Making Sausage

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I had fresh Italian sausage for dinner last night…

Me, my brother and a couple of buddies (Scott & Daryl) cut up, ground, mixed and stuffed 120 pounds of sausage.

I appreciate being there every time because it’s one tradition that has endured for decades.

The recipe was Grandpa Fuzzy’s. He passed it to Dad and then on to Jim.

It always starts the same way:

“How’s your supply?” Jim will ask.

“Been out for a while.”

This time, Scott did a lot of the leg work, picking up what we needed and getting it all to Jim’s where the equipment is there waiting.

“7:30 start,” Jim texted, “Saturday morning.”

I was late, and got the text as I made my way.

“Let’s go!”

And we all know our jobs. I pack and label the bags and clean the dishes.

Jim and Scott stuff and Daryl helped me with the packaging and working with the casings.

We all do a hit from the bottle of Anisette before we get started and that’s in honor of Dad…

…he definitely started that tradition.

Not only is the sausage perfect every time when the recipe is followed but we also think of all those who were there to help…

…and can no longer make it - Dad, Jeff, Uncle Jim.

And those not involved in this batch - Larry and the Switala’s and my brother, John.

We can all feel them in the room with us and the stories fly around, and the laughter rings off those walls.

We stuffed 120 pounds of sausage, in just about 3 hours, and we split the cost.

$2.00 a pound!

I stood at the freezer, loading up plastic bags filled with my share of the loot.

“I feel like I’m robbing a bank,” I said, as I tossed the last package into the bag.

“We gotta’ get the kids involved in this,” Jim said, “So the next generation carries it on.”

Not quite sure if they’re going to jump in…

…Hope so.

It’s worth it, every time.

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