.” Benjamin Wallace, The Independent, October 5, 2008.
• Wine Searcher.
• “How Long Does a Wine Keep?” Fine Wine Concierge, undated.

© 2018 Rupert Taylor

Comments

Dave Proctor from Alfauir, Valencia, Spain on January 15, 2018:

Hi Rupert. The bottle in your top picture may be old but, my estimate is that the recycling value of the glass is far more than the value of that particular wine!

Rupert Taylor (author) from Waterloo, Ontario, Canada on January 05, 2018:

Fess up Natalie. You could handle a $13,000 bottle on your own. I would be loathe to share it.

Natalie Frank from Chicago, IL on January 05, 2018:

It seems with this sort of thing that acquiring a wine that is even a few decades or so old not to mention so much older is nothing more than bragging rights since it would be nothing but vinegar to drink! The thought of drinking away over $13,000 in a single night (with a friend of course!) is ludicrous to me! I love your sense of humor in your righting. It makes reading your articles fun. Thanks for writing this.

Kari Poulsen from Ohio on January 05, 2018:

It is amazing how much people will pay for a bottle of wine, lol.

I've spent half a century (yikes) writing for radio and print—mostly print. I hope to be still tapping the keys as I take my last breath.

Have you ever been to a Chinese restaurant? Of course you have. Have you ever eaten the General Tso’s Chicken dish? Of course you have. Have you ever wondered where it came from? Of course you haven’t.

The Real General Tso

There actually was a General Tso. His real name was Zuo Zongtang, which was romanized into Tso Tsung-t’ang.

He was said to be a brilliant commander during the Taiping Rebellion (1850–1864). It was the bloodiest civil war in the history of the world, with the death toll estimated at 20 million on the low end and 100 million at the top.

“Ruthless” is a word that pops up in descriptions of the general. He condemned some of his captured enemies to the gruesome death of a thousand cuts.

Now, there’s something to put on your resume: “I was at least partially responsible for the death of millions. Though not in any way responsible for the creation of General Tso’s Chicken.”

What Is General Tso’s Chicken?

This is not a recipe. No definitely not. Chefdaddy on Allrecipes.com describes it as “A genuinely mouth-watering dish with an Asian kick that will knock your chopsticks off!”

Not surprisingly, the main ingredient is pieces of battered and deep-fried chicken; thigh meat with the skin still on is recommended. Blah until the sauce is added.

Garlic, red chilies, ginger, rice vinegar, soy sauce, and a whole bunch of other things go into the sauce. The fried chicken is plunged into the sauce and everything bubbles along for a while before being served over a bed of rice along with broccoli.

There are innumerable variations, but they all end up with a tangy sweet-and-sour flavour. There are also many spellings: Tsao, Tse, Gao, Tong, Tang, and others.

For the health-conscious, a standard serving of 100 grams (4 ounces) will typically contain:

• Calories: 1,300
• Saturated Fat: 11 grams
• Sodium: 3,200 mg

(Figures from the Nutritional Action Health Letter, April 2007)

That’s about half your daily calorie allowance, 70 to 80 percent of your fat allowance, and more than twice your sodium allowance. But the steamed broccoli is very good for you.

A Product of Hunan?

It’s said that General Tso’s Chicken is based on the cuisine of Hunan Province, the birthplace of the general himself. However, those who have travelled there and been suddenly overcome with a hankering for a taste of this dish say it can't be found anywhere in Hunan.

Fuchsia Dunlop lived in Hunan and says she scoured restaurants in vain and realized that “General Tso’s Chicken was somewhat alien to the local palate because Hunanese people have little interest in dishes that combine sweet and savory tastes.”

So, how did it come to be seen as the pinnacle of Hunanese cooking?

Blame It on Mao

In the chaos that followed the Chinese Civil War, Mao Zedong’s communist forces took control of all of mainland China. The remnants of the losing Nationalist side fled to their last redoubt of Taiwan, and among them was a chef called Peng Chang-kuei. He had been born into poverty in Hunan and had worked his way up in the culinary trade to be placed in charge of banquets for the Nationalist government.

In exile, he continued catering and inventing new dishes, one of which was General Tso’s Chicken, which was served in his restaurant in Taipei.

He developed it in the 1950s and said, “Originally the flavours of the dish were typically Hunanese — heavy, sour, hot, and salty.” He named it after General Tso, a revered hero in Hunan.

As time went by, the dish changed and sweetness was added to appeal to the palates of people outside Hunan.

Fuchsia Dunlop writes that “In 1973, Peng went to New York, where he opened his first eponymous restaurant on 44th Street.” This was the first taste New Yorkers had of Hunanese cooking and they liked it; they liked it a lot.

Dirty Work in the Culinary World

However, there are other claimants to the creation of the dish. T.T. Wang was a Manhattan chef working for Michael Tong, owner of New York’s Shun Lee Palace. Mr. Tong says it was the brilliant T.T. Wang who invented General Tso’s Chicken in 1972.

But, that story has some murky roots. Mr. Wang went to Taiwan and visited Peng Chang-kuei’s restaurant in Taipei in 1971. The implication is that he “borrowed” the dish (stealing is such as ugly word). Its origin was disguised at the Shun Lee Palace by giving it the name of General Ching’s Chicken.

So, when Chef Peng opened his restaurant in Manhattan in 1973, he was thought to have copied Wang’s recipe. Former U.S. Secretary of State Henry Kissinger frequently dined at Peng's restaurant, where he always ordered General Tso's Chicken. Media coverage of Mr. Kissinger's meals made the dish and its creator famous.

That’s one yarn about how the concoction came to be. There are others.

Eileen Yin-Fei Lo offers one of them. The Chinese-American chef and cookbook author says it’s a classic Hunan dish. In her 1999 book Chinese Kitchen, she says it’s called “chung ton gai,” a translation of which is “ancestor meeting place chicken.”

Peng Chang-kuei died in late 2016 at the age of 98 with the strongest claim to being the inventor of General Tso's Chicken.

Bonus Factoids

Ironically, several restaurants in Hunan are now serving the “traditional” General Tso’s Chicken.

Michael Browning, writing in The Washington Post notes that “Hunanese cuisine tends to build up inside you, like a slow charcoal fire, until you feel as though your belly is filled with burning coals.” Yum, yum.

Most authorities say General Tso’s Chicken did not exist until the 1950s at the earliest, so, because the general died in 1885, he could never have eaten it.

Sources

• “General Tsao’s Chicken II.” Allrecipes.com, undated.
• “Hunan Resources.” Fuchsia Dunlop, New York Times Magazine, February 4, 2007.
• “Who Was General Tso and Why Are We Eating His Chicken?” Kimberly Kohatsu, HuffPost, December 2, 2017.
• “The Definitive General Tso’s Chicken Page.” Eric A. Hochman, undated.
• “Who Was General Tso and Why Are We Eating His Chicken?” Michael Browning, The Washington Post, April 17, 2002.

© 2017 Rupert Taylor

Comments

Natalie Frank from Chicago, IL on May 16, 2018:

Your writing style is definitely entertaining. I couldn't help having a laugh or two escape which got me looks at the coffee shop I'm currently sitting in. Fitting something as basic as the name of a popular Chinese dish into the history of the area in determining where the name came from is fascinating and creative. Thanks for the article.

Kathy Henderson from Pa on December 28, 2017:

I love General Tso's and this article is very informative :)

Louise Powles from Norfolk, England on December 26, 2017:

Oh I've eaten that loads of times, so interesting to know the story behind it.

I've spent half a century (yikes) writing for radio and print—mostly print. I hope to be still tapping the keys as I take my last breath.

Battered by North Atlantic storms and often shrouded in fog, the cooks of Newfoundland have developed dishes aimed at repelling the cold and the damp. For centuries, most of the people on island were poor, so their traditional food is basic. The island’s soil is generally of low quality and the growing season is short, so root crops dominate. And, then, of course, there’s fish.

The Ocean’s Bounty

The explorer John Cabot landed at Bonavista on Newfoundland’s east coast in 1497. His crew reported that “the sea there is full of fish that can be taken not only with nets but with fishing-baskets.” Lower a basket over the side of the ship and haul it back up loaded with cod.

But, overfishing caused the cod stock to collapse in the early 1990s. However, there are many Newfoundlanders who say the big villains in the disappearance of the cod are seals: “Well, they ain’t eatin’ turnips are they?”

But, there is still cod to be had, as well as other seafood.

Cod is so much a part of Newfoundland, known locally as The Rock, that when an islander says fish, he or she means cod; the two words are interchangeable.

Cod tongues, and cheeks are, so it’s claimed, a sought-after delicacy. They are deep fried and sprinkled with small pieces of crispy fried pork fat known as scrunchions. It’s an acquired taste they say. My one experience of the dish did not lead to acquiring a taste for a second helping. Quite fatty, I recall. Perhaps, I got a bad batch.

Seal flipper pie is traditionally made during the Lenten season, which coincides with the annual seal hunt. The flippers are pan-fried and then roasted with onions, root vegetables, pork fat, and a good slosh of Newfoundland Screech (rum).

The Smithsonian Magazine does not sound overly enthusiastic about this dish, “The meat is dark, tough, gamey, and apparently has a flavour similar to that of hare.” And, that flavour may explain why seal flipper pie is usually served with a liberal amount of Worcestershire Sauce.

The Canadian Broadcasting Corporation adds that the dish is “something you either like or dislike, with no in-between.”

Fish and brewis (pronounced bruise or brews) is another old-time favourite in Newfoundland. There are only three ingredients, Purity Hard Bread (it’s a hard biscuit that can be used to drive nine-inch nails into a ship’s timbers), salt cod, and pork fat. The bread is soaked overnight in water; it is now brewis. The salt cod and brewis are flaked and fried with pork fat (there it is again).

From personal experience, I would put fish and brewis somewhere behind pickled beets as a pleasurable food. I don’t like pickled beets, but it’s said that ex-pat Newfoundlanders crave fish and brewis.

Jiggs Dinner

Sunday dinner in Leading Tickles or Joe Batt’s Arm (they are real places) would likely involve salt beef, cabbage, and root vegetables. It’s called a Jiggs Dinner or boiled dinner.

The name comes from an American comic strip called Bringing Up Father that began life in 1913. One of the characters was an Irish immigrant called Jiggs who regularly ate corned beef and cabbage. As many of Newfoundland’s European settlers were from Ireland the Jiggs name resonated on the island.

In the past, Newfoundlanders preserved meat by salting it so that it would last through the harsh winter.

After soaking, the salt beef (about two and a half pounds) is put to boil in a pot with a cloth bag containing about half a pound of split yellow peas. Let that simmer for a couple of hours and add six potatoes, five carrots, two parsnips, a turnip (rutabaga), and a head of cabbage―all chopped. Another 20 to 30 minutes of simmering and then remove. Mash the peas with butter and black pepper and serve. Gravy, sweet mustard pickles, and pickled beets are considered acceptable garnishes.

This produces a massive dinner, which is a good thing because families tended to be large in Newfoundland’s past. And, leftovers could be served up as hash, which Newfoundlanders call couldn'ts, as in "couldn’t finish it."

If a scoff (Newfoundland word for a good feed) of Jiggs Dinner doesn’t keep out the winter cold nothing will.

And for Dessert

Figgy Duff is a rib-sticking pudding that, of course, has nothing to do with figs. For etymologists, figgy comes from an old Cornish word for raisins and duff is a corruption of dough.

The ingredients―flour, butter, raisins, brown sugar, molasses, and breadcrumbs―are mixed together with ginger, allspice, and cinnamon. This is then boiled in a pudding bag and served with a generous drizzle of hot rum sauce.

In a similar vein, there is the bakeapple that, naturally, has nothing to do with apples. The central ingredient a fruit that grows in peat bogs that some call a bog berry or swamp berry. But the marketing people got hold of these unappealing names and named it cloudberry. It goes in pies, tarts, and jams.

It's an expensive delicacy because pickers have to bend double to pluck them off the low shrubs on which they grow, all the while fighting off clouds of mosquitoes.

There’s a theory that the name comes from a French explorer of long ago who asked, “baie qu’appelle?” (what is this berry called?). Phonetically, and massaged by a Newfoundland accent, brings us to bakeapple.

How to Become an Honourary Newfoundlander

Those unfortunates who are not born on The Rock can still become honourary Newfoundlanders. After dinner in many establishments visitors can take part in a screech-in ceremony; it is not optional. Dressed in oilskins, gum boots, plaid shirts, and Sou’Westers, inductees are addressed by the Master of Ceremonies.

“Do ye all want to be Newfoundlanders?”

The inductees reply “Indeed we do me old cock and long may your big jib draw.” (A nautical term about favourable winds).

Then everybody gets to kiss a cod on the lips, eat a slice of Newfie Steak (Baloney), and throw back a shot glass of screech.

After all that fun, the inductee is handed a certificate to honour her or his elevated status as an honourary Newfoundlander.

Come From Away Cast Perform a Screech In

Bonus Factoids

• Moose appears on numerous menus because the island is almost overrun by the ungainly critters. They were introduced 100 years ago and now number more than 100,000.
• Fussell’s Thick Cream is exactly what its name suggests; a sterilized cream packed in cans. It is a Newfoundland staple and periodic shortages nearly bring the pitchforks and torches into the streets.
• In 1851, Newfoundland had an exhibit at The Great Exhibition of the Works of Industry of All Nations in England. The Rock's display was devoted entirely to cod liver oil.

Sources

• “On the Menu This Easter in Newfoundland: Seal Flipper Pie.” K. Annabelle Smith, Smithsonian, March 27, 2013.
• “Jiggs’ Dinner.” The Canadian Encyclopedia, March 4, 2015.
• “Iconic Canadian Food: Figgy Duff – Getting Figgy with It.” Marlene Cornelis, Food Bloggers of Canada, undated.
• “Cherished Berries from the Rock.” Cinda Chavich, Globe and Mail, March 27, 2007.
• “Screech In” Upalong.org, undated.

© 2017 Rupert Taylor

Comments

Kari Poulsen from Ohio on November 16, 2017:

Thanks for the very intriguing look into the foods of Newfoundland. I do not think I could eat much there, as I am not a fish lover, lol.

I've spent half a century (yikes) writing for radio and print—mostly print. I hope to be still tapping the keys as I take my last breath.

U.S. President George H.W. Bush once told U.S. News and World Report, “I do not like broccoli. And I haven’t liked it since I was a little kid and my mother made me eat it. And I’m President of the United States, and I’m not going to eat any more broccoli!” He banned the vegetable from Air Force One. If only he had been fed this dish, the history of the world might have been different.

Preparation Time

You know how this works. Recipes always lie about the time it takes to cook up something; dishes are forever “quick and easy.” This recipe takes as long as you like; it depends on how many people are in the kitchen, the quality of the conversation, and the amount of wine available. In a well-regulated kitchen, there should be plenty of each commodity. So, let’s say 90 minutes—give or take.

Ingredients

• 8 cups of chopped broccoli florets
• 6 tablespoons of butter (margarine if you have to)
• 6 tablespoons of diced Spanish or Vidalia onion
• 4 tablespoons of flour
• 2-1/2 cups of 1% milk
• 4 cups of grated Swiss or Gouda cheese (Mongolian yak cheese if that’s your preference but I wouldn’t advise it)
• A smidgen of Parmesan (see below)
• 4 eggs, beaten (but gently so it doesn’t hurt too much)

Method

1. Steam the broccoli. I like to bring the water to a boil and then switch off the juice. After a couple of minutes bathing in the scalding water, put the beautifully bright green veg into a colander and set aside.
2. Cook the onion until soft in the butter, add the flour and stir.
3. Slowly add the milk and stir until the sauce thickens and remove from heat.
4. (You could do a short-cut and use a can or two of condensed mushroom soup. But I don’t hold with that kind of thing. So there. Slow food, yea!)
5. Stir in the broccoli, cheese, and eggs.
6. I like to goose up the flavour with a smidgen of freshly grated parmesan. A smidgen is a carefully calibrated measure equivalent to about a handful, or, if you are Donald Trump, two heaping handsfull.
7. Pour into a greased (that standard recipe instruction sounds horrible; brings up images of Jiffy Lube) baking dish of generous proportions. I also like to sprinkle some extra cheese on top. Breadcrumbs too if you like.
8. Bake uncovered at 375 F for about an hour.

This makes enough to last most of a week as a side dish. That’s if there are three of you in the house and one of them is George H.W. Bush. It’s also a great snack or lunch item.

Wine Pairings (Pretentious Rubbish)

Whatever you damn well please, although I caution against the younger Nigerian Chardonnays.

Bonus Factoids

• My wife and I have often said that if someone told us we could eat only one dish for the rest of our lives, this might be it. Although I think a good case could be made for Ruffles All-Dressed Potato Chips.
• According to the BBC program Quite Interesting, "Americans eat nine times more broccoli than they did in 1970."

© 2017 Rupert Taylor

Comments

Rupert Taylor (author) from Waterloo, Ontario, Canada on October 23, 2017:

Beth and Vanessa - It is very yummy.

Betty A F from Florida on October 23, 2017:

I love broccoli, and this recipe looks really good!

I'm going to give it a try!

Thanks for sharing it.

Movie Whisperer from Moreton Bay, Queensland on October 23, 2017:

Love this article.

Very funny.

Think I will even try your recipe, one of my gremlins doesn’t fancy veggies. I’m sure he will pick the green out, however, it’s worth a shot.

I've spent half a century (yikes) writing for radio and print—mostly print. I hope to be still tapping the keys as I take my last breath.

I have a friend I’ll call Derek, because that’s his name. He likes his food spicy—very spicy.

Occasionally, Derek and I go out for a curry, an activity I always find amusing but puzzling.

Derek routinely orders the hottest curry on the menu, and then asks the waiter to tell the kitchen to goose up the heat. Along with a fiery vindaloo or a particularly lively madras curry, Derek likes a side of peppery lime-pickle chutney that he slathers liberally on each forkful.

That’s when the fun starts. As I sit placidly enjoying my sweet, creamy, and cashew-flavoured korma dish (yum, yum), I watch as Derek digs into his meal. After the first mouthful, the muscles of Derek’s face begin to twitch, and there’s a sort of guttural speak along with a sharp intake of breath. Within a few seconds, Derek’s face is contorted into an expression I can only diagnose as pain.

I ask Derek why he would unleash a lava flow of spices on his mouth. He simply says it’s delicious. It doesn’t look delicious.

I have my own theory gleaned from years of browsing psychology articles in Reader’s Digest: Derek is overcompensating for unacknowledged doubts about his own masculinity by subjecting himself to suffering to prove he can take it like a man.

The Scoville Scale

In 1912, American pharmacist Wilbur Scoville developed a handy chart to let people other than Derek avoid risky chilies.

The humble and mouth-friendly bell pepper scores a zero on the Scoville scale.

At the other end of the chart is a creation called Blair’s 16 Million Reserve that boasts, you guessed it, 16 million Scoville Units (SUs).

It’s made by one Blair Lazar in New Jersey. A reviewer gave a description of this concoction: “Take infernal, multiply it by nuclear, then take a blowtorch to it - and you can begin to imagine Blair’s 16 Million Reserve ... the hottest pepper product ever produced.”

Blair’s 16 Million Reserve is not a naturally occurring pepper but a crystallized concentration of the active ingredient that causes the heat. It’s really the sort of stuff that should only be used for taking the barnacles off the hull of a supertanker.

To put the Blair Lazar's concoction in perspective, the jalapeno only kicks in 5,000 Scoville Units.

The Vital Ingredient

What gives peppers their heat?

The active compound that sets the mouth ablaze is called capsaicin. It’s chemical name, although you probably don’t want to know this, is “(E)-N-[(4-Hydroxy-3-methoxyphenyl)methyl]-8-methylnon-6-enamide.” There, I said you didn’t want to know that.

Aside from causing eyes to water and faces to turn red, capsaicin does do some useful work; it triggers the release of endorphins, the body’s defence against pain. Doctors use it to treat the skin disease psoriasis and to dull the pain of arthritis. Studies have also shown that it kills prostate cancer cells.

On the other hand, capsaicin has also been found in the venom of certain species of tarantula spiders.

The Fire Eaters

As far as I know, my pal Derek doesn't pop raw peppers of the rocket fuel variety. Some people do and post the results on social media (see below). It isn't pretty.

The world’s hottest naturally occurring pepper is the Carolina Reaper, which checks in at 2.2 million SUs. It exists because of the work Ed Currie of the Pucker Butt Pepper Company. On his website, he says he developed this beast as “Founder, President, Mad-Scientist & Chef Smokin’ Ed Currie in his Rock Hill, South Carolina greenhouse.”

In a YouTube video, three men take the Carolina Reaper challenge. As one of them says, “you chuck it in, you chew it a bit, and then you throw up.” They do just that. No price is too high to pay for fun like this.

(If you really, really have to watch this video there’s a link in “Sources” at the end of this article. No, don’t scroll down yet, you’ll miss some good stuff. Best not to watch it before, after, or during a meal).

In another video Jamie Kocher, CEO of the Waimea Bay Chili Pepper Company goes mano-y-chili with the bhut naga jolokia pepper, also known as the naga ghost chili. The chili wins.

There is a man in Washington State called Ted Barrus who calls himself the fire-breathing idiot. For reasons that appear to be mysterious, he and others post YouTube videos of themselves in combat with hot chilies. The chilies are usually victorious.

However, Barrus says after the initial burn wears off he experiences a high and sense of euphoria. That’s the endorphins going to work; you can get the same sort of rush from exercise. Just saying.

Phall Curry

If the chef is wearing a breathing mask as he prepares your order you may want to try something a little less adventurous. But, I'm sure Derek is up for this; I'll pony up for the hazmat suit.

Between eight and ten different kinds of chilli go into phall curry, depending on whose recipe is used. One of the ingredients, our old friend bhut naga jolokia, is used in the making of tear gas.

Journalist Chris Bucktin tried out the dish at the Brick Lane Curry House in London, England. Some earlier diners vomited; others hallucinated, and a couple got an ambulance ride to hospital.

Bucktin says eating the phall curry was “Like chewing on a live grenade, knowing any second it was about to detonate.

“And when it did, my head felt like it was being blown off, my body went into survival mode and sweat poured down my face.” Bucktin managed only four mouthfuls, which the restaurant owner declared a “very respectable” effort.

Bonus Factoids

Some of the hottest peppers have names that ought to serve as a warning to the unwary: Trinidad Scorpion “ButchT” (1,463,700 SUs), Komodo Dragon (1,400,000 SUs), Naga Viper (1,382,118 SUs).

Medical Daily suggests some ways of cooling down the raging inferno in your mouth after eating one of the brutes mentioned above:

• Drink a glass of milk
• A teaspoon of sugar
• Eat a bar of milk chocolate
• Chew a slice of bread

Water doesn’t work because the active ingredient, capsaicin, is oil based and water simply spreads the pain. Alcohol can bring relief but it might be a case of the cure being as bad as the ailment. The folks at Mythbusters tested hot pepper neutralizers and reported, “Truth is, you might have to drink 10 ounces of 70-proof tequila to dissolve one ounce of concentrated capsaicin compound,”

Sources

• “The World’s Hottest Pepper: Brings Pleasure and Pain Relief.” Kim Carollo, ABC’s Good Morning America, February 20, 2012.
• “World’s Hottest Curry: Our Phaal Guy Tries Dish that’s so Spicy Chefs Wear Masks while Cooking.” Christopher Bucktin, Daily Mirror, June 8, 2013.
• Blair’s Sauces and Snacks.
• “Three Men vs. the Carolina Reaper.”
• Scoville Scale.

© 2017 Rupert Taylor

Comments

Rupert Taylor on July 28, 2017:

Imran

I'm assuming you're not that Imran Khan.

I've been semi-addicted to Indian food since my teens, but age has reduced my tolerance for the fiery stuff.

pen promulgates on July 27, 2017:

Wow Rupert! I am amazed you have detailed knowledge. I have seen people call it curry or sauce or something. You know the right names - korma (curry), chutney (sauce), etc.

Super article :)

Rupert Taylor (author) from Waterloo, Ontario, Canada on July 14, 2017:

Viet Doan

Apologies for causing discomfort.

Viet Doan from Big Island, Hawaii on July 14, 2017:

My face turns red, my mouth burns, and my eyes water just from reading this article!!! Excellent research and writing, Rupert! I give your article a solid 1,075,000 score on the Scoville scale.

I've spent half a century (yikes) writing for radio and print—mostly print. I hope to be still tapping the keys as I take my last breath.

The government of the United States was strapped for money after the American Revolution, so it put a tax on booze. Almost immediately, the entrepreneurial spirit sprang to life and people started making their own liquor in seclusion—deep in the forested hills.

The industry got a new boost during Prohibition and is still going strong today as the recession following the banking crisis of 2008 spurred increased production and consumption.

According to Claire Prentice, reporting for BBC News, "Official figures are hard to come by, but experts believe as many as a million Americans could be breaking the law by making moonshine—also known as white lightning and white dog.”

How Moonshine is Made

The illicit booze starts with simple ingredients―corn, sugar, water, and yeast. Let that mixture stew away for a while as it produces alcohol.

Then, using a still, the alcohol is concentrated to produce what some call mountain dew. But, there’s a bit of skill involved that folks in the trade likely “learnt from my granddaddy.” What the moonshiner is looking for is ethanol.

The alcohol is boiled off and condensed in some sort of cooling device. Car radiators have been re-purposed to do the job, but there’s always the problem of leftover antifreeze getting into the final product. In addition, there can be lead in the old radiator and that's not a prized ingredient either.

Sometimes, amateurs make rotgut liquor with too high a methanol content. The result is blindness and death, something that happened frequently during the Depression. This is no longer a problem in America, but it is in the Indian subcontinent. In June 2015, at least 90 people died in Mumbai after drinking contaminated booze. There are dozens of other cases

If the distiller concentrates the ethanol too much, there is the ever-present danger of an explosion.

This Backwoods Booze Is an Acquired Taste

Illicit wobbly pop is rarely aged in barrels as regular whiskey is; consumption follows quickly after production.

It’s called moonshine because it’s usually made a night to avoid detection. While it’s associated with Appalachia, skullpop, as it’s sometimes called, can be found almost everywhere in the U.S. An imbiber doesn’t have to look far.

Betty Boles Ellison wrote about the moonshine trade in her 2003 book Illegal Odyssey: 200 Years of Kentucky Moonshine. She quotes Kentucky humourist Irving H. Cobb’s description of the product of local stills: “It smells like gangrene starting in a mildewed silo; it tastes like the wrath to come, and when you absorb a deep swig of it you have all the sensations of having swallowed a lighted kerosene lamp.” With a maraschino cherry? Irresistible.

Distilling Liquor Without a Licence

Moonshine may have become the tipple de jour in certain circles, but it’s still against the law to make it in many places. Penalties upon conviction in the U.S. can be anywhere up to $15,000 in fines and five years in jail.

But the big attraction of the hooch is that it’s free of taxes. Those that make and sell the eye-watering liquid in Mason jars also don’t declare their revenue as income. That kind of irks the authorities.

John Dawson Pierce, 61, of North Carolina was caught with 15 gallons of his finest quality home-brewed whiskey at his distilling operation on an island in the Pasquotank River. That drew a 30-month prison sentence, $60,000 in restitution, and the forfeiture of two boats, a pick-up, and a car.

However, in other jurisdictions, John Pierce might not have felt the law’s sting. Here’s a 2015 report from CNN: “When the global financial crisis hit the Appalachian heartlands, counties all over the region tapped into one of the few growth industries by legalizing moonshine. The first legal distillery in Tennessee opened its doors in 2010, and others followed in Kentucky, Alabama, Georgia, and South Carolina.”

Why It Is Gaining Popularity Again

Few would expect to see a flagon of moonshine sitting next to a bottle of Glenmorangie single-malt Scotch, but this is apparently something that happens.

The BBC’s Claire Prentice writes that foodies, following the trend for artisan produce, are embracing outlaw liquor as an alternative beverage to serve guests. She quotes Max Watman, author of the 2010 book Chasing the White Dog, as saying the popular view of illicit hooch “has changed dramatically. The stigma has gone. It’s become cool.”

Today’s licensed distillers try to keep the mystique of the back-country brew by marketing it in Mason jars.

The Booming Moonshine Industry

The increased popularity of moonshine does not surprise Colonel Vaughn Wilson. He makes “Custom handcrafted copper stills, forged by the Colonel himself here in the Ozark Mountains of Arkansas. Old fashion craftsmanship combined with a few modern touches makes these the finest looking copper stills available.”

According to the Colonel, the demand for his products had doubled in recent years. Having extolled the distilling virtues of his machinery the Colonel then says on his website, presumably with his tongue firmly planted in his cheek, “All copper stills are sold as art décor only.”

But, the colonel does undermine his pledge that these are not to be used as working hard liquor factories by including recipes on his website for such delicacies as Jalapeno Shine, Robert’s Cherry Bomb, and Black Beard’s Rum.

Bonus Factoids

• The leg of tall boots has for centuries been a convenient place to stash contraband as well as knives and guns. So it was during various attempts to ban the sale and consumption of liquor that people took to hiding a flask of booze in their boots. Hence, a bootlegger.
• According to NASCAR, “A bunch of dirt poor good ol’ boys who lived anywhere from Virginia on down to Georgia had no other choice to survive than the illegal whiskey business.” They juiced up their cars so they could outrun revenue agents on the twisting back-country roads. That led to bootleggers racing each other, first on roads, then on crude tracks. Today, the teams competing on the NASCAR circuit are estimated to be worth $1.4 billion.
• In 1791, the U.S. government brought in a tax on liquor. Distillers refused to pay the tax and a mob of 500 attacked the home of the inspector general of taxes in West Pennsylvania. George Washington rode at the head of 13,000 militiamen whose aim was to subdue the rebels. There was no confrontation and the so-called Whiskey Rebellion ended peacefully. Eventually, the government realized the futility of trying to collect the tax from such independent-minded distillers and repealed the law in 1801.

Sources

• “Moonshine ‘Tempts New Generation.’ ” Claire Prentice, BBC News, July 18, 2010.
• “N.C. Man Sentenced for Making Moonshine.” Lauren King, The Virginian-Pilot, January 7, 2010.
• “Exploding Moonshine: The New Golden Age of Outlaw Liquor.” Kieron Monks, CNN, June 17, 2015.

© 2017 Rupert Taylor

Comments

Rupert Taylor (author) from Waterloo, Ontario, Canada on May 31, 2017:

80 proof is not the same as 80% alcohol by volume. 80 proof translates to 40% ABV. I have no idea why the U.S. uses the "proof" measure.

Paul Edmondson from Burlingame, CA on May 31, 2017:

I have some commercial "moonshine" whisky that isn't aged in barrels, but it's 80 proof. For some reason, I thought moonshine would be stronger than cask strength whiskey like Bookers. Guess, I need to find the real thing!

Rupert Taylor (author) from Waterloo, Ontario, Canada on May 31, 2017:

Hi Paul

Moonshine is made without a whole lot of quality control and its strength depends on the whim of the moonshiner. In general though, it seems to be about double the strength of say Jim Beam or Wild Turkey, which are around 40% alcohol by volume. Some moonshine is said to be 90% alcohol by volume. Treat with extreme care.

Paul Edmondson from Burlingame, CA on May 30, 2017:

Does moonshine have a higher alcohol content than other whiskeys?

Lena Durante from San Francisco Bay Area on May 30, 2017:

It's been pretty interesting to see the rise of moonshine as a beverage trend. As you point out, historically, it was a backwoods affair with a lot of "hillbilly" stigma. Now, you see it in fancy $12 cocktails!

I've spent half a century (yikes) writing for radio and print—mostly print. I hope to be still tapping the keys as I take my last breath.

Yak cheese anyone? How about horse cheese? Alpaca, llama, donkey, deer, zebra, in fact any mammal can be the source of cheese, including humans. In May 2011, a New York gallery offered patrons the chance to sample cheese made from human breast milk. An art installation entitled "The Lady Cheese Shop" was created by Miriam Simun. She is quoted by Reuters as saying, “Some people are loving it, and some people are gagging.”

Sooooo, moving right along…

The Dark Side of Cheese

As with sausage, there are a lot of things about cheesemaking that we should probably not know about.

People have been eating cheese for all of recorded history and probably before that. Cheesemaking came about by accident because milk was carried around in bags made from the stomachs of ruminants, such as cows. That’s where the enzyme rennet hangs out. Rennet curdles milk, separating the solids (curds) from liquids (whey). Curdling is a nice way of saying the milk has gone off, as when it’s all lumpy and smelly in the fridge.

Today, rennet is harvested from the fourth stomach of newly slaughtered calves, lambs, piglets, kids of the goat persuasion, etc. The stomach lining is washed, dried, cut up, and soaked in brine.

Vegetable rennet can be produced from plants to satisfy the demands of vegans.

The Cheesemaking Process

The People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA) point out another little-known cheese fact. Mammals only produce milk when they are nursing. To keep cows constantly producing milk, they are subjected to an endless cycle of pregnancy and birth. When cows are inseminated artificially, they are restrained in an apparatus PETA refers to as a “rape rack.”

Blue cheeses, such as Stilton, Roquefort, and Gorgozola, are deliberately made mouldy in a move that no marketing department would allow today.

But the folks in Sardinia go a step, two steps, oh many steps farther. In the process of making Casu Marzu cheese, holes are poked in a wheel of pecorino. Flies lay eggs in the cavities (okay, turn away if you wish), the resulting maggots eat their way through the cheese and, presumably, leave behind maggot poo. The whole shebang is then ready for eating, maggots as well if you are so inclined.

Apparently, the name Casu Marzu translates from Sardinian into “rotten/putrid cheese.” No kidding.

Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Cheese But Were Too Squeamish to Ask

"Turophile" is the word used to describe a connoisseur of cheese. These folk already know this stuff, so what follows is for the rest of us mere mortals.

Mice don’t much like cheese. The little critters have a delicate sense of smell, and some of the more pungent cheeses repel them. (One can empathize.) Dr. David Holmes of Manchester Metropolitan University in England has studied the menu preferences of mice and says what they really like is sweet things, fruit, and grains.

Speaking of Stinky Cheese...

Vieux-Boulogne claims the title of the world’s stinkiest cheese. It is made in northern France from unpasteurized cow’s milk. It can knock down a squad of French legionnaires at a distance of 50 paces (made that bit up).

There’s a bacterium called brevibacterium linens that causes the fragrance rising from an old pair of sneakers. It’s the same bacterium that gives some cheeses, particularly limburger, their bouquet.

There’s a farm in Sweden that produces moose cheese. It houses three lactating moose that will give up about two litres of milk at a session (a dairy cow produces about 25 litres a day). The farm produces about 300 kilos of moose cheese a year and it sells for about $1,000 a kilo ($455 a pound). There are an estimated 850,000 moose in Canada but nobody makes moose cheese. However, Canada’s moose are all wild and it’s not advisable to go into the bush with a bucket to start milking one. Moose can be quite bad tempered if disturbed in their natural habitat.

Cheese Is Addictive

Everybody who eats cheese knows it’s addictive, now we’ve got science to back that up. A study published by the U.S. National Library of Medicine notes that casein, a protein found in cheese, causes opiates called casomorphins to be released during digestion. Dietitian Cameron Wells says “[Casomorphins] really play with the dopamine receptors and trigger that addictive element.” Yep, cheese is the crack of the dining table.

Most of us know this but that horrible goo called Cheez Whiz has no cheese in it.

Time Magazine (January 2014) tells us that “According to the U.S.D.A., Americans eat over 30 pounds of cheese a year. 11.5 pounds of that is mozzarella, which has beaten out cheddar (9.6 pounds) for the second year in a row.” That’s because mozzarella is sprinkled on millions of pizzas a day, sometimes liberally, sometimes sparingly. Pizza Hut alone goes through 300 million pounds of mozzarella a year.

Bonus Factoids

Kyle Chayka writes disdainfully in Time about bags of pre-grated cheese that are “fibrous strings of dairy-like substance that come dusted with preservatives are literally the devil. They make foodies cry. No one should ever be forgiven for buying them, and don’t even ask about Kraft’s green cylinders of atomized Parmesan dust.” Could this have been the genesis of the campaign during the 2016 U.S. election to ban shredded cheese so as to “Make America Grate Again?”

At 888 pages, you’d think The Oxford Cheese Companion (Oxford University Press, 2016) says everything there is to be said about cheese. You’d be wrong to think that. Of the world’s approximately 1,400 varieties of cheese, this tome covers just 244 of them.

G.K. Chesterton once remarked that “Poets have hitherto been mysteriously silent on the subject of cheese.” Sir Arthur Conan Doyle might beg to differ:

The cheese-mites asked how the cheese got there,
And warmly debated the matter;
The Orthodox said that it came from the air,
And the Heretics said from the platter.
They argued it long and they argued it strong,
And I hear they are arguing now;
But of all the choice spirits who lived in the cheese,
Not one of them thought of a cow.

The creamery making Wensleydale cheese was close to bankruptcy when the claymation series Wallace and Gromit hit the airwaves in Britain 1989. The favourite cheese of the two characters was Yorkshire’s Wensleydale. Sales took off and the creamery survived.

Sources

• “35 Weird Facts Only A True Cheese Lover Would Know.” Bobby Glennon, Cheeserank.com, January 23, 2015.
• “Cheese.” Quite Interesting, undated.
• “Canadian Moose Cheese.” The Canada Cheese Man, undated.
• “Cheese really is Crack. Study Reveals Cheese is as Addictive as Drugs.” Jenn Harris, Los Angeles Times, October 22, 2015.
• “10 Crazy Facts about Cheese.” Dan Myers, The Daily Meal, June 6, 2016.
• “Why Mozzarella Is the Worst Cheese There Is.” Kyle Chayka, Time, January 21, 2014.

© 2017 Rupert Taylor

Comments

Dora Weithers from The Caribbean on March 02, 2017:

WOW! Cheese is one of the few foods I never get tired of; and here you told things I'm not so glad to know. Thanks anyway, I really should know.

I've spent half a century (yikes) writing for radio and print—mostly print. I hope to be still tapping the keys as I take my last breath.

In 1945, George Orwell wrote that, “It is commonly said, even by the English themselves, that English cooking is the worst in the world.” He then went on bravely to defend the island’s chefs, listing such delicacies as kippers, treacle tart, and suet pudding.

More recently, food writer Bill Marsano gave his opinion that “All in all, I think the British actually hate food, otherwise they couldn’t possibly abuse it so badly.”

The same gentleman rendered the opinion that the nation’s cooking was the reason why the United Kingdom was such a major world power for a while: “The British Empire was created as a by-product of generations of desperate Englishmen roaming the world in search of a decent meal.”

Such negative views are mostly in the past, but they cannot extinguish my own anguished schoolboy memories of British cooking in the 1950s.

You cannot trust people who have such bad cuisine. It is the country [Great Britain] with the worst food after Finland.

— Jacques Chirac, Former President of France

The Horror of School Dinners

English schools provide a meal to students at lunchtime, so, of course, they call it dinner. Brits are like that with their own language.

The place of learning to which I was sentenced for ten years during the 1950s was a minor public school for boys; again, the perversity of the language raises its head—public schools, as they were then known, were private. The school did not have the prestige of Eton or Winchester, but what it lacked in status it made up for in the gruesomeness of the food it served its students.

Tables were set out in long rows in the dining hall, although the word “dining” is highly inappropriate. Students sat on benches creating a tableau that might well fit into a Victorian workhouse. And, the proceedings got underway after grace was said in Latin.

The basic philosophy behind the meals was that the food had to be stodgy enough to repel the cool damp that is the British climate. In the process, it also repelled the people forced to eat it.

A staple was stew. All the boys knew with complete certainty that the protein content, liberally laced with gristle and fat, was provided by whales. Okay, so that was probably not the source. Given recent revelations of horsemeat getting into Europe’s food supply chain, I have suspicions about the provenance of the meat.

Anyway, the stew was a vile, grey swill and was usually served with mashed swede (rutabaga in North America, neeps in Scotland), or cabbage boiled to a bitter mush, and mashed potatoes with large lumps lurking in the heaps.

There are ways of cooking swede to make it delicious; the addition of butter, apple, and nutmeg are mentioned. But, such refinements were a mystery in the kitchens of my school; their wisdom was that swede needed to be boiled for hours until it reached the acrid consistency of gruel before serving it to the inmates.

To eat well in England, you should have

breakfast three times a day.

— W. Somerset Maugham

On Fridays there was fish. Slabs of cod (perhaps) floated in a yellowish, pallid, and oily residue. The cod was flecked with tiny black threads that meandered through the flesh and which were widely known to be some sort of parasitic worm. No chips with this, just more lumpy mashed spuds.

And then there were Spam fritters. It is not possible to fall farther off the Epicurean wagon than coating ground up pig’s eyeballs, ears, and whatnot in batter and deep-frying it in a boiling vat of beef tallow. Shudder.

Even the cooks find Spam fritters disgusting.

Sometimes in the summer term salad showed up. Salade Nicoise? Non. Insalata Caprese? No. Crab Louie Salad? Naw. What we got was limp lettuce turning brown at the edges with always the chance of finding wildlife lurking in the darker recesses – small beetles, larvae, or, the worst discovery of all, half a caterpillar. Salad dressing? Forget it.

Dessert was almost invariably one of a series of grim milk puddings – rice, semolina, or tapioca. The rice pudding was a horrible confection that always contained large blobs of congealed starch that were thick enough to stop a bullet.

Occasionally, they would throw into the rotation – Oh! The humanity – a vile concoction of stewed prunes and figs; served up on the premise that a boy with healthy bowels was a boy with a healthy mind.

Surely, he exaggerates. Read on.

What passes for cookery in England is an abomination ... It is putting cabbages in water. It is roasting meat till it is like leather. It is cutting off delicious skins of vegetables ... A whole French family could live on what an English cook throws away.

— Virginia Woolf

Widespread Disgust

In 2003, the BBC’s Good Food magazine surveyed more than 2,000 people who had stoically endured school dinners. The result was that “Tapioca is the most hated school food of all time … cabbage, overcooked vegetables, lumpy mashed potato and, lumpy custard closely followed ...”

More than half of the respondents (51%) revealed they had “been so scarred by school dinners that the experience still affects their everyday eating habits.”

The Guardian reports that many of those surveyed recalled the nicknames they had for what appeared on their plates: “The school slang of the time resurfaces in answers to the school dinner survey—custard was ‘cat sick,’ peas were nicknamed ‘bullets,’ and Spotted Dick (sponge pudding with raisins) was better known as ‘fly cemetery;’ ” to which can be added semolina with a dollop of jam in the middle of each bowl known as “nose bleed pudding.”

Bonus Factoids

Denis G. Campbell is founder and editor of UK Progressive magazine. Here are some of his descriptions of what food was like in Britain in the 1950s:

• Pasta had not been invented.
• Curry was a surname.
• Olive oil was kept in the medicine cabinet.
• The only vegetables known to us were potatoes, peas, carrots, and cabbage.
• Brown bread was something only poor people ate.
• Figs and dates appeared at Christmas, and no one ever ate them.
• Hors d’oeuvre was a spelling mistake.
• Nothing ever went off in the refrigerator because we didn’t have one.
• Surprisingly, muesli was available in those days; it was called cattle feed.

For more than 20 years, a London restaurant has been using school dinners as its theme. Unsurprisingly, the eatery is called School Dinners and offers “good, old-fashioned British grub. A selection of specially made English sausages, (including a vegetarian option) and mash, home made pie of the day, roast beef followed by traditional spotted dick and custard.” Although why anyone would feel a nostalgic tug to the place is a complete mystery to me.

Sources

• “Tapioca Tops BBC Good Food Magazine’s ‘Most Hated’ School Dinners Survey.” BBC, July 8, 2003.
• “Tapioca Voted Worst School Dinner.” Donald MacLeod, The Guardian, August 6, 2003.
• “British Food in the 1950s.” Denis G. Campbell, UK Progressive, January 11, 2013.
• Schooldiners.com

© 2017 Rupert Taylor

Comments

Jaden Holley on November 08, 2019:

I cannot agree more

Rupert Taylor (author) from Waterloo, Ontario, Canada on November 06, 2019:

Jaden and that's just reading about it. What about us poor wretches who had to eat it? Grrrsnort.

Jaden Holley on November 06, 2019:

holy crap this food makes me wanna hurl

Rupert Taylor (author) from Waterloo, Ontario, Canada on March 01, 2019:

Hi Richard. Happy to have you quote some of my article.

Richard Bown on March 01, 2019:

Brilliant - takes me right back to my days at a boarding school in the late 1950s. I am writing a family history blog, Gerrard 1813, and this describes exactly my experience. May I quote some of it or cut and paste some extracts into a post?

Glen Rix from UK on February 20, 2017:

I've spent half a century (yikes) writing for radio and print—mostly print. I hope to be still tapping the keys as I take my last breath.

The “King of English Cheese” is not made where you’d expect it to be—in the village of Stilton.

Let’s meet a lady by the name of Frances Pawlett. In the mid-18th century, she was a renowned cheesemaker in the village of Wymondham near the town of Melton Mowbray in central England. The cheese that she made was blue-veined and creamy, and she sold a lot of her product to a gentleman called Cooper Thornhill.

The venerable Mr. Thornhill operated The Bell Inn. And, where was this hostelry? The village of Stilton, Cambridgeshire of course. Stilton was a stopping point on the coaching route between London and Edinburgh and an excellent trading spot.

Mr. Thornhill was selling lots of this new cheese so, back in Wymondham, Frances Pawlett started contracting neighbouring cheese makers to use her recipe.

This is one version, and perhaps the most plausible, of the history of the commercial development of Stilton Cheese. The Stilton Cheese website notes, somewhat diffidently, “We have no firm details of its method of manufacture or appearance, but we believe that she (Frances Pawlett) pioneered the development of the cheese in Leicestershire.”

Also, there is no evidence about how the Stilton Cheese of Frances Pawlett evolved into the Stilton Cheese that we know today.

The Stilton Rules

There are just seven dairies in the world licensed to make Stilton Cheese. All except one have quintessential English names: Hartington Creamery, Colston Bassett Dairy, Cropwell Bishop, Long Clawson Dairy, Quenby Hall, Tuxford & Tebbutt Creamery, and dull and unpretentious Websters. Together, they turn out a million wheels of Stilton a year.

To qualify as a Stilton Cheesemaker you have to be in the English counties of Leicestershire, Nottinghamshire, or Derbyshire; they’re in the middle of the country. Stilton enjoys Protected Designation of Origin status, meaning that to carry the name it must be made in those counties and the milk must come from that region as well. So, Stilton Cheese cannot legally be made in Stilton.

Britishcheese.com details other requirements: “The cheese must be allowed to form its own crust, can only be made in a cylindrical shape, must never be pressed, and must have the magical blue veins for which Stilton is famed radiating from the centre of the cheese.”

How to Make Stilton Cheese

Acid-forming bacteria, rennet to clot the milk, and blue mould spores are added to the milk. Then, explains the Stilton Cheese website, “Once the curds have formed, the whey is removed and the curds allowed to drain overnight. The following morning, the curd is then cut into blocks to allow further drainage before being milled and salted.”

Placed in cylindrical moulds, the cheese drains for several days but is never pressed. Then the cheese is sealed to keep air out and left to ripen for about five weeks.

After maturing, the cheese is pierced by stainless steel rods to let air in so the mould spores can go to work. After another month a cheese grader takes a sample to determine if it’s good enough to be sold as “Stilton Cheese,” or simply garden-variety “blue cheese.”

Some people prefer to let the cheese mature a few more weeks so that it develops “a smoother, almost buttery texture, with a more rounded, mellow flavour.”

Destroying the Rounded, Mellow Flavour

A Grammatical Digression

Mould or mold?

British usage is mould for both fungus growth and shaping containers. American English uses mold for both meanings. No wonder English is such a challenge for those brought up in another language.

Bit of a Stink over Origins

Stilton turns out to be the home of Stilton; or does it?

Recently, evidence has emerged that Stilton Cheese was actually first made in the village of Stilton about 50 km (31 miles) southeast of its current home.

Local historian Richard Landy has dug up a recipe dated 1722 for a cheese called Stilton that was made in the village. This was 20 or 30 years before the renowned Frances Pawlett was producing cheese near Melton Mowbray.

The Stilton Cheese Makers’ Association casts doubt on Mr. Landy`s claim. Here’s association secretary Nigel White: “Although a cheese called Stilton was produced in the village, we believe the finished product would bear little resemblance to the blue Stilton Cheese produced in modern times.”

Before refrigeration, making cheese was the best way of preserving milk, so people were making cheese everywhere. Any one of them can claim to be the originators of Stilton Cheese.

The Stiltonians are not going down without a fight. They’ve erected a plaque on the wall of The Bell Inn naming it “the birthplace of Stilton Cheese.”

The inn itself has tried to rebrand its own blue-veined cheese as “Stilton” and has been slapped on the wrist by the European Union. That Protected Designation of Origin rule means the pub must stick with its original name “Bell’s Blue.”

Swede mentioned in this recipe is what the British call rutabaga.

Bonus Factoids

• It takes 78 litres (136 pints milk) to make one eight kg (17 lb) Stilton Cheese.
• The British Cheese Board says more than 700 varieties of cheese are produced in the United Kingdom and that one cheese—Cheddar—captures 55 percent of the market.
• “Poets have been mysteriously silent on the subject of cheese.” G.K. Chesterton.

Sources

• Stiltoncheese.co.uk.
• Britishcheese.com.
• “Stilton really Is the Birthplace of Stilton Cheese.” Richard Savill, The Telegraph, September 22, 2009.
• “Village Stilton is BANNED from Making Cheese which Bears its Name after Officials Refuse to Bend EU Rules.” Mia de Graaf, Mail Online, October 23, 2013.
• “Interesting Facts about Stilton Cheese.” Helen Page, Travelsignposts.com. undated.

© 2016 Rupert Taylor

Comments

Linda Crampton from British Columbia, Canada on December 13, 2016:

Thanks for sharing the interesting facts. I haven't tasted Stilton Cheese since childhood. I'm keen to try it again after reading this article.

I've spent half a century (yikes) writing for radio and print—mostly print. I hope to be still tapping the keys as I take my last breath.

Melton Mowbray bills itself as the United Kingdom's “Rural Capital of Food.” This claim probably does not relate to the large factory that turns out four million items of grub for pets a day.

History of the Pork Pie

A case of unintended consequences.

Between 1750 and 1850, Britain passed laws converting common land into the private property of large landowners. From this sprang a thriving dairy industry and, therefore, cheese making.

A waste product of cheese making is whey, which turns out to be a yummy addition to the diet of pigs. So, a pork industry developed and the good people of Melton Mowbray found ingenious ways of preparing the meat. Hence—ta da—the pork pie.

Thanks to the Melton Mowbray Pork Pie Association for this narrative, which adds, “Originally baked in a clay pot covered with a rough pastry, the pork pie evolved to resemble a ‘parcel’ of pastry wrapped around a pork filling. This allowed the pie to be carried whilst at work (agricultural workers, grooms, and hunt servants would often carry them), and the pastry case was discarded before eating.”

Now, biffing pastry into a ditch is a crying shame. However, upon further investigation, it turns out the pastry from those early pies was tough and inedible.

Official Status

The writer grew up in genuine pork pie country. Stamford, Lincolnshire had four or five local pork butchers and they all offered their versions of the pie. Some people always bought their pork pies at Fancourt’s, while others swore that Nelson's pies were the best. Sadly, Nelson's is the only pork pie maker left, but it seems to be thriving. So, by default, it becomes the best producer.

There are dozens of versions of Melton Mowbray Pork Pies, but the authentic beast can only be found in independent butcher shops in the south-east Midlands of England. Never, ever will you find a proper Melton Mowbray pork pie in a supermarket.

The real deal has been granted Protected Geographical Indication; this means that to carry the name Melton Mowbray pork pie, it must be made in the traditional way and close to the town that gives it its name. All other variations must be called Melton Mowbray-style pork pies.

The need for accurate labelling might explain why the pie lady at a farmers’ market in Canada labels her product “Molten Melbury Pork Pies.” More likely, it displays a loose grasp of the English language as she also has a “Stake and Kidney Pie” on offer.

More in hope than expectation, the writer bought one of these Molten Melbury creations. It was ghastly and was long ago consigned to the compost bin.

Making a Pork Pie

What follows is not a recipe with quantities and temperatures, but a general description of how a Melton Mowbray pork pie is made. Internet recipes won’t satisfy the purists who demand the traditional pie made by only a dozen or so butchers.

Start with coarsely chopped pork shoulder and belly and add salt and pepper. Some, but not the sticklers for the genuine product, might add a little thyme, mace, and sage.

The pastry is a bit tricky; it’s called a hot-water raised pastry. It’s a mixture of flour, lard, and water. The lard is heated in water until it melts then the flour is stirred in. When it’s cool enough to handle it’s kneaded until smooth and rolled out.

Here’s where the difficult part comes in. The bottom and sides of the crust are raised by hand around a wooden mould, not pushed into a container like most pies. This should be done while the pastry is still hot and requires a high level of skill to keep it from slumping into a heap. The pie is then baked free-standing, no hoops or tins, so the sides belly out a bit.

Once cooked, pork jelly, made from boiled trotters, is poured into a hole in the top crust and the pie is cooled.

Keef Cooks a British Pork Pie and Cheats a Little

The real Melton Mowbray pork pie is always eaten cold along with pickled onions, pickled cabbage, and/or chutney. If there is an annoying nutritionist around, then by all means, toss some salad onto the plate.

Heating a pork pie must never be done. It causes the jelly and fat to melt so that it oozes out and forms an unappetizing, greasy lake around the pie. This is a relationship killer. Don’t do it. Just don’t.

Oh, and the remarkable cheese that should be called “Melton Mowbray cheese” but isn’t? It’s known as Stilton cheese and is the subject of another article.

Bonus Factoids

• Sir Geoffrey Boycott was a top-class English cricket batsman who played for the national team. For years, he did cricket commentary on the BBC. He could get a bit irascible when a player made a bad error and usually said, “A pork pie has more brains than him.”
• The Guinness people tell us the most expensive pie in the world was made by the Fence Gate Inn in Lancashire, England. Contents included Japanese wagyu beef, Chinese matsutake mushrooms, which are so valuable they are gathered under the watchful eye of guards, and truffles. The gravy was made using a couple of bottles of 1982 Chateau Mouton Rothschild wine (although the word gravy doesn’t seem to do justice to the concoction). Eight guests enjoyed this creation, each paying £1,024 a slice ($1,200), in November 2005. Oh, and the crust was sprinkled with gold leaf.
• William Shakespeare killed off 74 people in his 38 plays. His favourite method of offing a character was stabbing, which he did to 30 victims. In Titus Andronicus, his main character seeks to settle scores with Queen Tamora for her evil deeds, and comes up with the unique strategy of serving her pies into which he has baked her two sons. What’s that about “revenge is a dish best served cold?”

Sources

• “Nigel Slater’s Pork Pie Recipe.” Nigel Slater, The Guardian, May 23, 2010.
• BBC’s Pork Pie Recipe.
• Nelson’s High Class Butchers.
• Melton Mowbray Pork Pie Association.
• Dickinson and Morris.
• “British Pie Week: 10 things you never Knew about Pies.” Saffron Alexander, The Telegraph, March 7, 2016.

© 2016 Rupert Taylor

I've spent half a century (yikes) writing for radio and print—mostly print. I hope to be still tapping the keys as I take my last breath.

Okay, so brown sauce does not have the culinary cachet of béchamel, hollandaise, or béarnaise, but it does have its own distinctive peppery tanginess. Its flavour has been described as “deep, complex, and unlike anything else we’ve ever tasted.”

Some not raised in the British gastronomic heritage don’t seem to like brown sauce; words such as “revolting,” “disgusting,” and “blecch” are bandied about without a single thought to how these upset fans of the sauce.

Even some Brits affect a superior air; The Guardian once said of HP Sauce that it is “less condiment than contaminant.” Subscriptions were cancelled, and rightly so.

It forms a perfect marriage with bacon, sausage, eggs, and cheese; as a result, it’s an indispensable accompaniment to the full English breakfast.

The History of Brown Sauce

In the late 1800s, a grocer in Nottingham in the English Midlands developed a recipe for what he named HP Sauce. The brew sold well, but Frederick Garton, its inventor, was short of cash. He sold the recipe for £150 to Edwin Moore, the founder of the Midlands Vinegar Company.

For almost 100 years, the sauce was churned out of a factory in Birmingham until the mergers and acquisitions boys started shuffling the company around. In 1998, it was sold to the French company Danone for £199 million. When Danone got its hands on the brand The Guardian remarked, “It is hard to know which country’s culinary identity has suffered the greater insult.”

Eight years later, Danone passed HP Sauce on to Heinz for £470 million. (Who knew brown sauce could be so valuable?) But then, Heinz did the unthinkable—it closed the English plant and moved production to The Netherlands.

A Birmingham area Member of Parliament tabled a motion in the House of Commons to have the sauce removed from the parliamentary dining room. She received the support of just 42 fellow MPs.

There was talk of a boycott of Heinz products over its attack on the iconic symbol of Britishness, but it fizzled. Perhaps, Brits are too addicted to a dollop of brown sauce with their bacon sarnies (sandwiches) to give it up. National pride, it seems, has its limits.

The song is the reading of a label that appeared in the bottle from 1917 to 1980. HP Sauce was never marketed in France; the makers were smart enough to realize any such attempt would be an embarrassing flop. No Frenchman was going to perk up his coq au vin with a squirt of brown sauce.

What Is in HP Sauce?

The ingredients of HP Sauce are a closely guarded secret. The label on the bottle tells us there are tomatoes, malt vinegar, molasses, dates, tamarind, sugar, and secret spices in the concoction.

The mystery is in those “secret spices.” One of the spices, of course, is salt and there was a great fuss in 2011 when the sodium content was lowered. Here, once again, Heinz got into hot water.

The salt content was cut without fanfare as the company surrendered to a government request to meet new, healthier standards. The consuming public was outraged. The low-sodium HP Sauce was called bland and insipid. How dare the company give in to the dictates of the nanny state and deny the British worker a small blob of garnish with breakfast?

The "Secret" Recipe Is Reverse Engineered

Competing Brands

HP Sauce has about 75 percent of the British market. Others, such as Daddies, Branston, and supermarket chain in-house brands squabble over the rest. But, the rest is significant, as Brits consume 13 million kg of the bottled goo each year.

Even the company that owns the brand seems a little unsure of the origin of the name: “HP stands for ‘Houses of Parliament’ as it was rumoured the sauce was used in the restaurant there, back at the turn of the 20th century” says the Heinz website.

The h2g2 website says another version “attributes the HP to one Harry Palmer, sauce-maker and horse-racing fan, who first produced it as Harry Palmer’s Famous Epsom Sauce, in 1899.”

In the 1960s, it also became known as “Wilson’s gravy.” Harold Wilson was the country’s prime minister when his wife, Mary, gave an interview to The Sunday Times. She said “If Harold has a fault, it is that he will drown everything with HP Sauce.”

There were scurrilous rumours that Wilson faked his affection for brown sauce because it made him seem more a man of the people. Just like he was always photographed smoking a pipe when, in reality, he preferred cigars. (Where would we be without image consultants? A damn sight better off actually).

The zesty dressing appears to have made its way into the British royal palaces. Each bottle carries the warrant “By Appointment to Her Majesty the Queen.” “Would one care for a splat of HP Sauce with one’s meat pie Mr. President?” Other famous aficionados are said to include Jamie Oliver, Tom Hanks, and Mike Tyson. And, its Facebook page claims 194,000 likes.

Bonus Factoids

• In Edinburgh, HP Sauce is cut with vinegar, to become “soss,” and is sloshed on fish and chips.
• In January 2015, The Guardian newspaper could hardly contain its glee as it reported that HP Sauce sales were down 19 percent over the previous year. The paper has long carried on a campaign of snooty putdowns against this noble product. Calling it a “taste-bud bully,” Tony Naylor remarked that the sales decline “. . . represents a glimmer of hope that Britain’s relationship with food is, finally, maturing.”

• Ketchup or Brown Sauce with the Full English Breakfast? The Liverpool Echo reports (November 2016) “The debate has been settled and the age-old sauce argument put to the sword as 39 percent of people said it was their go-to sauce for fry-ups, with only 31 percent choosing red.” Perhaps, not as decisive a victory as could be hoped for, leading to speculation the vote was rigged by the dark forces of The Guardian.

Sources

• “HP Sauce’s Recipe Secretly Changed After 116 Years by American Owners of the Great British Condiment.” Russell Myers, Daily Mail, September 10, 2011.
• “Our Story.” HP Sauce, undated.
• “Consider the Brown Sauce.” Oliver Thring, The Guardian, May 4, 2010.
• “The HP Sauce Story.” h2g2, November 3, 2008.
• “Brown Sauce Sales Are Falling: Has Britain Finally Come to its Senses?” Tony Naylor, The Guardian, January 5, 2015.
• “Liverpool’s Perfect Fry-up REVEALED and Red vs Brown Sauce Debate Settled.” Connor Dunn, Liverpool Echo, November 20, 2016.

© 2016 Rupert Taylor

Comments

Lena Durante from San Francisco Bay Area on May 03, 2017:

I've spent a lot of time and energy trying to explain brown sauce to Americans. Now I can just point them here! Thanks!

David Hunt from Cedar Rapids, Iowa on November 23, 2016:

An article about HP sauce? About time! Brought back memories of my stay in England in the seventies. Couldn't eat breakfast without the brown sauce. Too bad the powers that be can't leave well enough alone. Very well-written, Rupert.

I've spent half a century (yikes) writing for radio and print—mostly print. I hope to be still tapping the keys as I take my last breath.

Chilli con carrion anyone? No? How about buzzard en croute? Rat curry? Okay, such dishes might insult the delicate sensibilities of sophisticated urban dwellers, but thousands of people around the world chow down on animals and birds that have had a losing argument with a vehicle.

If You Kill It, You Grill It

You’ve turned a bend in the road and a hapless possum passes under your wheels. What to do? What to do? A gentleman in Kentucky who bills himself as the Hillbilly Crackpot is the go-to guy on this file.

The one you've run over is nice and fresh but if you've found the leavings of another vehicle, “make sure the critter ain’t too ripe.” The Hillbilly Crackpot offers no advice on judging the ripeness of the animal, but, presumably, it involves some sort of sniff test.

The Hillbilly Crackpot doesn’t hold with the roadkill approach to filling the pot. Kentucky culture is under threat he laments; “How much longer will the joyous day when a man takes his son out to shoot his first possum be with us?”

Once you’ve got the beast home, you will have to skin and gut it. The Hillbilly Crackpot advises that if you are a squeamish city slicker then you’d best “just go to Wal-Mart or someplace and buy yourself some Possum Treat, that way all you have to do is open up a can and you’re eating possum.”

The recipe is uncomplicated. Cook the possum in a pot of water for an hour, throw in eight large potatoes, a “big spoon of sugar,” and some thyme and marjoram. An even simpler dish is possum, stick, fire.

This Might Just Be a Spoof

Roo on the Barbie

While most people outside Australia think kangaroos are kind of cute, many people who live in the country view them as menaces. There are more kangaroos (50 to 60 million) in Australia than people (23 million), so collisions with vehicles are frequent. The death toll among kangaroos is in the region of 20,000 a year. Occasionally, a human is killed, but it's usually because they have swerved to miss the kangaroo and have hit a tree instead.

The rule is that people are not allowed to eat dead native wildlife unless they have a permit. Permit shmermit! you’re in the outback a couple of hours from the nearest supermarket, and there’s a fresh, dead roo in the road. What are the chances a wildlife officer is going to happen by and ask to see your paperwork?

So, into the back of the ute (utility vehicle or pickup truck for non-Aussies) goes the animal. Most outback dwellers possess the necessary butchering skills and, before you know it, the roo is on the barbie.

Natascha Mirosch writes in The Guardian that, “Because of its earthy, slightly gamey flavour, kangaroo meat matches well with fruit sauces like plum, red currant, quandong (a uniquely Australian desert-growing fruit) or orange, as well as herbs such as garlic, rosemary, juniper and spices such as mountain pepper, paprika, black pepper.” The tail meat is said to be particularly succulent, but it needs to be braised—not barbecued.

West Virginia Roadkill Cook-Off

Ground zero for flat meat is the town of Marlinton, West Virginia. Every fall, the master chefs of road pizza gather in this small Appalachian community to demonstrate their skills with squirrel, bear, deer, and whatever else shows up beside the highway.

It’s a competitive business with a set of rules including a ban on pre-cooking and the requirement that each dish served up must contain at least 25 percent wild game. The judges, of course, are of impeccable character and “have been tested for cast-iron stomachs and have sworn under oath to have no vegetarian tendencies.” These incorruptible taste-testers are also on the lookout for gravel and fragments of tarmac in the stews, soups, and ragouts.

One of the more charming aspects of the cook-off is that contestants are asked to be creative in naming their offering—the more disgustingly unappetizing, the better. In 2015, Bear Butt Savory Stew came in third. Previous entries have included Blood, Rocks and Guts over Snails, and Maggots and Squirrel Scrotum Stew.

Is Roadkill Safe to Eat?

Alison “Tribal” Brierley describes herself as a “Professional Artist, Shamanic Taxidermist, Urban & Wild Food Forager, Roadkill Recycler, & Life Skill Liberator.” She told the BBC “When you start getting into it, it’s not as dodgy as most people think.”

She points out that very few diseases carried by wildlife are transferable to humans. But there are a few caveats:

• Leave the internal organs alone because they, (the liver, in particular) have been filtering out stuff you may not want to consume.
• Brains and spinal tissue might be carrying pathogens similar to Mad Cow Disease.
• If the carcass is swollen the, best advice is to leave it be and let nature’s scavengers take care of it.
• The same rule applies if the beast is giving off a malodorous scent that catches you in the back of the throat.

There is an added hazard. It’s not a good idea to field dress a deer where it has met its end. An 18-wheeler might be heading your way, and you too might become roadkill. Drag the animal well off the highway or, better yet, stuff it in the trunk and do the butchering at home. Ms. Brierley adds that “Once you start talking about cleanliness of over-processed, drugged supermarket food as opposed to something that’s been hit by a car, people start to understand it.”

There are also legal issues. In many places, it’s illegal to be in possession of roadkill. In Alaska, roadkill is the property of the state and, if suitable, is collected and given to the poor. In Canada, it’s the property of the Crown, and licenses are needed to collect it. The legislators of Tennessee tried to pass a law making it illegal to take roadkill in 1999; the state-wide ridicule was so loud that the bill was withdrawn.

Bonus Factoids

• According to Modern Farmer, roadkill “is the perfect meat for vegetarians and vegans, too, provided their objections to meat are its murder or its environmental implications and not because it’s icky-gross.”
• It is widely quoted that in 2012, the State Farm Mutual Automobile Insurance Company estimated that 1,232,000 deer were hit by cars in the United States.
• Aficionados of roadkill cuisine point out that it’s organic and free of artificial hormones and antibiotics.
• According to News.com.au, Australian wildlife scientist Len Zell says “‘nothing beats blackbird cooked in aluminium foil mixed with garlic, oil, and red wine . . . ‘After cooking it with the feathers, pull back the skin with feathers and all—it’s just beautiful.’ ”

Hungry yet?

Sources

• “How To Cook A Possum – Old Time Possum Recipe.” Hillbilly Crackpot, undated.
• “On Eating Roadkill, the Most Ethical Meat.” Brendan Buhler, Modern Farmer, September 12, 2013.
• “Scientist Len Zell Eats Roadkill and isn’t Afraid to Admit it.” News.com.au, August 22, 2013.
• “Bush Food: Kangaroo.” Natascha Mirosch, The Guardian, January 3, 2014.
• “Autumn Harvest Festival and West Virginia Roadkill Cook-off.”
• “Why you Should be Eating Roadkill.” David K Gibson, BBC, May 19, 2016.

© 2016 Rupert Taylor

Comments

Glen Rix from UK on October 18, 2016:

Yuck, indeed! Only if I would starve to death if I didn't eat it!

I've spent half a century (yikes) writing for radio and print—mostly print. I hope to be still tapping the keys as I take my last breath.

The hallowed ritual begins as the sommelier pours the precious liquid into a glass. The wine snob holds it up to the light and swirls it around declaring it to have good legs, or some such rubbish. It must be swirled—the connoisseur declares—so the wine can "breathe."

Next comes the bouquet (smell to the rest of us). There are ancient sacraments to be honoured. The glass is not to be grabbed by the bowl as we among the great unwashed might do. No, the goblet must be picked up by the base and held between the thumb and two forefingers.

The more theatrical aficionados of the fermented grape juice will waft the delicate scents towards the nostrils and announce something like “Ah, new-mown hay with a hint of almond. There may be something of a Bach fugue in the background.”

Then comes the really serious stuff. A sip is taken and the eyes close. The mouth and cheeks move in a chewing motion as the wine is sucked through the teeth.

The assembled company hangs on the pronouncement: “Very complex. I’m getting notes of gooseberry, lavender, and caramel. The mid-palate is amused by the wine’s insouciance and there’s a slightly impertinent corrugated iron finish.”

Skeptics might be excused for wondering if they have just witnessed the setting of a new world long-distance record in BS.

Pompous Wine Quotes

Justin Howard-Sneyd, a wine expert, dishes out a little perspective: “Describing wine is not an exact science; wine and taste are very personal, very subjective things. We have probably been guilty ourselves of using overblown language in the past.” No kidding.

Herewith, the black belts in flowery descriptions:

• "The 2005 Brunello di Montalcino is a model of weightless finesse (tasting of) dark wild cherries, minerals, menthol, and spices." —Antonio Galloni
• It is like ". . . a girl of fifteen, with laughing blue eyes." —André Simon

In 2013, The Broward Palm Beach New Times held a contest for over-the-top wine descriptions. The winner was: "Yo . . . did you check that Boonesfarm vintage Y2K? That was dope! It was big and bright with the complexity of Kool-Aid! It was jammy like a PBJ without those earthy tannins! You hear what I’m saying?"

And, The Economist offers some pithy commentary on the typical vocabulary of oenophiles: ". . . self-styled connoisseurs begin spouting attributes like 'graphite' (which does not smell or—if nibbling pencil ends is any guide—taste of anything), 'zesty mineral' (how it differs from plain mineral is anyone’s guess), 'angular' (huh?), or 'dumb' (indeed)."

Is It Peasant Plonk or Something Special?

Professional wine experts don’t usually submit to blind taste tests. They know they are trading in a rich line of malarkey and would rather keep the secret tightly held within the confines of the priesthood to which they belong.

However, between 2005 and 2013, California winemaker Robert Hodgson caught several of them out. He organized a series of tastings at the California State Fair. The Observer describes the judges as a "who’s who of the American wine industry from winemakers, sommeliers, critics and buyers to wine consultants and academics."

And, how did they do? "Over the years, he (Robert Hodgson) has shown again and again that even trained, professional palates are terrible at judging wine."

Price Doesn’t Equal Quality

We don’t just have to take Robert Hodgson’s word for it. A group of academics at the University of Minnesota held more than 6,000 blind tastings. They found that "the correlation between price and overall rating is small and negative, suggesting that individuals on average enjoy more expensive wines slightly less."

But, here’s the bit the wine snobs will cling to with eager hands: "For individuals with wine training, however, we find indications of a positive relationship between price and enjoyment." And, now for the summing up: "Our results indicate that both the prices of wines and wine recommendations by experts may be poor guides for non-expert wine consumers."

Hardly a ringing endorsement of the dark arts of wine snobbery.

Frédéric Brochet of the University of Bordeaux did a test in 2001. He presented the same wine to 57 volunteers a week apart. In one test, the wine was labeled as a basic table wine; in the second go, it carried the label of an expensive, superior vintage. The critics were fooled into describing the same wine positively when it came out of a high-end bottle and negatively when they thought it was a vin ordinaire.

Similarly, M. Brochet pranked 54 experts. None of them were able to tell that the one red and one white they were tasting was, in fact, the same wine. The white had been coloured by a flavourless and odourless dye. Numerous other tests have turned up similar results; professionals and amateurs are equally bad at identifying and classifying wine.

Bonus Factoids

• In the 2004 movie Sideways, the Paul Giamatti character (Miles) announces with vehemence, and an expletive, "If anyone orders Merlot, I’m leaving, I am NOT drinking any Merlot!" In the same movie, Miles heaps praise on the complexity of Pinot Noir. It may only be coincidence, but after the release of the very popular film, sales of Merlot dropped and sales of Pinot Noir rose.
• "Velvet and satin in a bottle" is how the Archbishop of Paris described Domaine de la Romanee-Conti Romanee-Conti Grand Cru, Cote de Nuits, a Burgundy, in 1780. Today, this particular plonk goes for a little over $11,000 a bottle.
• In related news, the residents of the Vatican City consume more wine per capita than any other country—ninety-nine bottles each annually.
• Overheard in a back alley: "This wine tastes like runoff from a barnyard. I’ll be glad when I’ve had enough of it."

Sources

• “Velvety Chocolate With a Silky Ruby Finish. Pair With Shellfish.” Coco Krumme, Slate, February 23, 2011.
• “Don’t Let’s Whine.” J.P., The Economist, March 3, 2011.
• “Why I Hate Wine Snobs.” Peter Mayle, The Observer, November 19, 2006.
• “Wine-tasting: it’s Junk Science.” David Derbyshire, The Observer, June 23, 2013.
• “Do More Expensive Wines Taste Better? …” Robin Goldstein, et al, University of Minnesota Department of Applied Economics, April 2008.
• “The Color of Odors.” Gil Morrot, University of Bordeaux, 2001.

© 2016 Rupert Taylor

Comments

Dave Proctor from Alfauir, Valencia, Spain on January 11, 2018:

I was a 'wine professional' My late boss was a Confrere de Chevalier de Tastevinage de Beaune (which roughly translates as a Brother of the Order of Knights of Wine tasters of Beaune, Burgundy!).

One day we tasted six wines (3 red and 3 white) open, made notes etc. then tasted the same wines blind -My boss achieved 2 out 6!

Do not totally agree with all of your inferences but enjoyed the article. Cheers and Bottoms up Dave

I've spent half a century (yikes) writing for radio and print—mostly print. I hope to be still tapping the keys as I take my last breath.

A dinner at Bangkok’s Dome Restaurant in the Lebua Hotel has been billed as the most expensive in the world. Held in February 2007, the meal carried a price tag of $30,000, not including taxes and tip.

The 10-course feast assembled by six of the world’s most celebrated chefs attracted 15 high-flyers from the business worlds of Asia and the United States—although ABC News reported that “Ten would-be Japanese diners cancelled after a New Year’s Eve bombing in Bangkok killed three people.”

The menu included: scallops, lobster, kobe beef, guinea fowl, lamb, and pigeon. The whole was washed down with rare wines and the finest champagne.

Good Meals Should Start With an Aperitif

Something to relax the temperament and prepare the palate comes in the form of a before-dinner drink.

$18,000 Martini

Tokyo’s Ritz-Carlton has just the perfect cocktail for those with money to burn: the $18,000 martini. It’s a garden-variety mix of gin and vermouth, but in addition to an olive or twist of lemon, this drink comes with a one-carat diamond. There’s also a personal rendition of the song “Diamonds are Forever” to go along with the drink.

$275,000 Champagne

Some people don’t care for hard liquor, so perhaps a little bubbly will stimulate the taste buds. As reported by St. Louis Magazine, a bottle of 1907 Heidsieck & Co. Monopole Champagne is going to $275,000 a pop. The wine was on its way to Czar Nicholas II of Russia when the ship carrying it was torpedoed by a German submarine in the Gulf of Finland. A couple of thousand bottles were salvaged in 1998 and are now on the market.

With tongue firmly planted in cheek, someone who tasted this vintage swill described the bubbly as having “intense aromas of gunflint and black rifle powder mixed with a briny note like roasted oysters.”

High-End Restaurants Are Doing Well

While the 99 percent make do with mac and cheese until the next paycheque comes in, the well-heeled are tripping over themselves trying to get reservations at some of the world’s priciest eateries.

A $2,000 Dinner at Sublimotion

Sublimotion is a restaurant on the Mediterranean island of Ibiza. For a trifling €1,900 (about $2,000), Chef Paco Roncero prepares dinner using molecular gastronomy techniques, whatever they are. Only 12 people get to sit at a communal table to celebrate a “magical achievement, of a meeting in time and space.”

Three hours and ten courses later, diners can waddle out wondering whether or not to sell their firstborn to pay for the whole extravaganza.

An $8,840 Pizza at Agropoli

For those with really, really deep pockets or a bunch of silly money they want to get rid of, there’s the Ludovic XIII pizza at Agropoli in the south of Italy.

This is not ordinary pizza with double cheese and pepperoni. The Ludovic XIII is pretty special: “The 20 cm crust,” writes Steff Sanchez of MSN News, “is topped with lobster, tuna caviar, and a pouring of Louis XIII Remy Martin cognac. And all this comes at the mouth-watering price of £6,700 (about $8,840).

It does not come in a cardboard box, nor do you have to tip the delivery guy.

Forbes Lists Expensive Eateries

At Forbes Magazine, they cater to the needs of CEOs and diplomats from impoverished countries with generous expense accounts. Writer Karla Alindahao listed some of the places where such a person could get a decent meal (March 2016). These dining rooms go in for a prix fixe tariff:

• New York: Masa’s in Manhattan—$595 per person;
• Paris: Restaurant Guy Savoy—Monnaie—$525 per person;
• Kyoto: Kitcho—$475 per person;
• Shanghai: Ultraviolet—$450 per person.

Those, of course are minimum prices—there are no maximums.

In this league, Chef’s Table, Brooklyn, seems like a real steal at $306. For that kind of scratch, you get a 15-course tasting menu that draws its inspiration from French and Japanese cuisine. It’s said to be one of the hardest tables to book in New York.

The Most Expensive Desserts

The Guinness Book of World Records gives the nod to Serendipity 3 restaurant, New York, as home of the most expensive dessert. The Frrrozen Haute Chocolate ice cream sundae carried a price tag of $25,000 in 2007.

Sadly, this confection no longer appears on the menu. They’ve gone all down market at Serendipity 3, and now all they offer is the Golden Opulence Sundae for just a thousand bucks. How is a person supposed to impress his date with a cheapy like that, even if it does come adorned with 23-carat gold leaf?

A $3,333.33 Sundae

The Three Twins ice cream company ups the ante in the sundae business. For $3,333.33 punters can enjoy the Absurdity Sundae that is “a decadent banana split made with syrups from three rare dessert wines (a 1960s vintage port, a Chateau D’Yquem and a German Trockenbeerenausiese). It’s served with an ice cream spoon from the 1850s and comes accompanied by a cellist performance.”

. . . or the $60,000 Version

But, why stop there? Diners can enjoy this piece of frippery on the summit of Mt. Kilimanjaro in Africa. The founder of Three Twins will personally accompany gourmets to the peak and make the dish. The $60,000 price tag includes first-class airfare to Tanzania, a five-star hotel, tour guide, and, of course, a t-shirt.

Diners can stare lovingly at this memento as they wait for the credit card statement to come in.

A Fruit Cake Covered in Diamonds

Such extravagance is eclipsed by the sparkling $1.65-million Diamond Fruit Cake. Created by Japanese pastry chef Jeong Hong-yong for Christmas 2005, the fruitcake is studded with diamonds—223 of them to be exact. Apart from the diamonds, the recipe is a secret, which is a shame because there must be loads of people who would want to bake one for the festive season.

Bonus Factoids

• According to Ralph Thomas, the author of Freakonomics, McDonald’s McDouble is “the cheapest, most nutritious and bountiful food that has ever existed.”
• Many of the world’s most expensive restaurants are in Japan. This should not bother Britney Spears, who once opined, “I’ve never really wanted to go to Japan. Simply because I don’t like eating fish.”
• A frequently quoted Ohio State University study says that 60 percent of restaurants fail in their first year, and that 80 percent don’t make it past five years.

Sources

• “What it’s Like to Sip a Century-Old Champagne From a Shipwreck?” Chris Hoel, St. Louis Magazine, February 22, 2012
• “Sublimotion, Ibiza: Inside the World’s Most Expensive Restaurant.” Teresa Machan, The Telegraph, June 17, 2014.
• “The World’s Most Expensive Foods.” Steff Sanchez, MSN News, August 7, 2014.
• “The World’s 12 Most Expensive Meals.” Karla Alindahao, Forbes Magazine, March 3, 2016.
• “The $1,000 Ice Cream Sundae …” Victoria Wellman, Mail Online, May 10, 2012.
• “World’s Most Expensive Ice Cream Sundae.” Three Twins ice cream, undated.
• “The World’s 10 Most Expensive Desserts: Diamond Fruitcakes & Gold-encrusted Ice Cream.” Financesonline.com, undated.

This content is accurate and true to the best of the author’s knowledge and is not meant to substitute for formal and individualized advice from a qualified professional.

© 2016 Rupert Taylor

Comments

peachy from Home Sweet Home on August 25, 2016:

my goodness!

Those price tag are way too expensive and ridiculous for anyone to pay!

How could the rich people flaunt their credit cards while the poor are going hungry?

I've spent half a century (yikes) writing for radio and print—mostly print. I hope to be still tapping the keys as I take my last breath.

Mischief in the food industry covers a wide range of sins. Mislabelling is one common offense— a company might claim a food is organic when it isn’t or sell a cheap cut of meat as a more expensive one. Some processed foods feature counterfeit labels similar to knock-off watches or designer clothing fakes. It gets more sinister when crooks contaminate food with toxic substances or "modify" expiration dates on labels.

Armies of food inspectors using sophisticated techniques such as DNA testing try to unmask the swindles, but even in rich and well-resourced countries, they are overwhelmed by the sheer size of the task. The problem is further complicated by the fact that many foods cross international boundaries on their journeys to consumers.

So, before we go stomping off to picket our supermarkets and restaurants, understand that they are also victims of food fraud. They try—but can’t possibly monitor every step in the journey from farm to table.

Food Scandals

In 2013, the people of Ireland were horrified to learn that one out of every three (37 percent) burgers they ate contained horse meat. In some cultures, eating horse meat is routine but this is not so in the Emerald Isle. There, being told you had just chowed down on minced Misty is likely to trigger a gag response.

Most people are not going to be grossed out to discover their olive oil has been bulked up with hazelnut oil. But Prevention magazine says "Researchers found that olive oil—yes, even the extra-virgin kind—is the most adulterated food . . . Other imposter ingredients include corn oil, sunflower oil, peanut oil, vegetable oil, soybean oil, palm oil, and walnut oil."

Consumers are going to be annoyed to find they’ve paid a premium price for a premium product that isn’t premium at all. However, without a sophisticated laboratory attached to their kitchens, they are unlikely to learn they've been cheated. So, where's the harm, some might say?

Food Fraud Is Big Business

The money involved in food fraud is big enough to attract the attention of organized crime. INTERPOL is on the case. Here’s a news release from the international police organization from March 2016: "More than 10,000 tonnes and one million litres of hazardous fake food and drink have been seized in operations across 57 countries in an INTERPOL-Europol coordinated initiative to protect public health and safety."

And, what did they find in this massive swoop?

• Fertilizer in sugar in Sudan;
• Olives coated in copper sulphate to enhance the colour in Italy;
• Illicit and fake alcohol in Greece, the United Kingdom, Burundi, and elsewhere;
• Monkey meat in Belgium;
• Adulterated honey in Australia; and
• Chicken guts preserved in formalin in Indonesia.

The Institute for Global Food Security says the Italian Mafia is raking in profits from the olive and high-end cheese trade. The Central America drug cartels are buying low-grade food and, through the miracle of relabelling, turning it into high-grade, high-priced products on supermarket shelves.

The Danger of Adulterated Food

INTERPOL has found peanuts mislabeled as pine nuts. Most of us know that the consequence for some people with severe allergic reactions to peanuts can be sudden death.

The conservation group Oceana has been looking into fish labeling in New York City. They’ve found mislabelling in 39 percent of samples. And, it’s not just someone trying to pass off inexpensive tilapia as more costly red snapper. The U.S. Pharmacopeial Convention has found a fish called escolar mislabelled as white tuna. Escolar is banned in Japan and Italy because it can cause food poisoning. And, reports The Globe and Mail, "In the United States, people have been hospitalized after eating what they thought was monkfish, but turned out to be the toxic pufferfish."

Herbs and spices are also being tampered with. Brent Bambury of the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation writes that "Criminals will add industrial dyes to brighten the colours, which makes them appear more attractive. But the dyes are often poisonous." So, tonight’s dinner? I think maybe a glass of water and a lightly poached caraway seed.

Is that red snapper above or below? Which one is tilapia? Once fileted it is hard to tell one fish from another. Answer below.

Tilapia is the top image and red snapper the bottom one.

Bonus Factoids

• In 2008, Chinese milk powder producers were discovered to have been adding melamine to their product to boost its protein content in tests. As a result, 300,000 babies became ill, 54,000 were hospitalized, and 11 died. Two people at the centre of the scandal, Zhang Yujun and Geng Jinping, were executed in November 2009.
• Chris Elliott is the founder of the Institute for Global Food Security at Queen’s University in Belfast. He estimates the world grocery business is worth nearly $12 trillion a year.
• According to the Food Fraud Database the ten most likely foods to be tampered with in some way are, in order: orange juice, honey, truffle oil, blueberries, milk, fish, saffron, olive oil, pomegranate juice, and coffee.

Sources

• “Consumer Product Fraud: Deterrence and Detection.” Grocery Manufacturers Association, 2010.
• “The Big Cash in Counterfeit Food: Why You Might Not Be Eating What You Think You’re Eating.” Brent Bambury, Day 6, Canadian Broadcasting Corporation, April 1, 2016.
• “11 Most Fraudulent Foods.” Mandy Oaklander, Prevention, January 25, 2013.
• “Largest-Ever Seizures of Fake Food and Drink in INTERPOL-Europol Operation.” INTERPOL News Release, March 30, 2016.
• Food Fraud Database.
• “Food Fraud: 10 Counterfeit Products We Commonly Consume.” Melissa Breyer, Mother Nature Network, April 4, 2013.
• “Food Fraud: How Do We Fight a Problem We Don’t Yet Understand?” Ann Hui, Globe and Mail, July 26, 2016.

© 2016 Rupert Taylor

I've spent half a century (yikes) writing for radio and print—mostly print. I hope to be still tapping the keys as I take my last breath.

1. Surströmming

The recipe alone tells you most of what you need to know. Young, newly caught Baltic Sea herring are soaked in brine in a barrel. After a couple of days, the heads and innards of the fish are removed and the rest is returned to the briny solution. Then they are left to “cook” in the summer sun for two to three months.

While this process is taking place, Ben Schott says it’s important to stay upwind of the barrels: “During this time, the fish decompose, producing a tremendous quantity of vile, pungent gas. The resulting ‘delicacy’ smells very, very bad indeed.” The smell has been described as like “eggs rotting in open sewage drains.” It’s a pong that could fell a team of Clydesdales miles downwind, yet, for many Swedes, it’s a culinary delight.

But they haven’t rotted enough yet for the cognoscenti, so they are transferred to sealed tins to continue decaying. The lids start to bulge with the build up of gasses—a sign that it’s time for lunch, although in most countries, public health officials would say it’s time to bin the wretched thing.

Traditionally, it is eaten outdoors so the cloying stench doesn’t hang around the house for days. Beer, vodka, and aquavit are recommended accompanying tipples.

Even Sweden’s official tourist information website is a bit ambivalent: “Never has rotten fish smelled so bad but tasted so good.” If it’s all the same to the good Swedish people, most of the rest of us will take a pass.

2. Doenjang (Soybean Paste)

Koreans like to make a stew using doenjang, which is fermented soybeans. For those who like the acrid scent of ammonia (and who doesn’t?), this is a must main course. The doenjang is mixed with a simmering pot of mushrooms, potatoes, radish, squash and perhaps some seafood. (Adding surströmming to the stew is not advised; the likely resulting explosion could cause serious damage to property and people).

3. Petai Beans

A good side for doenjang stew might be petai beans. They give off a perfume that has been likened to methane gas. And, it doesn’t end there. Petai beans are the food that keeps on giving. It creates breath that even a skunk might find offensive; other body waste products are similarly affected, although, in the usual course of things, it’s only the eater that benefits from this.

4. Stinking Bishop Cheese

There’s a bit of a battle going on in the murky underworld of cheese-making to decide who produces the most malodorous variety. France is, of course, a perennial contender, but a challenger emerged in May 2009. That’s when Stinking Bishop Cheese was voted Britain’s Smelliest Cheese by judges at The Royal Bath and West Show.

This noisome product gets its zesty aroma from being washed in fermented pear juice. It’s said to be delicious but with a reek that resembles a rugby club change room. Raymond Hook of The Daily Meal was much kinder when it came to flavour: “It has strong flavours of moist hay and wilting flowers.”

British jingoism aside, this beast seems unlikely to knock French cheeses off their perch.

5. Vieux Boulogne

Vieux Boulogne won (if that’s the right word) a competition in 2004 as the cheese with the biggest whiff. Scientists at Cranfield University, England, used 19 human testers and one “electronic nose” to determine who got the gold medal.

Vieux Boulogne is a cow’s milk product that gets its pungency from being washed in beer as it matures. How bad is its bouquet? The BBC has an answer: “It even beat Epoisses de Bourgogne, a cheese so smelly it is banned from being taken on public transport in its native France.”

6. Casu Marzu

Casu Marzu cheese from Sardinia ranks high on the stench meter doubtless due to its stomach-churning production method. Casu Marzu means rotten cheese, and it comes by its name honestly. It’s made from sheep’s milk that is then exposed to cheese flies that obligingly lay their eggs in it. The eggs hatch into maggots that feed on the cheese and get our old friend fermentation worked up.

Now it’s ready for eating, as long as the maggots are still moving. If they’re dead, it’s a sign the cheese has gone off. In this condition, it’s said to create a burn in the mouth rather than a flavour.

The European Union has banned the sale of Casu Marzu. Now, why would the bureaucrats cheat cheese lovers out of such a delectable treat?

Apparently, those little grub critters might survive the attack of stomach acid and settle down to a new home in the intestines to raise families. They can burrow through intestinal walls, and that leads to vomiting, bloody diarrhea, and stomach pain.

Absolute nonsense, say the Sardinians. Just the same, pass the Cheddar, please.

7. Stinking Toe Fruit

Had enough yet? Surely, there’s room for some dessert.

Might we suggest stinking toe fruit, which masquerades under the entirely misleading name of locust when not growing in Jamaica. It looks like a large brown toe and its name is descriptive of its scent. Some extravagant claims are made about this sweet fruit’s medicinal powers.

8. Durian Fruit

Durian fruit is a bit niffy; okay, it’s a lot niffy. It’s a spiky fruit that grows in Southeast Asia, and one of its fans, Lionel Bauer, writes that, “Those who like durian typically regard it as the king of fruit.”

However, Bauer does rather gloss over the fruit’s major drawback by observing that “durians have a strong smell and a unique taste.” Strong smell Mr. Bauer? It’s described by those not so enamoured as similar to rotting flesh or putrid garbage.

9. Baby Mice Wine

Of course, if you can get past the stink of the durian, you’ll want something to help swill it down. A good pairing might be baby mice wine. It’s known as a health tonic in Korea and China, although the mice have a different point of view.

Tiny little rodents, no more than three days old, are drowned in bottles of rice wine. They are left to ferment for a year and then the cork is pulled. Cheers.

Bonus Factoids

• Two billion people consume insects regularly; few of them live in the West. The Cantonese have a saying: “Any animal whose back faces the Sun can be eaten.” By that definition, grubs and bugs are included in the diet.
• In the Philippines, balut has a high yuck factor for those not accustomed to it. Take a fertilized duck egg and incubate it for 18 days. By then, the embryo is nearly fully developed. Boil the egg containing the briefly alive duckling and you’ve got a nice, crunchy, little bit feathery snack.

Sources

“Sweden’s Stinky Tradition.” Lola Akinmade Akerstrom, Lonely Planet, June 2012.

“Smelly Korean Food - Soybean Paste Stew.”

“The Stink Bean – A Little Smelly, A Lot of Flavour.” Mark Wiens, Migrationology, September 4th, 2012.

“The 6 Smelliest Cheeses in the World.” Raymond Hook, The Daily Meal, August 22, 2014.

“World’s Smelliest Cheese Named.” BBC News, November 26, 2004.

“Casu Marzu: World’s Most Dangerous Cheese?” Diane Bobis, I Love Cheese, November 23, 2013.

“Stinking Toe Juice.” Xavier Murphy, Jamaicans.com, 2012.

“Penang, Malaysia, and Other Places Where to Eat the Best Durians.”Lionel Bauer, Durian.net, 2013.

“Schott’s Food and Drink Miscellany.” Ben Schott, Bloomsbury, 2003.

© 2016 Rupert Taylor

Comments

Cecil Kenmill from Osaka, Japan on February 09, 2019:

I'm surprised natto isn't on your list. It's a Japanese dish. Basically, it's fermented soy beans. Some people love it but some run away screaming. I'm not sure it's as strong as the Baltic fish but it took me a while to get used to. Anyway, great article!

Rupert Taylor (author) from Waterloo, Ontario, Canada on December 15, 2017:

Thank you Britt. Blush, blush, blush. I like the word "chortle," you don't see it much these days.

Britt Bogan on December 14, 2017:

Rupert, no one's articles make me chortle quite as frequently as yours do. I love your sense of humor.

I've spent half a century (yikes) writing for radio and print—mostly print. I hope to be still tapping the keys as I take my last breath.

Absinthe is usually green and highly potent at 60 to 80 percent alcohol. This gives rise to a lot of aliases for the drink: bottled madness, the green curse, the queen of poisons, or, less ominously, the green fairy.

To mitigate the “madness,” “curse,” or “poison,” seasoned drinkers cushion the blow by diluting it with water and adding a little sugar.

History of Absinthe

Let’s drop in on Dr. Pierre Ordinaire. Well, we can’t anymore, for the man who was anything but “ordinaire” died in 1821. But, before he went to the open bar in heaven he invented absinthe.

Fed up with the French Revolution and all its mayhem, the good doctor retreated to the Swiss Alps. There he busied himself creating a drinkable potion of local herbs, in particular—Latin alert—Artemisia absinthium, better known as wormwood.

The claim was that this elixir cured everything in its path from flatulence (see Bonus Factoid below) to malaria.

The traditional recipe is described by the German spirits maker Markus Lion: “The holy trinity is wormwood, anise, and fennel; if one is missing, it’s not absinthe.” Others ignore Herr Lion’s rule and add such ingredients as mint, hyssop, and coriander. And some, just like Colonel Sanders, claim to put in secret herbs and spices.

The story goes that, as Dr. Ordinaire’s life expired, he passed on his recipe to Henri-Louis Pernod who seems to have been hovering at his bedside. But, inconveniently for the yarn to stand up to rigorous scrutiny, Dr. Ordinaire died after Pernod opened his first absinthe distillery in Switzerland, followed by another one in France.

The green, licorice-flavoured liquor soon became the favourite pick-me-up among poets, artists, writers, and other similar riff-raff. People such as Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec, Vincent van Gogh, and Lord Byron relieved the stresses of the day with a glass or two of M. Pernod’s liquor.

It’s like bottled Alpine springtime.

— Master absinthe distiller and American chemist T.A. Breaux

Even when made less offensive by a trickle of sugar, absinthe still reeks of copper, leaving on the palate a taste like a metal button slowly sucked.

— Novelist Joris-Karl Huysmans

The Seeing of Visions

Of course, many a lush has seen stuff that isn’t there, but absinthe has a poor, or good reputation, depending on your stance on hallucinations, in this regard.

Oscar Wilde recalled that “Three nights I sat up all night drinking absinthe, and thinking that I was singularly clear-headed and sane. The waiter came in and began watering the sawdust. The most wonderful flowers, tulips, lilies, and roses, sprang up, and made a garden in the café.” It’s from quotes such as this that absinthe gets an unfairly bad rap. Oscar might well have had the same herbaceous border experience if he’d been sloshing back single malt whisky for three nights.

There . . . you have the most marvelous cordial in all the world—drink and you will find your sorrows transmuted—yourself transformed.

— Novelist Marie Corelli

Absinthe Banned

There is a psychoactive ingredient in absinthe called thujone that comes from one of its ingredients―wormwood. But, there’s so little of it in the green curse, that the enthusiastic boozer would die of alcohol poisoning before visions of elephants paddling canoes and singing cabbages entered his head.

No matter, it was popularly believed that the green fairy was responsible for phantasms re-arranging the brain cells of drinkers. Worse, it was blamed for causing madness, idleness, and even murder. The French psychiatrist Dr. Valentin Magnan kicked it up several notches by declaring absinthe guilty of wrecking his nation’s culture.

Then, on the afternoon of August 28, 1905, Swiss labourer Jean Lanfray went on a rampage, shooting and killing his wife and two daughters. The Absinthe Buyers Guide notes that during that fateful day Lanfray had “consumed seven glasses of wine, six glasses of cognac, one coffee laced with brandy, two crème de menthes, and two glasses of absinthe after eating a sandwich.”

At trial, Lanfray’s lawyer argued that the absinthe was solely to blame for pushing his client over the edge. He called a psychologist who backed up the claim by testifying that the accused man suffered from “a classic case of absinthe madness.” The prosecution said more likely Lanfray’s actions were triggered by the stupefying amount of hooch he’d chugged. Guilty as charged, Lanfray hanged himself in prison three days later.

A petition against the demon brew in France stated that “Absinthe makes you crazy and criminal, provokes epilepsy and tuberculosis, and has killed thousands of French people. It makes a ferocious beast of man, a martyr of woman, and a degenerate of the infant, it disorganizes and ruins the family and menaces the future of the country.” The petition drew 400,000 signatures.

It seems the wine industry was behind the whole smear campaign because the popularity of absinthe was cutting into its sales and profits. This, at a time when the French wineries were devastated by an insect infestation.

The hysteria created by the Swiss trial and rumours about the evils of absinthe prompted the grand Pooh-Bahs to act. The bottled madness was quickly banned in Switzerland and soon thereafter in North America and most of the rest of Europe.

It is upon absinthe that I threw myself, absinthe day and night.

— Poet Paul Verlaine

The Resurrection of Absinthe

Almost a century passed before science asserted itself and informed the public that the psychoactive ingredient in absinthe is present in such trace amounts that the drinker is just as likely to see houses made out of rice pudding if quaffing Chardonnay.

Most countries have lifted their bans. By the 1990s, absinthe returned to barroom shelves and by early in the 21st century almost 200 brands of the green fairy were being produced to satisfy the demand.

That opaque, bitter, tongue-numbing, brain-warming, stomach-warming, idea-changing, liquid alchemy.

— Ernest Hemingway

Bonus Factoids

Patient: When I break wind the noise sounds like “Honda.”

Doctor: What’s your favourite drink?

Patient: Absinthe.

Doctor: Well, there’s your answer. Absinthe makes the fart go Honda.

In some Slavic languages the word “wormwood” translates rather darkly as “chernobyl.”

Ernest Hemingway created an absinthe cocktail he called “Death in the Afternoon.”

• 1 1/2 ounces absinthe
• 4 ounces chilled Brut champagne
• champagne flute

Hemingway advised drinking “three to five of these slowly.” If you go for the full five it’s probably a good idea to have a couple of paramedics standing by.

There . . you have the most marvelous cordial in all the world―drink and you will find your sorrows transmuted―yourself transformed.

— Novelist Marie Corelli

Sources

• “Jean Lanfray (The Absinthe Murders).” The Absinthe Buyers Guide, undated.
• “Crazy for Absinthe.” Louisa Chu, Chicago Tribune, March 12, 2008.
• “Why Was Absinthe Banned for 100 Years? A Mystery as Murky as the Liquor Itself.” Frank Swigonski, mic.com, June 22, 2013.
• “Hideous Absinthe: A History of the Devil in a Bottle.” Jad Adams, University of Wisconsin Press, February 2004.
• “Top 5 Absinthe Cocktails.” Camper English, Epicurious, undated.
• “Schott’s Food & Drink Miscellany.” Ben Schott, Bloomsbury, 2003.

© 2016 Rupert Taylor

I've spent half a century (yikes) writing for radio and print—mostly print. I hope to be still tapping the keys as I take my last breath.

Martinis have been comforting the stressed since Martini di Arma di Taggia slid one across the bar top to a customer in New York in 1911.

That’s one story of the provenance of the sustaining beverage that H.L. Menken called “the only American invention as perfect as the sonnet.” Another is that it’s not American at all. In 1863, a vermouth maker in Italy began selling its product under the trade name Martini. That company was, of course, Martini and Rossi.

One Martini is all right. Two are too many, and three are not enough.

— James Thurber

A third yarn takes us back even further, to the California gold rush of 1848 to 1855.

A miner, having struck it rich, walked into a bar and asked for Champagne to celebrate. The bartender told the miner there was no bubbly but he would fix him something special. Here’s the recipe . . .

Dry Martini Recipe

• Dash of bitters
• 2 dashes maraschino liqueur
• 1 pony Old Tom gin
• 1 wine glass vermouth
• 1/4 slice lemon

The miner liked the tipple so much he ordered it for everyone in the bar. This is all supposed to have happened in the city of Martinez in the San Francisco Bay area.

But, the gloriously named Barnaby Conrad III, author of The Martini: An Illustrated History of an American Classic, begs to differ. The Martini, he asserts in his 1995 book, was invented in San Francisco.

An anonymous miner (perhaps, the same anonymous one mentioned above) entered a bar in the Golden City and asked for a pick-me-up before he caught the ferry across the bay to Martinez. The bartender obligingly whisked up a cocktail he called a Martinez.

The city of Martinez makes the most of its claim by holding a Martini Festival in September that, for those with the stamina for such events, lasts for a month. Even Pensacola and Tampa try to elbow their way into the Martini festival racket without having any historical connection to the beverage. Cheeky.

I never go jogging, it makes me spill my Martini.

— George Burns

The Perfect Martini

There are probably as many Martini recipes as there are Martini drinkers. Shaken or stirred? Gin or vodka? Sweet or dry vermouth? Olive or twist?

• There are those who like their Martinis dry―very dry. There is a concoction that involves putting a bottle of gin and a bottle of dry vermouth into a cupboard for a month. Then, the gin is taken out poured over ice and drunk.
• Noël Coward had a similar approach: “A perfect Martini should be made by filling a glass with gin, then waving it in the general direction of Italy.”
• Luis Buñuel, the Spanish-Mexican filmmaker, thought it was sufficient to hold up a glass of gin next to a bottle of vermouth and let a beam of sunlight pass through.
• Some like to pour gin over ice then dip their finger in dry vermouth and run it around the rim of the glass.
• Winston Churchill another gold-plated member of the Martini cognoscenti opined that “I would like to observe the vermouth from across the room while I drink my Martini.”

• Ernest Hemingway, who knew a few things about alcohol, liked what is known as the “Monty”―15 parts gin to one part dry vermouth. He wrote in A Farewell to Arms “I’ve never tasted anything so cool and clean . . . They make me feel civilized.” He also wrote “I drink to make other people more interesting.” But, that’s another story.
• Richard Nixon liked a seven-to-one ratio; liked it a little too much so it’s said.

I like to have a Martini, two at the very most.

After three I’m under the table,

after four I’m under my host.

— Dorothy Parker

Martini Abominations

Aficionados shudder at some of the tinkering with the hallowed Martini. Ian Fleming takes the blame for an egregious assault on what E.B. White called “the elixir of quietude.” His James Bond character famously enjoyed a vodka Martini “shaken not stirred.” But, he didn’t limit himself to one.

Here’s Leah Hyslop in The Telegraph, “Researchers worked out that across the James Bond books, the spy downs 1,150 units of alcohol in 88 days: around 92 units a week, or four times the recommended maximum intake for men in the U.K.”

That’s the level of boozing that can, in lesser men, cause liver damage and impotence. The latter ailment does not seem to have afflicted 007.

In Casino Royale he gives instructions for a Martini called the Vesper: “A dry Martini. One. In a deep champagne goblet. Three measures of Gordon’s, one of vodka, half a measure of Kina Lillet (a French vermouth that is no longer available). Shake it very well until it’s ice-cold, then add a large thin slice of lemon peel.”

This is probably not the sort of thing to chug prior to a shootout with some of Ernst Stavro Blofeld’s thugs.

I drink too much. The last time I gave a urine sample it had an olive in it.

— Rodney Dangerfield

The Bond shaking instruction is in direct contravention of the rule laid down by Somerset Maugham: “A Martini should be stirred, not shaken, so that the molecules lie sensuously on top of one another.”

Coffee Martinis and Boston cream pie Martinis are bad enough but there is absolutely no excuse for the grilled cheese Martini, while the notion of a candied bacon Martini leaves one reaching for a highball glass to steady the nerves. If you must know―Amaretto, vodka, and Applejack are swilled onto sweet smoked pork. Arrgghh.

Cicero the Bartender: “What’re you drinking?”

Flavius: “Gimme a martinus.”

Cicero: “You mean a Martini.”

Flavius: “If I wanted two I’d ask for them.”

Wayne and Shuster, Rinse the Blood off my Toga

Bonus Factoids

• In 1935, H.L. Mencken wrote an essay called How to Drink Like a Gentleman: The Things to Do and the Things Not To, as Learned in 30 Years’ Extensive Research. It has been republished by Gawker.
• The V2 rockets launched against Allied targets by Nazi Germany during World War II contained enough alcohol as fuel to make 66,130 dry Martinis.
• In June 2015, Texas real estate millionaire Garth Herro took his girlfriend, Karen Smith Dominguez, for a drink at the Algonquin Hotel in New York. He paid $12,000 for a Martini that contained a diamond engagement ring. Karen said yes.

Sources

“The Martini Story.” City of Martinez, undated.

“The Martini: This American Cocktail May Have An International Twist.” April Fulton, National Public Radio, June 20, 2013.

“How to Make a James Bond Martini (but Limit Yourself to one).” Leah Hyslop, The Telegraph, June 19, 2015.

“What Does a Grilled Cheese Martini Taste Like?” Lauren Shockey, The Village Voice, October 19, 2011.

“House Martinis.” One Ten Lounge, Poulsbo, Washington, undated.

“Schott’s Food & Drink Miscellany.” Ben Schott, Von Holtzbrinck Publishing Services, 2003.

© 2016 Rupert Taylor

Comments

Lena Durante from San Francisco Bay Area on May 23, 2017:

No, I'm not a fan of chocolate beer either. If I want a soda pop or a milkshake, I can have one. If I'm drinking beer, I want a real beer, not a dessert. I drink carajillo for that. ;)

Suzie from Carson City on May 19, 2017:

Rupert.....This is delightful!! I love it and thank you for the chuckles. We could use several ounces of that around here for certain! (The chuckles, not the martinis!)

I enjoy your sense of humor & peppered with some interesting information, this is a very entertaining read!........Paula

Rupert Taylor (author) from Waterloo, Ontario, Canada on May 19, 2017:

Hi Lena

I'm a beer drinker and I have the svelte figure of one to prove it. I agree with you on the messing about with classics. Chocolate-flavoured beer? Come on.

Lena Durante from San Francisco Bay Area on May 19, 2017:

There seems to be a trend at some bars and restaurants to basically put an entire salad on top of a cocktail. I prefer something simpler, especially when it comes to the classics, like a martini.

peachy from Home Sweet Home on March 03, 2016:

i didn't know there are so many types of martinis

I've spent half a century (yikes) writing for radio and print—mostly print. I hope to be still tapping the keys as I take my last breath.

Hi Oh Silver served with mashed potatoes and braised carrots.

Horse flesh is popular in India, Belgium, China, Russia, Japan, Sweden, South America, France, and many other places. But, in the English-speaking world, the idea of turning Lightning into bronco burgers is abhorrent.

When Philadelphia chef Peter McAndrews announced he was going to serve horsemeat in his upscale restaurant he got bomb threats. And, since 1998, California has banned the sale of horsemeat for human consumption.

Aversion to Horsemeat

We eat deer, elk, and bison, some of it farmed, some of it wild, so why not horses?

Ben Schott (Schott’s Food and Drink Miscellany) suggests our squeamishness about hippophagy (eating horsemeat) may be “because of an inherited Roman distaste for the meat.”

That theory goes out the window because the most direct descendants of Romans ―Italians―are happy to marry pasta and pony. Italy Magazine notes that there are more than 400 equine butchers in the country “each serving up cuts from horse to donkey meats; some going as far as creating salami and prosciutto style charcuterie.”

Others suggest that because horses became “companion” animals to humans we are reluctant to put them in the stew pot. But, that doesn’t explain why the Dutch are happy to chow down on a fillet of filly.

Perhaps, it’s because of Pope Gregory III. In 732, he wrote to his missionary in Germany, Saint Boniface, to forbid the eating of horsemeat among those he converted to Catholicism. The pope labelled it a “filthy and abominable custom” probably because it was associated with paganism.

It may come down to simple economics. A 2002 study “found that horses eat 63 percent more than cattle. This isn’t just a matter of bulk. Horses also eat more ‘digestible material’ with actual nutritional content than cows, according to the study.”

As with all these explanations they apply equally to cultures that eat horses and those that don’t.

Although Eugene Volokh probably nails it in a Washington Post article. He wrote that Americans reject munching on mustangs “because of their gut feeling that eating horse is disgusting or, in the words of one critic of eating horsemeat, ‘morally perverse,’ ‘a perversion of the human-animal bond.’ ” English-speaking people do seem to have more sentimentality about domesticated animals than folks in less protein-rich societies.

The Plusses of Horsemeat

Our Paleolithic ancestors ate horsemeat. Of course, they were wild then and had not been invested with human characteristics such as names, so tucking into an equine flank steak was something of a treat.

More recently, soldiers in the trenches of World War I were sustained by the thousands of horse cadavers that were victims of shelling. And, during the second global conflict, cuts of horse flesh were added to many home menus to eke out the scarce supply of meat.

Katy Enders (The Guardian) says that “horsemeat is healthier than beef: it’s lower in fat, higher in protein, and has a greater proportion of omega-3 fatty acids.” It’s also high in iron and a good source of zinc, selenium, and phosphorus as well as niacin, B6, and B12.

Horsemeat and donkey flesh are staples of the diet in Sardinia. And, National Public Radio notes that “the ratio of centenarian men to women is one to one. That’s quite unusual, because in the rest of the world, it’s five women to every one man who live that long.”

Nagano, Japan is well known as a place where folks consume horsemeat, both cooked and raw. And, guess which city in Japan has the highest life expectancy for males. No prizes for picking Nagano.

Coincidences? I think not.

Horse or Beef?

Where else should one go for adjudication on the merits of horse flesh than the centre of gastronomy―France?

In 1859, Peter Lund Simmonds wrote of an occasion in Paris. A horse with “an incurable paralysis of the hinder quarters” was slaughtered and “… three days afterwards, on the 1st December, 1855, eleven guests were invited―physicians, journalists, veterinary surgeons, and employés of the government. Side by side were dishes prepared by the same cook, in precisely the same manner, and with the same pieces taken respectively from this horse and from an ox of good quality.”

The verdict? The bouillon from the horse was unanimously judged superior as was the roast fillet.

Similar experiments were carried out in several different places and, Mr. Simmonds noted, “… in every case, we are told, the result has been the same.”

Waverley Root was a prominent food writer until his retirement in 1969. He is quoted frequently as describing horsemeat as having a “lingering sweetness, which is not disagreeable but is disconcerting in meat.”

I make no claims for expertise in the field of equine cuisine so given a choice between an also-ran from the Kentucky Derby or a sway-back old nag that’s spent 20 years toiling on an Amish farm I’ll choose the seafood crêpe every time.

To Eat or not to Eat?

Bonus Factoids

• Swedish harness racer Helena Ståhl had to have her severely injured horse put down in December 2015. Her decision to then eat the animal drew a barrage of criticism. But, as she points out, why throw away hundreds of kilos of perfectly good protein so another animal can be slaughtered.
• Horsemeat is British and Canadian usage. Horse meat is American.
• Bernard Miles was an English character actor and creator of a Hertfordshire yokel who offered rural wisdom Over the Gate. In one of his sketches he gave the recipe for Rabbit and ‘ossmeat Pie. “It’s simple. ‘alf and ‘alf. You uses one rabbit and one ‘oss.”

Sources

• “The Changing Tradition of Eating Horse Meat in Italy.” Italy Magazine, March 15, 2013
• “Why you Really Should (but Really Can’t) Eat Horsemeat.” Caty Enders, The Guardian, January 9, 2015.
• “Eating to Break 100: Longevity Diet Tips from the Blue Zones.” Eliza Barclay, National Public Radio, April 15, 2015.
• “Raw Horsemeat the Secret to Nagano’s No. 1 Longevity?” Kuchikomi, Japan Today, March 15, 2013.
• “Indian State Bans Beef; California Banned Horsemeat; What if an American State Banned Pork?” Eugene Volokh, Washington Post, March 6, 2015.
• “The Curiosities of Food: Or Dainties and Delicacies of Different Nations ...” Peter Lund Simmonds, Richard Bentley, 1859.
• “Swedish Racer Defends Eating Own Dead Horse.” The Local, January 5, 2016.
• “Schott’s Food and Drink Miscellany.” Ben Schott, Bloomsbury, 2003.

© 2016 Rupert Taylor

Comments

Char Milbrett from Minnesota on February 28, 2016:

We could vote on it.... all opposed say Neighhhh....

Rupert Taylor (author) from Waterloo, Ontario, Canada on February 28, 2016:

I think most of us have unwittingly eaten horsemeat. Europeans were shocked in 2013 to discover that horsemeat masquerading as beef was in many prepared foods. There's no reason to believe it hasn't found its way into the N. American food chain.

But, I'm more concerned about a 2015 study that found that "of the 345 hot dogs studied, 2 per cent of them had human DNA inside." The Independent.

Anne Crary Jantz from Dearborn Heights, Michigan, U.S.A. on February 28, 2016:

My husband didn't know what he was eating either on the Sabena flight because they announced the menu in French, Cheval in the French manner, and he doesn't speak French. Neither do I, but I did know what that meant, so I can't plead ignorance.

Andrew Spacey from Near Huddersfield, West Yorkshire,UK on February 28, 2016:

We Brits will not eat the horse and consider those who do immoral and in some unfathomable way, neanderthal! Historically we've never eaten ossmeat, much preferring cow, deer, pig, bird - why? Tis a mystery but who would want to eat something that's noble, intuitive and able to pull a carriage at speed? And go galloping across a battlefield?

Having said all that I did inadvertently eat donkey meat in Spain one time. It was dressed up as salami and offered to me by an old fella harvesting almonds in the Alpujarras.

After a bite and swallow I asked' 'Ques es esto senor?' 'Carne de burro.'

Anne Crary Jantz from Dearborn Heights, Michigan, U.S.A. on February 28, 2016:

Very comprehensive article, Rupert. Well done. We lived in Belgium for several months, and our corner butcher had horse right in the case alongside other more traditional meats. I never took the leap, but once when we were flying Sabena Airlines, the Belgian Airlines, they served horse in red wine for dinner on the flight. We had no choice except not to eat, so we ate it. It wasn't bad at all, hard to distinguish from beef. My Dad was stationed out in the South Pacific during WWII and he tried dog. The local native people ate dog all the time. He said it tasted like pork. I doubt I could knowingly try it.

Chris Mills from Traverse City, MI on February 27, 2016:

I suppose the issue is the same as it would be for eating dog or cat meat. Eating pets isn't all that appetizing. I would try it if I had the opportunity. Then I'd ride off into the sunset on my holstein. :)

Good hub.

Wesman Todd Shaw from Kaufman, Texas on February 26, 2016:

I admit that I'm both not pleased by the idea (due to the reasons you already acknowledge) - and yet as a mostly carnivorous fella, attracted to the idea, and curious about the taste.