Small Batch: Pickles, Cheese, Chocolate, Spirits, and the Return of Artisanal Foods

246 Pages·2014·2.74 MB·English

by  Cope

Small Batch
Rowman & Littlefield
Studies in Food and Gastronomy
General Editor: Ken Albala, Professor of History, University of
the Pacific
([email protected])
Food studies is a vibrant and thriving field encompassing not
only cooking and eating habits but also issues such as health,
sustainability, food safety, and animal rights. Scholars in
disciplines as diverse as history, anthropology, sociology,
literature, and the arts focus on food. The mission of Rowman
& Littlefield Studies in Food and Gastronomy is to publish
the best in food scholarship, harnessing the energy, ideas, and
creativity of a wide array of food writers today. This broad line
of food-related titles will range from food history,
interdisciplinary food studies monographs, general interest
series, and popular trade titles to textbooks for students and
budding chefs, scholarly cookbooks, and reference works.
TITLES IN THE SERIES
Appetites and Aspirations in Vietnam: Food and Drink in the
Long Nineteenth Century, by Erica J. Peters Three World
Cuisines: Italian, Mexican, Chinese, by Ken Albala Food and
Social Media: You Are What You Tweet, by Signe Rousseau Food
and the Novel in Nineteenth-Century America, by Mark
McWilliams Man Bites Dog: Hot Dog Culture in America, by
Bruce Kraig and Patty Carrol New Orleans: A Food Biography, by
Elizabeth M. Williams (Big City Food
Biographies series) A Year in Food and Beer: Recipes and Beer
Pairings for Every Season, by Emily Baime and Darin Michaels
Breakfast: A History, by Heather Arndt Anderson (The Meals
series) Celebraciones Mexicanas: History, Traditions, and
Recipes, by Andrea Lawson Gray and Adriana Almazán Lahl
Food History Almanac: Over 1,300 Years of World Culinary
History, Culture, and Social Influence, by Janet Clarkson
The Food Section: Newspaper Women and the Culinary
Community, by Kimberly Wilmot Voss Small Batch: Pickles,
Cheese, Chocolate, Spirits, and the Return of Artisanal Foods, by
Suzanne Cope
Small Batch
Pickles, Cheese, Chocolate, Spirits, and the
Return of Artisanal Foods
Suzanne Cope
ROWMAN & LITTLEFIELD
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Copyright © 2014 by Rowman & Littlefield
All photos courtesy of Steve Mayone, except where credited otherwise.
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British Library Cataloguing in Publication Information Available
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Cope, Suzanne.
Small batch : pickles, cheese, chocolate, spirits, and the return of artisanal foods /
Suzanne Cope.
pages cm—(Rowman & Littlefield studies in food and gastronomy)
Includes bibliographical references and index.

ISBN 978-1-4422-2734-7 (cloth : alk. paper)—ISBN 978-1-4422-2735-4 (electronic) 1.
Food industry and trade—United States. 2. Cottage industries—United States. 3.
Small business—United States. I. Title.
HD9321.5.C588 2014
338.4'766400973—dc23
2014011222
TM The paper used in this publication meets the minimum requirements of
American National Standard for Information Sciences Permanence of Paper for
Printed Library Materials, ANSI/NISO Z39.48-1992.
Printed in the United States of America
Acknowledgments
Small Batch grew out of my dual love of true storytelling
and food. While it came from a very personal place—I had been
practicing home preserving and cheese making and urban
gardening and had been devoting more than a reasonable
portion of my time and disposable income to “artisanal” foods—
I approached this project with the eye of an academic. My goal
was to tell the stories of the artisans who graciously gave their
time, and often samples of products, without bias. Although I
will admit that my bias was inherent, in that I generally shared
most producers’ worldview regarding foodways. I encourage all
readers to seek out these artisans—and others like them—to
support these often barely self-sustaining businesses, as I truly
believe that their collective presence is an important one in our
continually changing food culture.
I must first thank the artisans who shared time and insight,
in person, on the phone, or via the Internet. Many are noted by
name here, as I used their stories and insights directly, but
there are others whose feedback influenced this book less
directly.
I also want to thank my editor, Ken Albala, whose initial
belief in my work led me to such an interesting project. And of
course I must thank my family, especially Steve, who was my
companion through much of this research and supportive
throughout, and Rocco, who was with me from the beginning.
Chapter 1
Artisanal Foods
From Here to There and Back Again
Did it start with fresh mozzarella, with a handwritten sign
that said it had been made that morning and sold, conveniently,
just a few tables away from the heirloom tomatoes and bunches
of fresh-picked basil? Or maybe it was the jars of pickles—
flavored with garlic and a sprig of fresh dill, which I had only
ever before seen my grandmother use—that lined the shelf of
the new small grocer, who sold mostly locally made goods. I
don’t recall the first time I truly became aware of the growing
offerings of “artisanal” goods that were for sale at the farmers
market or specialty shop where I bought much of my food. But
once I tasted them, I knew they were different from anything I
had eaten in a long time. I finally remembered that mozzarella
wasn’t just for melting, and could taste of cream and salt and
freshly mown grass. Pickles could crunch again—and they could
be spicy and tangy and more than vinegar-soaked cucumbers.
And I soon had my choice of offerings from a local chocolate
maker and other handmade goods made by mostly small, start-
up entrepreneurs as well.
I took the inherent narrative of these newly available foods
for granted. I assumed that each was made by one person or by
a small team, perhaps the same people selling them at the
farmers market or whose name graced the label. Because I had
been among those who had gotten to know the farmers who
sold me much of my produce, I supposed that many of these
new goods were made by folks with similar values: quality
ingredients, environmental stewardship, perhaps a connection
to the land and traditional preparation and preservation
methods. And as I got to know some of these producers, I found
that by and large I was correct. These small business owners
were passionate about their products and had often started
their business, in part, because of a desire to work with their
hands, to make a product that upheld many of the same values
hands, to make a product that upheld many of the same values
that I held dear with my food sourcing. I found my favorites in
my neighborhood, and I sought out others when I traveled
farther afield. “Artisanal” goods, these were starting to be
called. Sometimes “small batch” or “craft.” These descriptions
made sense—the mozzarella I often purchased was made by an
artisan who learned her craft from her grandfather. The pickles I
preferred were certainly made in small batches by one skilled
pickler. The chocolate and the spirits and the other products as
well exhibited a level of craft—nuanced quality and skill of
production—that their mass-produced counterparts lacked.
But then there were more and more of these products,
proudly defining themselves as “artisanal,” some seen in glossy
advertisements and on supermarket shelves and seemingly far
from the craftsmen and -women of the farmers market just a
few years prior. The idea of an “artisanal food revolution” was
being bandied about, and as I read the write-ups and tasted the
offerings of many of these new businesses I was soon left
wondering what the term meant to those who, I knew, were
pouring their heart and soul into every bottle of bourbon, every
round of cheese.
Artisanal has become one of the newest buzzwords used to
describe food and beverage products like chocolates, cheese,
and gin that have been showing up on shelves of specialty
shops and on tables at farmers markets within the last decade.
Like so many monikers before and since—such as “natural” and
“healthy”—the word is not regulated and has since been
adopted by behemoth companies like Frito-Lay and Domino’s
Pizza to describe their (by most accounts decidedly non-)
artisanal goods. Why the sudden interest in “artisanal” as a
product descriptor?
The word itself comes from the Italian artigiano, which
means “artisan” or “craftsman,” and refers to someone who
makes a specific product or provides a specialized service with
a high degree of skill, similar to the English word artisan.
Artisanal thus describes, in its broadest sense, a product that is
made by an artisan, and most properly, something that is
handmade, unique, and of high quality—the very opposite of
what we mean by mass-produced. Many believe it was the
industrialization of the American food system, with its cheap
meat and dairy, bland vegetables, and proliferation of
processed foods, that sparked a growing revolution back to
personal gardens, small farms, and traditional forms of food
preparation and preservation. Counterculture and “back-to-the-
land” movements from the 1960s through the 1980s, and the
rising environmental concerns of the early 2000s led to interest
in organic foods and small farms, eventually coining the term
locavore in 2005, and strengthening a movement toward more
local and sustainable food sourcing. But while most can agree
that the co-opting of the term by marketers in recent years is
causing the true meaning of the word artisan to be diluted, the
stereotype that has developed of the typical artisanal food
maker is also one that these new producers either embrace or
reject, and this further complicates the understood definition. I
will venture to ask—must there be art in artisanal? Is skill
enough? My goal is to begin to paint the landscape of the new
artisanal producer today by way of four craft products: pickles,
cheese, chocolate, and alcoholic spirits, looking at what
artisanal, craft, and small batch really mean and how this new
food revolution is reflecting the larger culture—and changing it
along the way.
HISTORY FROM SETTLEMENT TO MID-1900S
When the first permanent settlers from Europe arrived in
America in the early 1600s, they brought with them provisions
including cheese, oatmeal, bread and butter, peas, onions,
raisins, pork and beef, cider, beer, and some brandy. They
quickly established working farms and learned to hunt and fish
from Native Americans, replacing their disappearing stores with
rye, maize, wheat, game, and seafood. Those who had livestock
had access to milk and milk products, which, predating
refrigeration, was often in the form of curds. In fact the
preservation of milk in the form of curds and cheese—as well as
other methods for preserving foods—was continually being
developed at this time to provide nourishment beyond harvest
times and for sailors making increasingly long journeys between
and around the continents.[1]
In New England by the 1700s, major international trade
routes had been established and exotic goods such as spices,
sugar, coffee, and chocolate were widely available to
supplement the standard boiled meats and vegetables that
were popular among the growing colonies. Thus, these “exotics”
became a standard part of the average eighteenth-century
American diet, along with produce, meats, and dairy products
available locally and seasonally. The working-and middle-class
Puritans, mainly from England, were not used to much variety in
their diet, although the newly wealthy merchant class was
increasingly seeking out varied and extensive menus via their
access to international trade, adding new selections of meats,
sweets, and liquors to their diet. German immigrants came to
the New World around this time as well, settling farther south in
what is now Pennsylvania, bringing with them cast-iron cooking
pots, new kinds of sausages, and vinegar, among other culinary
influences.[2] Farther south, large plantations were established
that grew mainly tobacco, corn, and grain, as well as other
produce for subsistent consumption. Rum from the British West
Indies in the Caribbean that was easily imported to the north
was harder to come by in the south, and wine and beer was
more difficult to keep in the southern heat, so distilled liquors,
like corn whiskey, became a popular spirit in an area known for
prodigious drinking.[3]
By the 1800s, large urban areas were being established in
the north, creating low-income slums with little access to fresh
produce. Farm animals, such as dairy cows, were still being kept
within city limits, but the conditions were increasingly
unsanitary—garbage and animal waste pickup was not yet a city
function, and there was little ability to keep foods chilled,
leading to spoilage and illness. Outside of prime harvest times,
hearty vegetables like cabbage and foods preserved in salt or
vinegar provided the main sustenance for urban dwellers.[4]
Pickled and preserved produce, done in the home when