Saturday, June 7, 2014

Sausage Making

My parents make their own sausage, and now that they're retired, it seems like they're always experimenting with new recipes and spice blends and techniques.

I, on the other hand, don't eat sausage. Yes, this is quite counter-cultural, as I'm both German and Polish. But I've never really cared for the texture. I'm not a fan of fennel seed or some of the other spicings. And really, I much prefer food when I can tell what it is.

Sausage making, of course, has a secondary meaning--the behind-the-scenes work of groups to put a deal together, and to make things happen. There's a certain idea that it might be pretty shady work.

I'll admit, that's not the most comfortable place for me either--I tend to be pretty straight-forward and just want it to come together easily. Of course, sometimes life and decision-making are more complicated than that.

So I have tried to find an appreciation for both kinds of sausage making. Recognizing that the work is messy, but valuable. That there is a certain synergy work to put together less-than-beautiful things in an artful balance. And that in the end, careful work can make something that is delicious and greatly appreciated.

I might not roll up my sleeves and volunteer to do the work (or reach for a bratwurst or kielbasa), but I can at least thank the makers for their hard work.

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