Summary

The author shares a personal journey through favorite sausages from 1954 to 1959, each year marked by a significant memory and a specific type of sausage.

Abstract

In a reflective article, the author recounts their most cherished sausages from each year between 1954 and 1959, linking each choice to a pivotal personal event or discovery. The piece begins with the author's decision to partake in the trend of listing favorite things from every year of life, focusing on sausages due to their limited knowledge of movies. The narrative then unfolds with the author describing their experiences with different sausages from around the world, including the Butifarra from Spain, the Kielbasa from Poland, the Kurobuta from Japan, the Andouille from France, the Haggis from Scotland, and the Ryynimakkara from Finland. Each sausage is associated with a memorable moment, such as Marilyn Monroe's marriage in 1954, the completion of a museum-home for a poet in 1955, and the first "cod war" in 1958. The author's passion for sausages is evident as they recount tales of discovery, love, and culinary delight, inviting readers to share their own sausage experiences in the comments.

Opinions

The author believes that the Butifarra sausage has a magical quality, capable of inducing joy and a sense of nirvana.
They hold the Kielbasa in high regard, particularly those made by Katarzyna in Gdynia, which evoke fond memories of the only summer they spent together.
The Kurobuta sausage, as prepared by Chef Makoto Okuwa, is considered by the author to be an otherworldly culinary experience, even compared to the pleasures of sex.
The Andouille sausage is humorously recalled as part of a French tradition following the Tour de France, where the author and their sailor comrades were outmatched by the locals in an eating competition.
The Haggis is praised for its gastronomical diversity and as a symbol of Scottish creativity, with the author enjoying it daily during their time in Scotland.
The Ryynimakkara, a Finnish sausage with cooked barley groats, is described as unforgettable, and the author's appreciation for it led to a romantic connection with the cook's cousin.
The author is open-minded and eager to learn about new sausages, encouraging reader interaction and the sharing of sausage experiences.

My Favorite Sausages from Every Year I’ve Been Alive (Part Two: 1954–1959)

Never underestimate the taste of a sausage

Backstory

A few of my favorite writers recently started what is going to be the trend of summer 2022: “Favorite Stuff from Every Year I’ve Been Alive.” Stuff can be movies, books, music albums, …, anything you want really. (I linked some of their articles at the end.)

I don’t know much about movies, but I know a thing or two about sausages.

The following list is a collection of very personal choices. Many of you will have strong and different opinions as to which sausages are the tastiest, prettiest, or the most historically significant.

I understand.

Please share your thoughts in the comments; I’m always willing to try a new sausage.

1954 — The Butifarra

1954 will forever remain the year Marilyn broke up with me and married Joe. As I was nineteen, I over-reacted and, out of desperation, I boarded the first boat willing to take me on board.

Seven months later, I disembarked in Spain.

There I discovered the butifarra.

It might be a “basic sausage recipe,” but it’s a magical one.

As the poem goes,

Eat one butifarra, and you want to dance the bachata. Eat two butifarras, and you participate in a corrida. Eat three butifarras, and you enter nirvana.

1955 — The Kielbasa

On January 6, 1955, the museum-home of the famous poet Mickiewicz was completed in Nowogrodek.

As a life-long admirer of Pan Tadeusz Mickiewicz, I had to be there.

Little did I know this trip would last for the whole year and send me across Poland to discover the different traditional kielbasa recipes.

My favorites will forever remain the smoked sausages Katarzyna cooked for me in Gdynia during the only summer we spent together. What a memory!

1956 — The Kurobuta

Back on the boat with only regular sausages to eat. Ricardo, our beloved cook, saved the day, every day for seven months. Thanks to an unlimited stash of spices, he was able to distract us from the regular pork we had on our plates.

That and the culinary tales he told us at dinner.

He couldn’t stop talking about Chef Makoto Okuwa’s famous recipe. According to Ricardo, even sex was less tasty than Okuwa’s Kurobuta sausage scrambled eggs with truffle honey spinach and Japanese potato croquette.

And we followed his advice.

When we arrived in Osaka, instead of hitting the bars for sake and girls, we went to Chef Okuwa’s restaurant and tasted heaven.

On December 12, Japan became a member of the United Nations, and we set sail for France.

1957 — The Andouille

We arrived in France on July 20, the last day of the Tour de France’s 44th edition (a cycling competition). Jacques Anquetil won. We had no idea who he was but were happy to join the party.

In Le Havre, the tradition was to have an all-you-can-eat Andouille competition at the end of each Tour de France. Don’t ask me why, I don’t remember.

After six months at sea, we thought we could win the thing.

What a big mistake. The French had been training while we were sailing. And it showed. Our team of sailors ended up in last place. But we were happy and satiated losers.

As a consolation prize, they sent us to Scotland.

1958 — The Haggis

I’m not proud to say I was there on September 1, when the first of the “cod wars” started. Our ship was part of the fleet that set sailed towards Icelandic waters. We were supposed to scare them off and show how strong and determined we were.

The new cook, Leo, was a Scotsman.

Born and raised a Scot, he had learned hundreds of haggis recipes from his grandmother. In his folklore, haggis was a synonym for stamina and heroic prowess.

During the six months of our engagement, we ate haggis sausages every day, and I can’t say I was ever disappointed. Each dinner was a gastronomical experience. The Haggis is a tribute to Scottish inventiveness and creativity.

1959 — The Ryynimakkara

By the end of 1958, we were sick of the cod wars and asked the captain for a new assignment. His wife was Finnish, and he missed her, so we set sail towards Helsinki. We were planning on organizing cruises for tourists in the fjords.

The wife’s captain was so happy to see her husband that, for each night he would spend at home, she would celebrate by cooking dinner for him and one of his crew members.

February 10, 1959, it was my turn. They invited me to taste the unforgettable Ryynimakkara, a sausage prepared with cooked barley groats. I couldn’t stop eating and complimented the cook profusely. At that time, it was the best sausage I had ever eaten.

The captain’s wife blushed and was so pleased with my praise that she introduced me to her cousin twice removed, Anneli, who happened to be the sausage expert in their family.

We fell in love, and I thought I would stay forever in Finland, but, as it turned out, my love for sausages was too strong, and after one year, I was back on a boat to discover other countries and their famous sausages.

But that’s a story I’ll keep for part three!

For more sausages, click here.

If you prefer movies, read Simon Dillon:

Favourite Films From Every Year I’ve Been Alive: Part Three (2006–2021)

Part three of an agonisingly difficult selection.

medium.com

If you prefer songs, read Paul Combs:

My Favorite Album from Every Year I’ve Been Alive (Part Five: 2010–2022)

The final installment of what’s been a wild ride

medium.com