Making salamis – Part 2

In this blog, guest writers, Aida, Gino and Mary Innocente continue to describe the processes of making the salami.

(The words in italics denote the Veneto dialect (v) or Italian name).

Gino Innocente, Adelaide,  1957-1958.

Salami-making occurred over a weekend. Usually the pig carcass was collected from the farm on Saturday and hung in the shed till Sunday, when the actual making occurred.

The salami-maker/pork butcher was key and king.  We referred to him as the becher (v pronounced bekar). This is the Veneto for butcher. He was busy every weekend in autumn. Once you found a becher, you did your best not to let him go! Leandro Bortoletto, Carlo Facchin, Siro Dal Zotto and ‘Schenna’ Ballestrin were amongst the pork butchers we used. They were not butchers, but they had learnt the specialised craft of making salamis in Italy. They brought all the equipment. The mincing machine (only motorised in the mid-sixties), knives, the working table were part of the deal.

The day started at 6 am. The becher carved up the meat, selecting the meat to be minced for the salamis and sopresse, the fillet for the capocollo and bacon for the pancetta, putting aside the skin for the cotechino (sausage made of pork, lard, pork rind which requires cooking), the sausage meat, the lard and prepping everyone’s favourites, the costesine (v) ribs.

Three or four men worked with the becher. The women also worked. They fed the meat into the mincer. Mary was responsible for providing hot water, stoking the fire for the copper boiler all day.  After the salamis were piped into the casings they were run through hot water, so the supply of hot water was important.

Gino with the famous German-made pocket scale 2021.

Salting the meat was crucial. Interestingly the becher did not salt the meat as this was considered an individual preference. In our family the task fell to Gino! This made his day extremely stressful as it was his responsibility to weigh all the meat prior to mincing then add the salt at 2.5% of the total weight.  Sausages had slightly less salt and the cotechino, that is boiled for 3 hours, had 3% salt. The meat for mincing was weighed in bucket-loads using a pocket balance that Gino still has.

Once the meat was minced and the seasoning added and kneaded through the meat thoroughly by hand by the becher and his helpers, it was time for meranda – breakfast! Elsa was responsible for the meals and snacks. For merenda she always made Zuppa di Trippa (tripe soup) and then the costesine and small bistecche (steaks), fresh from the pig, were barbecued. Friends and paesani were invited to merenda. There was a lot of chat and laughter. It was a celebratory meal.

Angelo and Gino Innocente and paesani making salami c 1970s.

After merenda, the actual making occurred.

The becher was responsible for packing the mince evenly into the casings. It was important that the packing was not too firm as in the process, the salamis could burst.  The mince would be threaded into the casings and then the becher held the salami under water and squeezed as much as possible, releasing excess moisture. The salamis were then pricked. String was wound at both ends of the salami, to hold it tight. The becher held the string in his mouth, biting it when he needed to tighten the knot. In time he wore a string feeder around his neck. Saving lots of harm to his teeth!

The becher would also string the capocollo and pancetta before and after they were encased in bungs. Later elastic netting was used.

Much folklore surrounded salami-making. Dates were set for when the moon was waning; menstruating women were not permitted to help as their condition might spoil the salamis. In Italy a prank was played on the unsuspecting (usually children or the naive) to go seek the mould for the martondee (v), a hamburger like pattie encased in stomach lining.  In on the joke, neighbours would hand over a bag full of weights to take back to the becher!

Keeping the becher happy on the day was a big priority. He was waited on hand and foot. Drinking wouldn’t start first thing but not much later, remembers Gino. The becher would say sti saadi i xe suti (v) “These salamis are dry.”  It was clear what he meant!

Syd Cousins (Gino and Mary’s grandson) inspecting salamis, c 2012.

At the end of the day the salamis were hung from rafters in the shed where they remained until they were dry, a period of 4-6 weeks. After that they were hung in the cellar where they remained until eaten.

Elsa Innocente and Kobey Nilsson (Vittorio & Angelina Marchioro’s great grandson), 2011.

And what was the best part of making salamis? Eating them of course!

Aida, Gino and Mary  Innocente
16 May 2021

Making salamis – Part 1

 

The guest writers for this, and the next blog are Aida Innocente and her uncle and aunt, Gino and Mary Innocente. They have documented the steps in the processes of the annual custom of making salamis.

Gino Innocente arrived in Australia from Caselle di Altivole in November 1954. He was 17. He lived with his brother Angelo and sister-in-law Elsa in White Avenue, Lockleys till he married Mary Rusalen in 1963. Mary had migrated with her family from Fossalon near Trieste in 1950. The Rusalen family were originally from Istria. Gino and Mary moved into the house they built on Carlo Street, off Frogmore Road, after the wedding.

Gino and Angelo Innocente, Lockleys, on Angelo’s 80th birthday, Wayville,  November 2001. Photo courtesy of Aida Innocente.

Gino and Mary shared their memories of making salamis with their niece Aida. The words in italics denote the Veneto dialect (v.) or Italian name for the item described.

The autumn killing of the pig was an important tradition in Italy. Contadini (peasants or country people) reared the piglet.  All families had a pigsty.  The pig products gave rural families an important food boost for the entire year. Nothing was wasted: the head (scrogno v.), the feet, the ears, the bones, even the tail were eaten. The blood was used to make a torta (cake). The blood was caught when the pig was slaughtered, and the torta was made immediately. It was a sponge-like, soft cake. The lard was encased and the tallow (strut v. or dezfrit v.) was clarified and put in jars. Both were used in place of oil. Lard was also used for making soap. In Australia excess lard was often thrown away!  Gino remembers that one year there were over 100 kilos of lard from the two pigs they had bought from a farmer in Virginia who promptly took 40 kilos off the final price.

In Italy there was a tax on killing pigs. The dazier (v.) from the Comune (local Council) wasn’t a well-liked official!

In Australia salami making occurred in May and June.  The process involved several stages.

Firstly, the pig was sourced. Pig farmers from Mount Compass and the Bolivar area (often clients of Angelo’s half-case company), were used. Three months before the salami-making day the pig was chosen. Male pigs were preferred. The meat of sows is considered tougher. If the sow is in season the salami will go bad. This would also delay the salami-making.

The farmer was advised one week before the pig was required as he arranged the slaughter with the abattoir. In the early years the farmer himself would slaughter the pig!  The carcass was taken home in two halves and hung in the shed overnight.

Pig carcasses,  Santin shed, Frogmore Road, c mid 1960s. Photo courtesy of Santin family.

The week leading to the salami making was very busy. Salt, pepper, different sized casings all had to be procured.  A local Findon butcher and in later years Master Butchers were our suppliers.  Casings are the intestines of animals. Ox bungs were used for capocollo (cured meat from the neck or shoulder – we added the fillet to the capocollo) and pancetta (cured belly of pork); ox middles for salamis and smaller casings for sausages. Sheep bungs were used for the sopresse (aged large salamis). Casings are full of salt and Gino’s job was to wash them thoroughly. Lemon and vinegar were added to the final rinse. You had to order more than needed as you could not afford to run out of casings!

The shed was cleaned; the copper prepped for the boiling water required throughout the day (keeping the hot water coming was Mary’s job on the day) and a big hole was dug in the backyard where all excesses were buried. Cloths used to dry the skins and all things organic also went in the hole. Lockleys has sandy soil and unbelievably by the next year everything had decomposed. Angelo dug the hole in the same place every year for almost half a century!

Gino made salamis every year from 1957 till 2014.

Members of the Ballestrin family making salami, Flinders Park, 1980s. Photo courtesy of Joanne Camozzato.

It was an important Italian tradition that was carried on in Australia. The Veneti in our community had great pride in their salamis and everyone thought their salamis were the best.  There was a lot of healthy rivalry.  Guests, when they came to visit, in fiò (v), were offered bread and salami for supper. Nothing could be better. Serving the capocollo for the first time was always a special occasion shared with family and friends because it was the most prized of the pig’s produce!

Aida and Angelo Innocente, Wayville, November 2001.

In the next blog we will describe what happened on the salami-making day!

Aida, Gino and Mary Innocente
2 May 2021

 

The vagon of Secondo Tonellato – part 2

 

In this blog, Alex Bennett continues his story about the vagon or railway carriage that Secondo Tonellato bought to accommodate his wife, Elisabetta, and five children when they arrived in Adelaide in 1935.

In the second instalment of this article about the vagon we learn of some possible cracks in the story that Prince Albert, the Duke of York the future King of England travelled in this particular carriage in during the Royal Tour of 1927.

Photo courtesy Wikipedia: State Car 4 Royal Tour 1927.

Unfortunately, in the only available photo of the Royal couple on the Royal Train during the 1927 tour it is clear that the roof shape is raised in the centre and quite different to that of the vagon.  It is assumed that all cars in the royal Train were of the same type but this not definite.

The following article from The Adelaide Chronicle may provide an alternative explanation for the Royal connection of the vagon.

NEW RAILWAY CAR “WILLOCHRA” READY FOR DUKE

The Railways Commissioner’s inspection car, which was completed a few days ago in readiness for use by the Duke of Gloucester while travelling on the South Australian Railways has many modem improvements. The internal woodwork is finished in Queensland walnut, Tasmanian blackwood, and rosewood veneer. The observation department at the rear end of the carriage has comfortable lounge chairs upholstered in blue. A settee is finished in the same colour, and above it is a concealed wireless set. – Next to this compartment is the Commissioner’s private cabin, which will be used by the Duke. It is fitted with a special double wardrobe, and opens into a miniature bathroom with shower and porcelain wash basin. The other compartments have seats which can be converted into berths, an upper berth each, wardrobes, and wash basin. A small dining saloon is at the front end of the car, and the kitchen has fuel cooking appliances and a refrigerator. A small lounge fitted with comfortable chairs completes the car, which Is 78 ft. long. (Adelaide Chronicle, October 1934)

While it is believed that the “Willochra” was part of the 1927 Royal Tour train it is possible that the vagon was part of the Duke of Gloucester’s Royal Tour train and used on his visit to Adelaide in October 1934.  The Duke later became Governor General of Australia.  This carriage was decommissioned after the Royal Tour which fits the time line for its purchase by Secondo Tonellato in 1935.

We do know from reports of veneti who knew the vagon that it was much more luxurious than any other train carriages of the time.  For example, Lino Tonellato remembers it because he lived in it:

It was a royal carriage because all the … every window had hunting dogs and the dogs and the …… and the horses, you know, hunting and that … Oh yeah, all carved  in the mirror. (Lino Tonellato 6 July 2010)

The vagon was unfortunately destroyed by fire in the 1960s and  a few of the etched windows are all that remains now.

Dino Piovesan holds one of the windows from the vagon, May 2013.  Photo courtesy of Alex Bennett

Dino Piovesan brought one of the windows to an event in 2013 and it was beautiful – bevelled glass with etchings including hunting scenes, with deer with mountain peaks in the background – tantalising evidence that the vagon at some time was fit for a king.

 

Alex Bennett
18 April 2021

 

 

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