With a Horn and a Gun

Thought for the day:  Jokes about German sausage are the absolute wurst.

Okay, so this post isn't about German sausage, but it IS about kielbasa... Polish sausage. How'd ya like to learn how to make it?

And as a bonus, you can also see how my old-fashioned vs. new-fangled competition went.

 That chunk of cow horn is what I've used to stuff sausage casings for more than forty years. We'll call it Davey, okay? And the modern sausage-making tool, a nifty gift from my brother, is our Goliath. This was my first time using it.

Just for kicks, I decided to use Davey to make the first ring of sausage, and Goliath for the other, and compare the times. Yeah, I know. Kinda like comparing a modern text messenger with an old guy sending Morse code, right?

Still, let's see how it went, shall we?

First, to make any sausage, you need ground meat. For kielbasa, I use pork butt, and have the butcher grind it for me, including all its fat. To make good juicy sausage, you MUST have some fat. Pork is so much leaner than it used to be, some people add additional ground fat to their sausage. Not my choice to do that, though. Just try to find meats with some marbling and fat around the edges, and you'll be fine, as long as you don't overcook it.

These are the four simple ingredients I use. Of the four, I consider marjoram to be the most important. If you make kielbasa, don't use a dusty ol' bottle of marjoram that's been sitting on your pantry shelf for God only knows how long, okay? Spring for a fresh bottle. You'll notice the salt, pepper and garlic are all coarse ground.

You need to add enough spices to your sausage to be able to see them. I don't follow a recipe, and judge when it's just right by the smell and look of the meat. The latest batch I made was about three and a half pounds of meat, and I used about half a bottle of marjoram, maybe a tablespoon or so of garlic powder and pepper, and about a teaspoon of salt. (Sorry I can't be more specific. I don't measure.) When the mixture looks and smells good, you can pinch off a small patty's worth and fry it for a quick taste test.

A squirt of Pam makes it easier to slip the casing onto the horn. Tie a knot in the end, and start pushing the meat through the horn with your fingers and into the casing. Keep a straight pin handy so you can prick the casing if an air pocket develops. As for the casing, it's fairly easy to find in some parts of the country, but not so much in others. Here, I can get it fresh at Whole Foods. You may even be able to order it online.

The first ring, made with Davey, is almost finished here. Total time from first bit of meat shoved through the horn to the second end tie-off? Fifteen minutes. Not too shabby, huh?

Time to try the big gun. It comes with several different sizes of tubes, but this one looked about right, so I gave it a shot of Pam and pushed the casing on, easy-peasy, slick as all get-out. Time to check the clock...

Here's the gun, fully loaded with meat and ready to shoot. Doesn't it look cool?

Unfortunately, I encountered a few (ahem) ESO (Equipment Superior to Operator) problems. Those black screw-on caps at either end of the tube LOOK the same, don't they? I thought so, too. But the threading isn't the same. After I loaded the tube with meat the first time, I couldn't screw the darned thing onto the gun. Once it was switched, reloaded, casing reattached, and then hooked up correctly, squeezing the trigger emptied the tube and shot the meat into the casing lightning fast. Too fast. (Okay, so maybe I was blasting it like Al Capone with a tommy gun...) The Pam I'd stupidly put on the nozzle didn't help, either. The casing flew off the nozzle so fast, the meat packed way too loosely amid a ton of monster air pockets. So, after I used a wooden spoon handle to push the last bits of meat out of the nozzle, I had to manually squeeze the meat through the casing and eliminate all the air pockets. Bottom line: with all my screw-ups, it was well over thirty minutes before I tied the final knot in the second ring of sausage.

So, Davey beat Goliath. This time. Kinda. Next time, the gun will definitely blast my handy dandy horn outta the water. If I hadn't been so darned trigger-happy and charmed by the gun's speed this time, I could've ... I should've... been controlling the packing and air pockets as I went along.

Bottom line? It doesn't matter how ya fill the casing. (My mother-in-law had a sausage attachment on her electric mixer.) This stuff is DEE-licious. Simple to prepare, too. Barely cover it with water, bring to a slow boil, and then simmer for fifteen to twenty minutes. Drain most of the water, and add sauerkraut. Cook until heated through. Serve with mashed potatoes. And there ya have it... Polish comfort food at its finest. And if you don't want to stuff your meat into casings at all, you could always make some unique-tasting burgers.

                     I'd show you what it looked like after it was cooked... but we (erp!) ate it.

(Oh yeah, just so ya know, a pair of old-timer Morse code operators DID beat a pair of hot shot text messengers on the Jay Leno show a couple years ago... )

                                      So, what's YOUR favorite comfort food?

My doctor told me to stop having intimate dinners for four unless there are three other people.  [Orson Welles}

My mom made two dishes: Take it or Leave it.  [Stephen Wright]

                          Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

With This Ring

Thought for the day: For two people in a marriage to live together day after day is unquestionably the one miracle the Vatican has overlooked.  [Bill Cosby]

As mentioned in the last post, the main reason we went to Maryland last month was to attend our niece's wedding, a delightful, feel-good event. The bride's 13-year-old daughter was almost as emotional about getting a wonderful new Daddy as our niece was to be marrying him.

One of the centerpieces.

Ever hear of a wedding theme? Well, this wedding had one. Lots of red-white-and-blue in evidence, and guests were asked to wear something patriotic, military, or vintage post-WWII. Cool, huh? A couple beautiful love letters written during WWII were read aloud. From the bride's grandfathers. To her grandmothers. What a neat touch, huh? The grandparents' wedding pictures were also on display.

The wedding and reception were held at the VFW hall, and at left is where the wedding party stood during the exchange of vows.

The first Polish wedding tradition took place following the ceremony ... the serving of wine and salted bread. Served to the newlyweds by their mothers, this tradition represents a wish that the couple never know hunger or thirst, and share a long life spiced with happiness.

The next Polish tradition was the removal of the bridal veil by the bride's godmother. Me. Once the veil is removed, it's replaced by a czypek, (chi-pek) a round lace head covering. I was also supposed to lead everyone in a traditional Polish hymn during this time, which I didn't find out about until the reception. Oops. Since I'm only Polish by osmosis, some of the honest-to-goodness Polish ladies went ahead and sang while I fiddled with bobby pins. The hymn is a supplication to the Virgin Mary to guide the bride in the ways of a loving wife. (Pssst! Check out the victory rolls in my hair! Took a lot of practice in the weeks before the wedding, but it turned out pretty darned good, I think. Especially for someone who's as inept with hair as I am. To complete the post WWII look, I wore red lipstick, seamed stockings, and platform shoes. FUN!)

Next comes the strings of tiny dolls, decorated with blue and pink ribbons, that go around the necks of the bride and groom. Pretty obvious what that signifies, huh? These particular strings were used at the wedding reception of the lady standing beside me... a very dear family friend...  more than 60 years ago. The silly hat on the groom's head represents a wish for happiness and laughter in their marriage. (LOOK! It's already working!)

Happy, happy, happy ever after.

The last Polish tradition celebrated is the small dance, or maly taniec. Also known as the apron dance, because someone holds an apron out and collects money in it. People toss a buck or so into the apron (sometimes, verrrrrry tightly folded) to polka with the bride. The last one to claim a dance is the groom, who throws his whole wallet into the apron, and claims his bride forever, to live happily ever after.

How about this? My hubby and I won a lovely bouquet of flowers for being old farts. Well, to be technical, that's not exactly how they put it. It was actually for being married the longest. Our 43rd anniversary was the day before the wedding.

Oh yeah, and if you can believe it, this really old-looking guy came up to us at the reception and claimed to have gone to school with us. HUH! We didn't argue with the delusional old fogy... just smiled, and were very polite while he babbled on about some of the people who really DID go to school with us. Can you imagine? Claimed he knew ME, too. Even said he saw us at our 30th reunion. Tsk, tsk, tsk. Poor misled guy. Obviously, he has powers, though. By the time we got home to Atlanta, he'd somehow managed to have his name and picture added to our high school yearbook. Even some words addressed to me. I STILL dunno how he did that ...

The secret to a happy marriage: Two times a week, we go to a nice restaurant, have a little beverage, good food and companionship. She goes on Tuesdays, I go on Fridays.  [Red Skelton]

                             Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.