July 2007


It's American Month here at Zingerman's Deli
Lithuanian-American Anarchist Emma Goldman supposedly said "If I can't dance I don't want to be part of your revolution." Right now there is a revolution going on. You might not be able to dance to it, but you can certainly taste it — American food production is being overthrown. It's a non-violent revolution, and somewhat slow, as these things are measured. This month, Zingerman's is celebrating that revolution by declaring July, American Food Month.

Twenty-five years ago, nobody even knew what extra virgin olive oil was, let alone demanded it. Now some of the best olive oils in the world are produced in California and follow stricter quality standards than Europe. From 1976 until 1989 the Federal Government banned the import of Prosciutto Di Parma. Now we let it cross our borders even as there are just as delicious cured hams coming out of Iowa. The USDA still doesn't allow anyone to import salamis made in Italy. You could call your senator to complain, but far better would be to try Columbus Salame's Sopressata Abruzzese. It's just as good. Don't look to Holland alone for great gouda. Look to Ohio. Want some Scottish-style smoked salmon? It's best from Maine. Or right here in Ann Arbor.

The United States produces food that is just as good, and often better, than what you can find in Europe. More and more people are demanding it. More and more is being made. Just last month we found a new producer of gouda just a few hours south of us in London, Ohio. The King Family makes this cheese using unpasteurized cow's milk at their Oakvale Creamery. We first tasted this cheese a month ago, and immediately, Carlos, our cheese guy, knew we just had to get some. Things like this are happening more and more — new American foods appear from seemingly nowhere, tasting perfect.

American foods can be divided into two categories. Analogues of European classics and new creations.

Take Sopressata Abruzzese. Columbus Salame company makes this beautiful salami. It is designed to taste like something you'd find in Rome. Can it compete with the Italian standard? You'd better believe it. They've been making this stuff for 70 years. It's got as much tradition as you need. It's a traditional Italian recipe ground coarsely and aged to perfection — not too hard or dry. It is nicely spiced with a little red pepper and a little more fennel. In the last three weeks I've sold three full salamis to people looking to host big parties. At seven pounds each, that's a lot of pork.

Last week, I hosted a prosciutto tasting at the deli. We tasted Prosciutto di Parma, Jamon Serrano, German Black Forest Ham and a bunch of other classic cured hams. With this high competition, the hands down favorite was a little ham from Herb Eckhouse in Iowa. His Culaccia is also known as "heart of prosciutto." It's a beautifully trimmed ham that comes from a old-fashioned breed of pig called Berkshire. This pig can trace its lineage back to a boar owned by Queen Victoria named "Ace of Spades." I suppose we can be grateful to Britain for a few things this Independence Day.

Another reason to thank Britain (or at least the Shetland Islands) is for teaching Richard Penfold how to smoke salmon. He brought his knowledge back to Maine and set up Stonington Sea Products. His slow, cold-smoking process over a traditional Scottish kiln creates the perfect salmon for all of our bagels. Not content to just do it like the Scots, Richard worked with us to develop his very own cure using demerara sugar. He now makes it exclusively for us. His smoked salmons are a delight to slice thinly to order and every time we order more I remember that Richard's small company is now the largest employer in his tiny fishing village in Penobscot Bay, Maine.

Remember when Europe and America worked together? That tradition of cross-Atlantic friendship is strong in the food world. Tom Vella was a perfect example of American Hybridization. He started out making Dry Jack, a California original. It's sort of a parmigiano substitute, first developed to sell to San Fransciso's Italian community. It's only a few pounds in size and is coated with cocoa to give it a purple rind. Not satisfied with creating his own version of the Italian king of the cheese world, Vella went to France in the 1950s to learn the ways of France's cheese king: Roquefort. He must have made quite an impression, because he left France with a new recipe, and some of their precious Roquefort mold. With creameries in both California and Oregon, Tom started making a cow's milk blue cheese using the Roquefort mold in his creamery at Oregon. The creameries then passed on to Tom's son Ig who continues to make great Dry Jack in California — we feature it on our counter year round. The luscious cow's milk blue cheese that came from Tom's foray into France is now made by David Gremmels and Cary Bryant in Oregon. They have since taken to wrapping the cheese in pear brandy-soaked grape leaves, both from a nearby Oregon winery. Called Rogue River Blue and aged for almost a year, it has proceeded to win pretty much every cheese award in the county. It's sweet and rich, creamy and blue. It's nothing like Roquefort, or anything, really. It's unique and it's American. And it's been called the best blue cheese in the world.

Then there are the foods that aren't analogues at all, but are like peanut butter — distinctly American and not really understood in Europe. Our's come from Koeze's in Grand Rapids, made the traditional way with a slow grinding process, out of the best Virginia peanuts.

Some of these foods have been around for a long time, just waiting to be appreciated.

Frank Peluso's Teleme is a super creamy and oozy cow's milk cheese. His family has been making it in California for 70 years, although the location has recently moved cross-country, twice. Maybe nothing is more American than the great road trip. Well, Frank took this to new levels when he moved his operations to Maine last year, and then promptly moved back to California this year. Firmly settled back in California, the cheese is still perfect. The cheese is soft and decadent, with a nice dry rind that is covered mysteriously with a layer of rice flour.

A little more firmly rooted in California is the Fiscalini family with their San Joaquin Gold. An old Swiss family who started dairying in California in 1914, they have created a cheese wholly unique to the cheese world. It's sharp and fruity, dry yet somehow creamy. It can't really be categorized — is it a gouda or a cheddar? A fontina or a gruyere? It is a perfect cheese for picnics or grating over pasta.

It's hardly a new idea to press olives and make oil. Europe got the idea from Turkey and Lebanon a couple thousand years ago. It took California until the last decades to really get on board, but what the area lacks in ancient history, it makes up in quality. The Italians and French have had thousands of years to perfect their olive production. They have 400-year-old trees to prove it. But now, in side-by-side comparisons (you can do it here at the Deli) American olive oils often beat out their European analogues when it comes to depth of flavor, grassiness or peppery bite. In twenty years we went from smirking at the words extra-virgin to competing with Europe on taste. That's in just twenty years!

Pasolivo. Lila Jaeger. Rock Hill Ranch. These are the big names in American Olive Oil. They are Estates, like wine vineyards. These three family-run olive oil producers are producing products that win award after award and make the case for buying American. Lila Jaeger was one of those unheralded pioneers who changed the way people approach food in America. She was the driving force behind the creation of the California Olive Oil Council, a certification board that gives its seal of approval to only the very best American oils. Her own signature olive oil, a unique blend of bold Tuscan and soft Provencal olives, comes in part from some of the oldest olive trees in California. It is deeply green, like a freshly mowed field of alfalfa.

Pasolivo, from the Paso Robles Ranch in California just keeps winning awards. It was just named the Best American Olive Oil at the Los Angeles County Fair in the Robust category. And robust it is. This family run operation picks all their olives by hand to ensure gentle handling. They grow a mix of twelve different Tuscan olive varieties and blend them into an intoxicating All-American oil, that is more bold and brash than any Tuscan you will find on our shelves.

About thirty years ago, Napa Valley jumped into the food world when wine from the region beat out French classics in a blind taste test. Rock Hill Ranch in Napa Valley is now primed to knock Italy's olive oils off the pedestal. They use a blend of four Italian varieties of olive to create a sweet and gentle oil like you'd find on the Italian Riviera.

Maybe it's dramatic of me to equate the products we sell at our deli to being part of a revolution. I believe it though. This is food made by people who do everything right. They moved back to the land and back to making good, real food, when everyone else was moving off the land, into suburbs and eating fast food. These are food pioneers. Their vision is to create a better world through food. Producers of fine food know that their food is only as good as the land and the animals it comes from. Columbus Salame knows it can't make a good salami without pigs that were raised in a natural setting. The Fiscalini family carefully tended their fields and treated their cows like royalty before anyone talked about "certified organic".

America is on the cusp. It is ripe to blossom into a food paradise. Already a few flowers are blooming. In the next ten years, get ready for the most beautiful display of food you have ever seen, all coming from the United States. Europe, as Donald Rumsfeld famously proclaimed, is old. In many ways that is a good thing. Old food traditions tend to create delicious lasting flavors. Parmigiano Reggiano, English Cheddar, Jamon Serrano and Tuscan Olive Oil have histories dating back at least a thousand years or so. But Europe is across the Atlantic and full of Europeans. It simply cannot supply us with enough food. Eight-five percent of Italy's Prosciutto is consumed in Italy. The United States, with its analogues of old European food, and its brash new flavors, is ready to fill the void. Enjoy.

Jess Piskor
Retail Scribe