Organic sausage, reduced-fat Oreos and other oxymorons

I have a friend who claims that he makes “organic sausage.” That’s right, organic sausage. This is an otherwise reasonable man, he’s just spent too much of his life living in California.
I have pointed out to him that “organic sausage” is an oxymoron like “jumbo shrimp” or “compassionate conservative.” The words just don’t go together.
I believe it was Will Rogers (or possibly Chairman Mao) who once said, “Those who respect the law or love sausage should never watch either of them being made.”
That may not be the exact quote, but the implication is clear. You don’t want to know what’s in sausage. It’s full of pig pancreases and other less than appetizing pig bits ground into an indistinguishable goo and packed into something else that you don’t want to think about. And it tastes great.
The quote may also say something about Congress, but I’m not sure. Do they make laws from pig parts?
Anyway, when you sterilize the sausage making process by using only the traditionally edible parts of the pig, you take all of the adventure, and I suspect much of the flavor, out of it. You also, I’m sure, raise the price from $2.19 a pound to $5.49. Pig pancreases are cheap. (I’m not even sure a pig has a pancreas.)
But organic sausage in only one in a long line of “improved” foods. Most of these improvements are designed to make the products better for you. Some of these attempts are more successful than others.
Low-fat mayonnaise tastes pretty much the same as the real thing. And low-fat sour cream is surprisingly edible. But non-fat sour cream tastes like bathroom caulk. What we’re talking about here is non-fat fat. What does that leave? It leaves whatever is holding the fat together – caulk.
You can find “turkey bacon,” baked “potato chips” and even non alcoholic “beer.” Why?
I am somewhat conflicted by all of this. I support the search for the high-fiber, low fat, sodium-free bacon cheeseburger. But when you’re finished, come to me with something that actually tastes like the real thing. The solution is not to suck all the flavor out with the fat.
There’s always someone who will tell you that they taste the same as the original product. That person invariably has 3-percent body fat and the metabolism of a hummingbird. Save your granola breath and go back to the drawing board.
And there are some things with which you should not mess. One of them is Oreo Cookies. The reduced fat Oreo is another oxymoron. Oreos are synonymous with fat. That stuff in the middle is essentially Crisco and sugar. If you take out the fat, you should have to call it something else.
I know that there are many methods, but this is how I eat an Oreo. I grab the little black-and-white slice of heaven by the sides and dunk it in a glass of milk. I hold the cookie under until it’s thoroughly drowned.
The milk should be so cold that it’s difficult to keep my thumb and forefinger in the glass long enough. But I dare not let go because if I do the cookie will sink to the bottom the glass and break up like the Titanic.
You can tell when an Oreo has given up the ghost when there are no more little bubbles making their way to the surface of the milk. I then eat the entire cookie in one bite, including the quarter cup of milk that it has absorbed.
You can’t do that with a reduced-fat Oreo. Reduced-fat Oreos are about as absorbent as linoleum. It’s like trying to drown a small, round piece of plywood. I once dropped a reduced-fat Oreo into a glass of milk and it floated for 45 minutes before sinking.
My wife buys the reduced-fat Oreos because she knows that I won’t eat them and the kids will get some. Regular Oreos disappear half a dozen at a time until my daughter asks, “What do you mean there are no more Oreos? Mom just bought that bag.”
I just shrug and smile with black stuff in the corners of my mouth and fingers pruned from holding them in a glass of milk.
I’m in my mid 40s now and my body doesn’t burn Oreos at the rate it used to and my wife, Stacy, and I continue to look for solutions. It probably has something to do with exercise, but that’s another column.
There are some healthy alternatives out there. I can’t remember the last time I had real Coke or whole milk, but baked potato chips that taste like cardboard are not the answer, and neither are reduced fat Oreos.