texasmesquite

How ketchup conquered American taste buds

By Jennifer Graue

for the Mercury News


The high holy day of hot dogs and hamburgers is fast approaching, and as our consumption of these summertime cookout staples reaches its peak on the Fourth of July, you can bet a bottle of ketchup is somewhere nearby. After all, this is a condiment born in America, right?
Well, no. At least, not unless you're talking strictly tomatoes — but we're getting ahead of ourselves.
Ketchup as we know it originated and evolved in far-flung locations, and as Americans discover these antecedent sauces, a bit of a renaissance is under way. It's becoming easier to find ketchups from all over the world at ethnic and gourmet groceries.
Banana ketchup from the Philippines, which looks like tomato ketchup but is a bit sweeter with definite hints of banana, and kecap manis, a sweetened soy sauce from Indonesia, are both available in Asian markets.
European groceries often carry curry ketchup, the essential ingredient in currywurst, a popular fast food in Berlin; and British import stores sometimes have mushroom ketchup, a thin liquid that has a wonderful full flavor and is excellent for making gravy or adding to soups or stews.
Another source of new ketchup excitement is the homemade option. Chefs who are no longer content to serve their gourmet burgers and fries with run-of-the-mill commercial brands have begun making their own ketchups. Some change the spices they use to suit popular tastes, like using chipotles or other smoky chiles.

The chef at Bluprint in Chicago concocted a Bloody Mary ketchup using horseradish, Tabasco and celery salt. Others use mangoes, cranberries or other fruits, moving away from the tomato entirely — which is taking a U-turn and heading back down the road that led to the ketchup we know and love today.
In its earliest days, ketchup was kecap, pronounced pretty much the same way, and it had nothing to do with tomatoes. The fermented soy sauce from Indonesia was introduced to Europe by Dutch explorers. Eventually, the British encountered it, and from there, the sauce began its metamorphosis into the ketchup we know today.
The British began making ketchup from kidney beans, walnuts and mushrooms during the 17th century. British colonists took those recipes with them to America, where the recipes continued to change. Early American cookbooks had recipes for many kinds of ketchup, including oyster, gooseberry and plum.
Then the condiment took a decidedly New World turn. A recipe for "tomata" sauce, which was very similar to ketchup, was printed in "A New System of Domestic Cookery" by Maria Rundell in 1807. Lydia Child declared that tomatoes made "the best sort of catsup" in her 1830 cookbook, "The Frugal Housewife."
The new formulation made sense for the new nation. After all, tomatoes are native to the Americas. They also grow prolifically, and cooking them with vinegar, sugar and spices was a way to preserve them for use during winter months. Instead of canned tomatoes, housewives often used ketchup to give tomato flavor to wintertime dishes like stews, gravies and braises.
Eventually, tomato canneries began using waste product from tomatoes to make ketchup based on home recipes, according to food historian Andrew Smith, the author of "Pure Ketchup" (University of South Carolina Press, 1996). Commercially made tomato ketchup could be sold so cheaply that it quickly replaced homemade ketchup and squeezed almost all other kinds of ketchup out of existence.
Today, on average, every American consumes just over 32 ounces of ketchup a year. And presumably, we wouldn't eat so much of it if it didn't taste so good. The ingredients used to preserve it — vinegar, sugar and salt — make it simultaneously sour, sweet and salty.
Tomatoes also provide a slight bitterness, and perhaps most importantly, they are rich in glutamate, the amino acid responsible for that mysterious fifth taste, umami. More simply put, ketchup tickles every one of our taste buds.
The thought of making ketchup at home never occurred to me until I discovered my mother-in-law in Australia makes her own using a family recipe that is continually tweaked to use new ingredients and to suit changing tastes. Making it is no easy task; she'll cook up to 18 pounds of tomatoes at once. But the results are worth every bit of time. Members of our extended family beg for bottles of her "tomato sauce," as ketchup is called Down Under.
Homemade ketchup is different from the store-bought kind; it's more of a brick color rather than fire-engine red. It also tastes different, because you can adjust the seasonings however you want.
If you like tangier ketchup, add a little more vinegar. Sweeter? Add more sugar, or experiment with different kinds of sugars. You can play with the spices and seasonings and develop your own signature ketchup.
There's certainly nothing wrong with using your favorite tried-and-true store brand this Fourth of July, but while tomatoes are in season, it's the perfect time to make your own ketchup to put on the picnic table. And if anyone asks why you went to all the trouble when there's perfectly acceptable ketchup at the store? Tell them you wanted to get into the spirit of the holiday and exercise your independence.


The Swedish consume the most ketchup per capita: 3.3 liters a year, three times as much as Americans. (Source: AC Nielsen)
Heinz introduced the plastic squeeze bottle for ketchup in 1983.
Collinsville, Ill., is home to the "World"s Largest Catsup Bottle" and celebrates the 170-foot structure with an annual festival. This year it"s July 12.
The Spanish pop group Las Ketchup "” sisters known for the 2006 hit "Aserejé" ("The Ketchup Song") "” is so named because its members" flamenco guitarist father was called "El Tomate."
W Ketchup was created in 2004 by Republicans as an alternative to Heinz, a small part of which is owned by John Kerry"s wife. (www.wketchup.com)
Alternative uses for ketchup include shining copper and removing chlorine green from hair. (www.thedailygreen.com)