One of the new trends for those trendy folks out in Minneapolis, Minn., is a meatless butcher shop. Yes, that’s right; a meatless butcher shop. It also has cheese-less cheese.
The Herbivorous Butcher, the first meatless butcher shop in the United States, opened its doors about a year ago, and has been selling meatless bologna, barbecued ribs (doesn’t distinguish if they are beef or pork flavored), ham, bacon, filet mignon, chicken, pepperoni and other fabricated treats to a multitude of customers.
The meat-free meats, according to the store’s website, are handmade in small batches and contain protein-rich ingredients like wheat gluten, yeast, soy, miso (which is made from fermented soybeans) and spices. No real word on what the cheese-free cheese is made of.
The Daily Meal website said the owners “combined their vegetable-loving lifestyles with their Guamanian roots as well as other culinary cultures around the world to create meats that (supposedly) have the texture, taste and overall feel of real meat.”
I congratulate the brother-sister duo who started the shop for their entrepreneurial spirit, but I don’t think I will be making a trip to see what is on the menu.
While many people opt for a vegan lifestyle because they disagree with animal agriculture – be it meat or dairy production – in my humble, and somewhat bias opinion, others who are going to the store, as well as other retail outlets across the nation that offer similar products, are standing in line for the exact thing they have been complaining about – “manufactured food products.” The products are just dressed up as something other than what they really are, so I guess it’s the vegan equivalent of mystery meat.
When you boil it all down, just about everything we consume has been “manufactured.”
I remember manufacturing lots of food when I was a kid. We manufactured butter just about every Saturday in old mayonnaise jars. We’d shake and roll the jars filled with fresh cream, skimmed from the raw milk that either an old Jersey or Guernsey cow manufactured, with a pinch of salt. One summer I remember manufacturing everything possible, even brownies, out of zucchini because of a bumper crop.
Mom and her old pressure cooker worked like a well-oiled machine for many years as she manufactured countless pints and quarts of green beans, bread and butter pickles, tomato juice and sauce, beats and whatever else grew in our garden. Our cattle and hogs manufactured our meat.
At the Crawford Ranch, I’m in no way like my mom, but we like manufactured food. One of our favorite meals is a very tasty, lightly blackened beef and pork combination, taken straight off the grill and placed in a hearty, yet light, eatable basket made from ground cereal grains that have been kneaded and baked to perfection. Of course no main course would not be complete without proper garnishment with a little sweet, yet tangy, tomato-based sauce, or a dash of Sinapis alba that is lightly seasoned with a hint of lemon juice. I typically serve a dish that primarily contains the fruits of a tuberous crop that originated in the Andes, accented by a dab of Cucumis sativus, garlic and dill, natural salt and oils that are whipped with albumen and vitellus with this grilled treat.
Doesn’t it sound fancy? Some also like to add a bit of the of Cucumis sativus, garlic and dill combination to the main entrée for added flavor, but that is a little overbearing for my taste.
Of course, my mother’s recipe was better than mine, as Mom’s recipes usually are, but we regularly enjoy the meal at least once a week in the spring and summer months. Leftovers also keep nicely and can be enjoyed for a day or two.
It’s just hard to beat grilled hot dogs, complete with mustard, ketchup and relish, served with a big ol’ helping of potato salad, isn’t it? And no matter how you dress it up or word it, it’s still grilled hot dogs and potato salad.
While a hot dog might not sound too appetizing to those standing in line at the fancy fake meat butcher shops, I’m sure the mystery meat in the hot dogs I grill out is a whole lot better than what they will find behind the counter.
Julie
