Whitney Williams - How the sausage is made

NICK EICHER, HOST: Today is Tuesday, November 16th. Good morning! This is The World and Everything in It from listener-supported WORLD Radio. I’m Nick Eicher.

MARY REICHARD, HOST: And I’m Mary Reichard. Ever wonder how sausage is made? WORLD commentator Whitney Williams tells all.

WHITNEY WILLIAMS, COMMENTATOR: On top of my family’s spaghetti, all covered with cheese, sits ground Italian sausage with quite a story.

AUDIO: [Driving on dirt/rock road]

Chapter one opens on a long dirt road in Throckmorton, Texas. I do a 360 degree scan of the area and spot no homes, cars, or signs of civilization, aside from an abandoned barn in the distance and enormous white windmills.

After a three hour drive with our 15-year-old four-wheeler in tow, we near the entrance to our hunting lease. My in-laws made the same trip, but with much more precious cargo. As we near their grey Chevy Silverado, I spot my three little boys in their backseat and smile.

My husband puts the truck in park, gets out, and makes small talk with his dad, even though we just saw them this morning. I get out of the passenger side of our truck to unlock and hold the gate open.

AUDIO: [Sound of gate creaking open, driving through]

Nana, Pawpaw, and my boys drive through slowly, windows down, giggling as they tell the herd of cows before us to “mooooooove.” Next, my husband drives through, offering me a halfhearted cat call as he passes by. I smile and latch the gate behind him.

Chapter two begins in a homemade wooden hunting stand just big enough for the five of us. It’s just before dark: AKA “Pig Thirty.” Daddy’s looking through his binoculars and I’m trying to keep three little boys still and quiet to avoid getting “the look.”

AUDIO: [Boys whispering]
Dad: Hey, can y’all ever just sit still for 10 minutes and be quiet so we can enjoy the sounds of nature?

After about an hour and a half of squirming and shushing, we call it a night.

The next morning my husband has a wild hog down faster than you can call suuueewwwwiiiiiieee.

AUDIO: [Walking through tall grass]

We walk through the tall grass to take a closer look.

AUDIO: Yeaaah. Pretty nice ‘en, pretty nice ‘en.

We each take a hold of a hoof and load the 250-plus pound hog on the back of the fourwheeler. We both get on and despite his foul smell, I keep a tight hold on him as we bump through the field toward our truck. I hold onto the hog, too.

AUDIO: [Sound of dressing hog]

My husband gets out his knife and gets to work. He has the backstrap, hams, and shoulders on ice within 10 minutes. We leave the rest for the coyotes. The Lord knows this girl can’t take another mount in her house.

AUDIO: [Sound of meat grinder]

Chapter three: Grind time. On a table in the garage, covered with a plastic tablecloth, sits a commercial-grade meat grinder. My husband cuts the meat off the bone with a knife that rivals Crocodile Dundee’s and we start feeding the pieces into the grinder. Once we’re done, we mix in Italian sausage seasoning with our hands, and put it all through the grinder again. Then we bag it, tag it, and freeze it. And that, my friends, is how the sausage is made.

I’m Whitney Williams.

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