The History Of Portland's Processed Meat Industry According to a Considerably Ignorant Historian

There is potential here for some confusion. This is a work of complete fiction. It was a writing assignment for my small group writing class. The names of the characters in this work have not been changed since they probably don't exist anyway.

It would be cool if they did though.

The Seattle Sausage Eatery is conveniently located next to the Legacy Good Samaritan Hospital & Medical Center in downtown Portland, Oregon. The diner is considered by many to be a historical and political landmark as much as it is a "quality eating establishment."

Being misunderstood as a Seattle-based chain the owner of the diner can often be overheard explaining to inquisitive patrons that, “no we aren't’ a chain and no we aren’t based out of Seattle.” What the owner categorically fails to mention is why the diner has Seattle in the name at all. It's possible that the owner's abrupt reply inhibits further investigation but the answer to that question has yet to be acquired. It's been said that even the owner’s closest friends have failed to pry any light on the subject from his odd disposition of secrecy.

Regardless of any mystery that has surrounded this ill-named diner in the past it remains to be the lunch hour hot spot for some of Portland’s finest doctors, nurses & blue wristband wearing patience.

It has often been stated that should anyone ever experience the mildest symptoms of a flu, cold or fever and didn’t want to go through all the fuss of scheduling an appointment, one could simply walk into the Seattle Sausage and casually mention, while waiting to be seated, any or all symptoms that happened to ail them and they would promptly receive a quick physical, a prescription, an ear full of advice and a hot dog while they waited for their physician to complete his or her lunch diner assessment.

It has been rumored that the minimum employee requirement at the diner is a PHD from no particular medical center in the country, but preferably one on the east coast, and should the need arise, any given bus boy could perform CPR, the Heimlich and deliver a child all while prepping the next table for another sausage loving patron to occupy.

In addition to it’s presumably untouchable polish sausage, the average Portlander is well acquainted with the fact that the Seattle Sausage is home to the “legendary” Piping Pickle Platter. It’s reputation solidified by the words of Slew Himmerman, the acclaimed Portland Herald food critic, as being “the best damn pickle platter I have ever tasted in my entire life.”

The weight of such appraisal was cemented in the readers minds based on rumors that Slew made his assessment in the middle of some financially difficult times, an encounter with a late blooming chicken pocks episode and a relationship with his wife that was characterized by a never ending notion of contempt giving their marriage the same type of feel you might find in the relationship a tax evading citizen would have with an IRS agent that showed up at his doorstep on a Sunday afternoon. In fact they say, at the time of the tasting, that after cramming the remains of the pickle platter into his mouth, Slew rushed home to proclaim to a confused and, no doubt, embarrassed wife that he had found a “new love in his life” and that his mistress was green, short and stubby and came in his choice of simmering sauce.

From that moment on the Seattle Sausage's fate was sealed in stone. Over the course of the next 14 years from 1977 to 1991 the Seattle Sausage Eatery played a role in the mounting and execution of, what a newspaper columnist would later describe as, “pivotal events in Portland’s meat loving history.” From the birthing of the “healthy processed meat initiative” that was a response to the growing health food craze descriptive of the early 90s to the increasingly volatile state of the Polish and German communities, the small diner’s gravity could be felt throughout the Portland area.

In 1978 it was said that the socioeconomic unrest surrounding the meat industry reached an all time high. Some likened it to the unrest that eventually led to the Civil War in 1861.

Roughly 90% of the hot dog stands in the city were owned and operated by German immigrants who had made there way to the US in the 30s & 40s. After several unsuccessful attempts at breaking into the cabbage and squash markets that proved lucrative during the time for the Romanians, the Germans quickly turned to the meat industry understanding that while squash took a decidedly minimal role in their native land’s eating habits – bratwursts and other obscure forms of meat played a dominant role in not only their nations menu of choice but incorporated the well known German beer industry as well.

In just under 3 years the German dominated bratwurst market went from being a Thursday evening afterthought to claiming the title of “Sexiest Lunch Food in America” according to the Gourmet Magazine’s weekly newsletter. Evolving from meat on a stick served at carnivals to playing a dominant role in the parties and social get-togethers of the rich and famous. Many economic commentators and analysts sited the bratwurst market as being the fastest growing market in US history surpassed only by the technology industries that took flight in the later part of the 20th century.

It was only a matter of time before the Germans’ took over the struggling Polish sausage market as well. Sure enough it didn’t take long for the entrepreneurial genius of the Germans to effect and eventually dominate not only the Polish sausage industry but the hot dog industry as well which, up to that point, had been controled by Oscar Mayer Wiener, an American owned company which successfully aided and secured the hot dog’s image as being America’s consumable icon of choice.

It’s unclear how long the German’s would have held the title of “Heiß Hund Könige” (Hot Dog Kings) had the Seattle Sausage not opened its doors in 1977 by an extremely secretive but undeniably brilliant gentlemen by the name of Jeeves Hazle who, most agreed, possessed many of the same physical traits as the sausages he served. Many of Portland’s children decided that if indeed man could trace his origins back to the primate, Jeeves could just as easily track his ancestry back to a meat processing plant somewhere in the northern part of New Hampshire.

Regardless of Jeeves Hazle’s questionable origin, no one could deny his ability to infiltrate and upset the German meat market of the late 70s. For the better part of six months the Seattle Sausage provided what most considered a superior product. It was agreed however that the marginally better sausages weren’t enough to over throw the shear convenience the hot dog stands provided simply by the fact that they existed on just about every corner of Portland. The Seattle Sausage’s dominance was solidified however on the eve of the summer of 1979 when Jeeves unveiled the Piping Pickle Platter. It was served in hot, medium or mild and came with a side of mustard, ranch or an unidentifiable red sauce that, when asked about, would be described by the owner as “my own special recipe of something a little tasty taste.”

The platter was described as the pickle that broke the carts wheel, as it was an all but academic fact that a good Piping Pickle Platter could never be prepared and served properly from a cart - much to the chagrin of the Germans.

The Seattle Sausage had proven it’s commanding dominance as a sausage serving powerhouse for the better part of two decades and the German meat industry had been turned on it’s head. While some of the German populace decided to remain in the hot dog stand business, most left it in favor of their beer-brewing heritage and opened up pubs and brewery’s all over town. Ironically Jeeves Hazle would later befriend his German, business owning associates at the annual Oktoberfest held by the city and the semiannual bear and bratwurst conferences held at the convention center.

It’s been rumored that Jeeves and some well-to-do German capitalists have been working on an exciting new development involving a bratwurst/polish hybrid and Jeeves’ "tasty taste" red sauce that, if proven successful, will once again succeed in revolutionizing the way Portlanders consume their processed meat-based lunch time specials.