WHEN I FIRST started working at Field Roast, we all had the same black T-shirt with the Field Roast logo on the front and the Merriam-Webster definition of the word meat on the back:
A: food; especially: solid food as distinguished from drink
B: the edible part of something as distinguished from its covering (as a husk or shell)
C: the part of something that can be eaten
D: the most important part
I realize that when most people hear the word meat, they think of the part of their meal that comes from an animal—and so, the idea of grain meat may initially seem odd. But hang tight: we’re onto something here. In crafting delicious meat from grains, we’re following in the footsteps of ancient culinary traditions that have been using grains as a staple in their diet for thousands of years. And for good reason: the outstanding nutritional properties and high protein content can’t be ignored.
For us, grains are the center of the plate and are the foundation of our sausages, burgers, and roasts. The process is simple and time-honored, and the ingredients are immune to fads or trends. In much the way that we’ve broadened our understanding of the word milk to include soy and nut milks, at Field Roast we’re excited about doing the same for meat. Because when you remove animal protein from your meals, you’re not left with an absence or a gap, you’re left with the opportunity to broaden your understanding of what meat is and what center-of-the-plate food can be.
One thing that excited me about Field Roast products from the very beginning is their simplicity. When I’m shopping for food, point of origin is a major consideration: Where did the product come from? Where was it made? What is it made from? When I think of most vegetarian meat products, this is pretty hard to imagine. Grain meat is different: we start with a simple wheat flour, so it’s easy to envision what it’s made from and where it began. It’s a process that can be done in the comfort of your own kitchen without industrial machines and without gums and binders, and one that I’m really looking forward to sharing with you.
When you hear the word vegan, what comes to mind? A militant lifestyle rife with kale, tahini, and social justice? You may imagine a pale, scrawny co-op employee enrobed in irony, and perhaps some polyester brown slacks fresh from the Goodwill. But the landscape is shifting, and now we talk about new ideas, bold flavors, clean eating, and good food! Eating vegan, or plant-based, doesn’t require you to change everything about yourself. It could be a couple of weeks a month, a couple of days a week, even a few meals here and there, or it could be every waking moment. Regardless of how often you are eating vegan, now is a wonderful time to do it.
My style of cooking and our philosophy at Field Roast is a departure from a lot of the vegan products and recipes you may already know. Rather than trying to mimic the flavor and texture of animal products, we craft recipes that set out to re-create the spirit of the dish, while showcasing the flavors of the plants it is made from. In other words, why work tirelessly to make a vegan sausage that tastes like pork when you could make one that tastes like what it’s actually made from: peppers, apples, and grains?
Grain meat has a rich culinary heritage beginning in China, when Buddhist monks created a method to produce a high-protein dough made from wheat that they called mien ching. What the monks found was that if you took a simple wheat flour dough, submerged it in a bowl of water, and kneaded it thoroughly, a physical change would begin to occur. The starches from the dough would begin to fall away, turning the water a milky white color and creating a firm and elastic dough. That process of washing the wheat made a dough that could contain up to 80 percent pure protein. At this point, the monks would steam or boil the dough, slice it, and cook it with sea vegetables, mushrooms, ginger, and broth. When Buddhism began its migration to other countries, the idea of this revolutionary grain meat traveled from China to Japan, where it became known under many different names and today is known as seitan.
This idea remained in the east until the 1800s, when Chinese and Japanese immigrants brought many of their traditional foods with them, including mien ching and seitan—and the process made its way through Europe and into the United States. The growth in popularity of seitan was slow, much of it remaining largely unknown to the broader culture until the natural foods movement of the 1970s.
Chef David Lee spent a time working with different kinds of vegetarian proteins and their application in everyday meals. Seitan and meat made from grains stuck out to him as a great satiating, center-of-the-plate choice that could serve as a vehicle for bold flavor. This grain meat had the makings of a food with the texture and tooth resistance needed for sausages, deli sandwiches, burgers, and roasts. David began tweaking and experimenting with the process, eventually incorporating many classic techniques essential to making charcuterie into his process. David found himself continuing to think about joining these two traditions—the ancient practice of making grain meat and the French culinary tradition of charcuterie—and the possibilities to create a brand new product felt endless. As the product improved, he began working it in to different food design products he was doing for local food makers and the product started to gain some buzz. With a growing demand, David continued to experiment with new ideas and started churning out exciting new products, and with that, Field Roast was born.
The Field Roast Grain Meat Company was founded in 1997 by David Lee and his brother Richard out of a real desire to see a different vegetarian product on store shelves. So many of the vegetarian protein products available then were made with soy and difficult-to-pronounce ingredients, or relied on dehydrated or previously frozen foods. So, they worked to bring their vegetarian loaves—made with grains, vegetables, and spices—to market, and found a home for them at a local Seattle co-op called PCC Natural Markets. The loaves took off and began popping up in national grocery chains.
As with most small businesses, it wasn’t easy growth—there were lots of kinks to work out, investors to sign on, and staff to streamline, but the late hours and determination started to pay off. Customers were excited to have a vegan option with ingredients you could feel good about eating.
In 2005, Field Roast launched its line of sausages—a big step for the company, as the other vegan sausages on the market were emulsified and spongy. But Field Roast used an entirely new method, working with the wheat grind, binding it, and tying it off using a classic charcuterie technique. These sausages were juicy and toothsome and appealed to a broader audience of grocery shoppers. Finally, Field Roast was catapulted into the mainstream and cemented as a leader in the vegan meat sector. Today, you can find Field Roast’s high-protein vegan meats and cheeses at a number of national grocery stores—everything from sausages to stuffed roasts, deli slices, frankfurters, FieldBurgers, and vegan Chao Cheese Slices. David is as closely involved today as he was in the 1990s, and Field Roast is even more of a family business with his sons Malcolm and Ian having hopped on board.
On a rainy day in November 1851, Arthur Denny landed at Alki Point with a group of family and friends. He was met at the shore by his brother David, who had traveled ahead of the group to scout out a place for a new settlement in the Pacific Northwest. David had spent the fall in a roofless cabin on Puget Sound, and was so defeated by the time the party reached the beach at Alki that the only greeting he could muster was, “I wish you hadn’t come.”
In Seattle we call that SAD (seasonal affective disorder), and it is real. One winter it rained for thirty-three days in a row: that’s enough to dampen anyone’s pioneering spirit. But what the Denny party learned, besides the fact that you should probably put a roof on your cabin, was that once May rolled around and the rain stopped, things were actually pretty nice in their little seaside village.
Since those early days, Seattle has seen periods of immense growth, providing the timber to build many West Coast cities in the 1800s, holding firm as a supply port for the Alaskan gold rush, and attracting innovators and industry pioneers to work for such companies as Microsoft, Boeing, Starbucks, and Amazon. Trade has driven Seattle’s growth, and has attracted people of all ethnicities and cultures to experience, work, and raise families here. And of course that means a rich diversity of music, history, art, and food.
I was born in Seattle in 1986 to a big, loving, and loud family. The best kind. Both my parents worked when I was a kid, so my siblings and I were always expected to help out around the house, and prepare our own meals. During the summers this was especially important as we had all those extra hours around the house that were usually spent at school. We did a pretty good job of keeping ourselves busy, and it was always made much easier when I was sent off to work out at “the Ranch,” my granny’s house.
Granny lives in the tiny town of Joyce, Washington, famous (to us) for their wild blackberries and idyllic summers. Joyce skirts up to the Strait of Juan de Fuca, a waterway that separates Washington State from Vancouver Island. During my summers there, I helped care for all the animals (cows, chickens, pigs, rabbits, cats, a goat named Fart, a duck, and her dogs), and learned how to clear brush, haul hay, and split and stack firewood.