Vintage Recipe Roulette: Frankfurter Scallop
A lil' tiptoe through USDA labeling regulations is...not the best aperitif
In case this is your first time visiting the Department of Antediluvian Disquietude and you missed the first installment, this is the latest in a series of Vintage Recipe Roulette reviews using only recipes from Talk About Good, my grandmother’s 1975 community church cookbook. In just 164 pages, this collection of homestyle recipes encapsulates the unlikely intersections of 1800s frontier cuisine, post-war convenience foods, and the mid-century American fetishization of canned chow mein noodles. It is untested, unstandardized, and unmatched in its vintage glory in my opinion. Some of the recipes are amazingly good! And some are amazingly…not. I’m a mostly vegetarian registered dietitian — can I stomach an honest-to-goodness hot dog for the first time in my adult life? Let’s find out!
By popular demand of people I would previously have believed were my friends, this week we’re making Frankfurter Scallop. One friend was afraid this meant making mock scallops out of hot dog rounds, but as bad as that sounds, this is even worse: a full court press of cream of mushroom, American cheese, and plain ol’ hot dogs. At least it’s only the second most offensive recipe on this page.
In a real Dr. Jekyl/Mr. Hyde move, though, this yesteryear recipe juxtaposes those paragons of processing with fresh parsley, celery leaves, tomatoes, onions, and potatoes. At least, I think the parsley is supposed to be fresh. Surely it doesn’t call for 1/4 c of dried parsley?
I actually hold Campbell’s near and dear to my nostalgic heart, but more than a soupçon of their cream of mushroom gives me hives, so Pacific brand it is. And now, alas, to the dreaded hot dogs. Why the long face? My former father-in-law, a fine person and veterinarian, used to tell a story about his final biology lab practicum, with different cell types set up in microscope slides for identification. One was a real head-scratcher, appearing to contain muscle cells, blood cells, collagen, bone, and several other cell types in a single tissue. The professor explained later, laughing, that it had been a ringer that he always slipped in for amusement — a slide prep of hot dog, because he knew it would contain all manner of nonsense. It’s not like I loved hot dogs before that story, but after it? No thank you.
Of course, there’s another reason for my foot-dragging: lots of studies show processed meats are, charitably, not great for the ol’ ticker. Limiting red meat in general is associated with lower rates of cancer and heart disease, and when they do careful, picky studies, it looks like the most damaging kind is preserved meats, items that are still pink or red when they’re cooked, like bacon, ham, pepperoni. You know, all the really good ones.
Why are they apparently such a particular problem? They’re typically high in calories and saturated fats and salt, and often added to the salt is a delicious, delicious flavoring: nitrite. Humans looooove the savory bite of nitrite (with an I). Unfortunately, it’s an oxidant, and it probably contributes to inflammation. There’s a new version on the cold meat horizon though, which is flavoring with natural sources of nitrate (with an A), like celery extract. Is it better for you? Well, depending on a lot of factors like what else is in the meal and what kind of microflora inhabit your mouth, your body does convert some to nitrite with an I, but let’s say it might be less bad. When I buy this kind of meat, I choose uncured…but I also don’t buy this kind of meat often, and I’ll be keeping an eye on the emerging research.
The people have spoken, though, so I have purchased hot dogs for the first time in my entire adult life. What price glory!
With that particular chemical caution in mind, I chose…Oscar Meyer?!? THE Oscar Meyer? My-bologna-has-a-first-name Oscar Meyer? Yep, although they still have several products with nitrite and retain their kid-friendly primary colored packaging, great swaths of their product lineup is now flavored with celery, which is remarkably lifelike. They even have lower-fat turkey versions. For this, I chose their uncured beef, to try to stay as close to the original as possible without consuming more than 1-3 (ugh) distinct tissues.
If this isn’t your first food-labeling rodeo, though, you’ll be wondering about the fine print, and bless your cynical heart. In general, I’m a big fan of the USDA — they do SO MUCH important work that is invisible to the consumer — but there’s heavy pressure from industry lobbyists and government representatives. The food industry is highly motivated to play it fast and loose when it comes to labeling tricks — just ask the Corn Refiner’s Association about the difference between “corn sugar” and “corn syrup”. Happily, the USDA specifically says that “all beef” items cannot include things like mechanically separated leftover bits or byproducts. There are also standards ensuring that things like “beef curry” contain at least 50% beef so that they can’t skimp on the protein with gravy and potatoes. Great news, right? Well…there are some gray areas. If you check that link, you’ll see that, while there are very entertaining entries for things like “PHOSPHATES IN DIPPING SOLUTIONS CONTAINING PROTEOLYTIC ENZYMES”, or a “NUGGET LABELING” entry that includes the word “fanciful”, there’s not actually any entry for the definition of “beef” or “frankfurter”. And though there are minimum percentages for main ingredients, there are often maximum percentages allowed for things like “trimmings” and “cheeks” before they have to be labeled by name. It’s all about semantics…
And if you aren’t using the word “beef in the name proper, the byproduct sky’s the limit.
“Wide range of nonmeat ingredients” and “believed to be self-limiting”. Mmm-mmm, just like mom used to make!
I absolutely believe that it’s best, environmentally and ethically, to use the whole animal if you’re going to use part of it. I also think it’s best I stop thinking about it for the duration of this article..but you might want to think about it the next time you’re shopping for groceries (see some alternatives at the end).
Let’s get my mind off the disgusting perplexity of what the word “beef” means and look at how surprisingly beautiful the ingredients are once layered in so that you can’t see the hot dogs! Although you need to know to grease the pan and that “cook slowly” means simmer over the very lowest stovetop heat or bake at about 325, this recipe has a lot of nice detail about how the vegetable slicing and assembly should go.
What it makes up for in instruction details, though, it really lacks in seasoning. Salt, pepper, and a faint dusting of celery (leaves only) is as spicy as it gets.
In a further effort to limit pesky flavor development, it specifies using a Dutch oven with a tight fitting lid, because you really want to get all those partially defatted technically beef trimmings steamed up in there. No unwanted, salacious browning here!
Okay, confession time, y’all: I pre-browned the sliced dogs. This will fundamentally alter the vintage texture, but I’m not sorry. I have to swallow this in order to review it, and hot dog texture gives me the serious urks. In addition to adding some color, yummy flavor, and a blessed smidge of texture, and probably some carcinogens like nitrosamines (ooops), this also renders at least a little of the fat for draining-off purposes.
So, it looks nice at least until you glop it with condensed soup. After slow baking (which took 1 1/2 times the stated minutes)…well, it’s homely. I gussied it up with a little parsley corsage, but it turned up for senior prom wearing a regrettably dishwater-beige gown, and we all learned the hard way how impossible it is to get a good wallet-sized photo of that.
As for the experience of eating it? It smells great, and it tastes pretty good, but my 21st-century tastebuds really need some herbs and spices. It also has a frank(furter)ly insane amount of onions even if you use the USDA sizing standards (which I absolutely did, yes). Cut it down to one onion, add some thyme, use real cheddar, and maybe try Cream of Jalapeno (HEB or Meijer’s). It could use a little more sauce, so pouring a cup and a half or so of any poblano chowder or creamy soup you like would be excellent, as well as allowing that very low stovetop simmer without so much burn risk. The realistic baking time makes it awkward for a weeknight, but if you toss the sliced potatoes and onions in a glass 9x9 pan and microwave for about 5 minutes, then add the rest and bake covered for 25-30 minutes, it makes more sense.
My main issue is the hot dog texture. The technically meat blends right in with softened vegetables. A better-textured, lower fat, and no nitrite OR nitrate alternative is something like Billinski’s chicken sausage — the spicy Italian or Spinach and Feta would be delish in this.
In sum, like many wholesome vintage recipes, this is a fine addition to your dinner rotation, as long as you change all the ingredients and the cooking instructions.
And then close your eyes when you eat it.
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Dear lord.