The Second Butcher Internship

Professionalism.  This is how I would summarize my second, week-long butcher internship.  Upon arriving in Waltershausen, I am welcomed by the owner, Marko, and shown to the changing room.  All set out for me are a butcher shirt, shoes, rubber boots, and a company hat.  Downstairs I find a rubber apron.  This place is definitely ordered and efficient.

From my early conversations with Marko, I knew my time here would be different than my first two internships.  The work day here starts at 4 AM, and there is no possible way that I could arrive to help out at that time; in fact, the earliest that I could get from Erfurt to Waltershausen is 8 AM.  It is because of this that I am only asked to observe for one week and am not needed on Wednesday when the work would be completed by the time I would have arrived.

My whirlwind internship begins with introductions to the front staff saleswomen and the back shop worker(s).  Marko used to have additional help, but I am learning that fewer young people are entering the food production industry, and those that do are not always the quality needed.  Now down to only one other butcher, Jens, their workday begins early to compensate for the skeleton crew.

In comparison to Marko’s talkative and open demeanor, Jens keeps giving me sidelong glances as if he is sizing me up.  While I had initially assumed that this reflected his disappointment in my lack of abilities, I learned throughout the week that he was simply deciding which hijinks he would play on me.

Within fifteen minutes of arriving, I am inundated with sausage categorization, meat quality, hygiene best practices, and industry terms (which I had to later translate into English).  My head is pounding within two hours – information overload.  Jens gets me involved and asks me to try out injecting some brine into some Kochschinken.  Although Marko continues to be the source of much of the meat processing process, Jens quizzes me to make sure that I understand; it is a great duo.  Inject, tummelt, smoked, pressed, gebrüht – this runs through my head as I translate what I can and internalize what I can’t.

Marko and Jens play out a weekly routine that includes breaking down of a half-pig and cuts of cow, delivered on Monday and used throughout the week.  I am able to witness that prep that starts early in the week with explanation of how it will then be incorporated in various sausages throughout the week.  There is a categorization of sausages: Rohwurst (the fermented sausages like Knackwurst), Kochwurst (the sausages that are ultimately cooked near boiling), and Brühwurst (sausages in scalding water, i.e., a lower temp than for Kochwurst).  Many of the Brühwurst are made multiple times throughout the week as they are expected to be fresh.  Kochwurst involves multiple steps and is slowly processed through the week.  For example, Sülze is made completely from meat from the head of a pig (with skin used for binding); the hair is removed early in the week, the head is boiled later in the week, the meat removed the from the bone shortly thereafter and finally the sausage processed at the end of the week.

The numerous types of sausages and their processing are all accomplished by these two guys in a tightly choreographed schedule.  As I transition back and forth from the back processing area to the dining area on the floor above, I pass by the shop always full of customers.  There is strong demand to purchase sausages from this last butcher in Waltershausen, a small town where there used to be 25 butchers operating prior to the wall coming down.

While a majority of the work is breaking down larger pieces of meat for various sausages or for direct sale to customers, there is a good amount of effort on sorting good pieces of meat for those less appealing.  As discussed in other posts, there are some good pieces of meat and ugly pieces of meat.  Generally, the ugly pieces are reserved for Leberwurst and sometimes for the Kochwurst.  However, when breaking down an animal at this butcher, I am learning that there are some pieces that are truly not even worth trying to save for human consumption.  It is from these pieces that I am introduced to “Dog Sausage”: a mixture of odds and ends that is then produced like a Kochwurst (with skin and blood for binding) and then sold to dog owners for their pets.  These are in such high demand that they are often sold even before they are made.  A fantastic way not to waste any meat, veiny sections, or unsold cooked meat.

A large piece of equipment to which I am introduced with the Kutter, or emulsifier.  This device takes ground meat and cuts it (and other ingredients) so finely that the final sausage is extremely smooth.  The blades rotate at such a high speed that it gradually heats up the sausage meat; consequently ice is added to cool the meat and ensure a longer processing time.  It is extremely loud.  But whether is it Teewurst, Bratwurst, or Pâté, the Kutter is an extremely important piece of machinery, especially for this butcher.

Near the end of the day, Jens approaches and quizzes me, “what do we do now?”  The answer, clean.  Each place I have been has taught me the importance of having the clean workshop.  This butcher is no different; we thoroughly clean each corner, wall, and floor each day and sometimes twice in a day if we are switching sausage categories.  To be efficient, the already hot water used from the Brühwurst is combined with a cleaning agent as we start our process.  This water smells a bit like a pork broth: Cleaning never smelled so delicious!

On my last day, we are making some blood sausage; this butcher makes four different types: one with tongue, one with chunks of liver, one with a filet in the middle, and one normal.  As I arrived in the morning, they are just finishing up some final sausages.  Jens invites me to try out the final blood sausage being mixed.  While I am unsure about eating a raw blood sausage mixture, Jens is quite adamant that I give it a go.  I try the salty, bloody meat, and Jens cracks up; it seems that I unwittingly just tried the Dog Sausage: the bony, veiny, ugly-meat mixture.

While I am unable to be of help in the long-term due to the distance from where I live, I will be back to visit; I am asked to bring back some of my homebrews, self-made cheese, and more of my homemade Mohnkuchen.  I am now eight months into my German artisanry tour, and I am meeting some amazing and welcoming craftspeople throughout this adventure.  Just watch out for Jens…