The Ultimate Sausage Bible

Turning sausages: according to the author of the Sausage Bible, a typically male affair. He talks about kitchen princesses with testosterone, football, beer, and the hands-on man is not missing either – and I’m only at the introduction of the book.

Mr. Wateetons, as he calls himself, knows from experience that too much of this sort of thing quickly results in plummeting popularity. He also knows that you can always make amends by letting others share in your sausage. I experience that not a word of this is a lie among a group of anxious men during a sausage workshop led by Mr. himself.

M.E.N.G.K.O.U.D.

The workshop focuses on the basics: fresh sausage. Anyone who can turn a tasty sausage by hand has a glorious future full of salamis, blood sausages and, for enthusiasts, even vegetarian sausages ahead of them. While we put a kilo of pork through the meat grinder, Mr. tells us that in principle there is only one rule of thumb to remember: M.E.N.G.K.O.U.D.

In other words: make sure your sausage meat – at least until it is safely and securely inside the casing – is as cold as possible, and mix the mince as if your life depended on it. Pummel it, toss it around, plunge your fists into it: anything goes to ensure that the proteins in the meat are released, leaving you with a sticky ball of meat. That is essential for a cohesive and juicy sausage.

Interlude

A brief interlude, because that meat grinder is not a fancy appliance at all and simply comes from Marktplaats. You can already get one for fifteen euros. Then, at the local cookware shop, you buy a plastic stuffing horn for around five euros and you are completely ready to make your own sausages.

‘Once thoroughly pounded together, the sausage meat is ready to go through the grinder for the second time’

Nervous laughter

Back to the sausage meat, because once thoroughly pounded together, it is ready to go through the grinder for the second and final time; this time straight into the casing. We fill the horn until it is completely packed with sausage meat. Then, amid the nervous laughter of a bunch of guys, because oh, how funny this is, we roll more than a metre and a half of small intestine around it. Then we arrive at the most enjoyable part of it all: filling! It is best done with two people: one gradually fills the meat grinder with the sausage meat, while the other slowly rolls the casing off the stuffing horn. I have the honour of taking on this task.

The hup-hup-hup-hup-hup method

A few minutes later, somewhat awkwardly – and I’m really used to quite a lot – I am holding a sausage a metre and a half long in my hands. Just tie it according to Mr.’s hup-hup-hup-hup-hup method and then it is official: I have made my own sausage, and it is tastier than all the sausages I have ever had. The beginning of a new era, because with the Sausage Bible on my bookshelf, I will have my hands full for the coming months. From grinding to tying and from drying to smoking; this book contains everything, and I mean absolutely everything, about sausage.

Psychoanalysis of the Woman Turning Sausages

I have one final question for the authors: In the next edition, alongside the psychoanalysis of the man turning sausages, is there also room for a similar discussion of women? Given that at the end of the evening Mr. personally cleared the floor of scraps of meat, that seems only fair to me. Besides, I think that would be truly funny.

Title: Sausage Bible
Author: Meneer Wateetons
Publisher: Carrera Culinair
Price: €29.99