Texan 'sausage sensei' says his snags are 'consumable art'

If you've ever wanted to craft the perfect sausage, Texan Bill Dumas could make your dreams come true.

Known as the Sausage Sensei, Dumas is on his second visit to New Zealand for two sausage-making workshops.

And while sausages are a beloved barbeque staple in many parts of the world, for Dumas, they're much, much more.

"Salvador Dali, the surrealist artist said that an exceptional artist must be able to take the most mundane objects and create something truly exceptional. I think of this as art, consumable art," Dumas says.

His sausages certainly back that statement up. While in New Zealand, he's created two types of sausage to appeal to Kiwi tastebuds. The first features green-lipped mussels combined with pork, bacon, white wine seasoning and galangal and lemongrass. The second is a re-interpretation of the classic meat pie - pastry and all.

"We wanted to do something that just screamed New Zealand. With my sausages, they're not just like a regular snag, you know. Like the Aussies say, it ain't a Bunnings snag, right?" he says with a laugh.

And while jokes come easily to the laidback Texan, he's serious about preserving the culinary traditions of the Lone Star state.

"Barbecue's kind of pivotal. It has quite a bit of cultural significance."

Dumas explains the Texan style generally uses very simple seasoning.

"A brisket, nine times out of 10, just salt and pepper. That's it. Salt, pepper, times smoked. Pork ribs traditionally would be the same way. When you start getting into sauces and glazes, now we're talking about Kansas City, Missouri, the Carolinas. That's not Texas."

According to Dumas, that simple style of barbequing was heavily influenced by the mid-19th century arrival of Bohemian and Bavarian immigrants in Texas.

"One of the key things in German charcuterie and butchery is Wurst. Sausage."

The hot climate meant smoking and sausage making became important both for cooking and as a means of meat preservation. That led to the development of the archetypal Texan sausage, the hot gut.

"It's a 100 percent beef-based sausage, very coarsely ground, salt, a good copious amount of black pepper, a hint of garlic, and red chili pepper."

Whether it's a Texas hot gut, or confit duck, here's a a lot of thought and technique that goes into creating a the perfect banger. The texture of the grind must be right.

"It really depends upon application versus the type of protein versus personal preference." Dumas says.

"I reckon there's really no rules, except to say that the coarser the grind the more difficult it will be to retain that tight compact inner."

Fat content also plays an important part. Dumas says generally 70 percent protein to 30 percent fat is used, but 60 to 50, and 50-50 are also used in some sausages.

Dumas prefers to use a natural casing for his sausages, despite collagen becoming a common alternative.

"I reckon you don't get really good colour retention or snap on the casing, and it doesn't eat as well as a natural casing," he says.

"I like to use hog casings, which are like Goldilocks and the Three Bears in respect to size."

Dumas says his love for making food started when he was a child, spending time with his grandfather, who had developed his barbequing skills while working as a cowhand on ranches.

"As a matter of necessity, those guys knew how to cook out on the open range and rather very well."

In his later years, Dumas' grandfather had a business cooking and selling chicken.

"Having the meat, the fat, dripping on the hot coals and ssssssssss, coming back up on those chickens was really good. So he would put me to work, hauling wood, cleaning ash cans, do this, do that, and it just imprinted itself on me."

And while he's been involved with sausage production for 15 years, he didn't start running classes until an Italian chef suggested it during the Covid-19 pandemic.

"I was booked every single Saturday or Sunday for four, five years, unless I was on the road," he says.

Since then, Dumas has taken his sausage making expertise to six countries, grateful to spread his knowledge internationally.

"I've had a lot of jobs that I don't really like. I'm a Marine Corps veteran. I've been an industrial refrigeration technician. I've driven 18-wheeler semi-trucks, cross-country. None of those things have ever spoken to me quite in the same manner as the barbecue universe.

"I reckon it really does go back to my grandfather and those roots."