Flavor of the month: Turkey

Today's discussion centers on turkey. But I'm not talking about Thanksgiving or anything that involves real, actual turkey.

I'm talking about the kind of turkey that you put on a sandwich, turkey that can be folded twice without coming apart, that slimy, ovalish, stretchable conglomerate appropriately placed next to the hot dogs at the grocery store.

Just because the package says "Turkey" does that make it turkey?

It reminds me of those disgusting strawberry candies. The thing I remember about them is that they taste nothing like a strawberry despite them trying to somehow fool you with the cellophane made to look like a strawberry. Like strawberry Jolly Ranchers, what they actually taste like is a distinct synthetic candy flavor labeled Strawberry.

Same goes for grape gum. When someone pops in a piece of grape Bubble Yum, they're after that artificial taste we now associated with grapes. Instead of calling the flavor Grape, they should have made up an entirely made-up name, as it is an entirely made-up flavor. Something like Grandoliciousness.

Of course they have to call it Grape in order to better associate it with food, hiding the fact that you are actually chewing on artificially flavored edible rubber that allegedly tastes like fruit.

Which gets back to turkey. Do turkey cold cuts taste anything like real, actual turkey?

No. They taste like . . . turkey cold cuts, a unique flavor that we have associated with a bird initially made famous by Pilgrims. Real turkey is eaten once, maybe twice a year, not everyday between slices of white bread.

I've never thought much about comparing real turkey to turkey cold cuts. But if you compare the taste of a Thanksgiving turkey and compare it to your typical turkey lunch meat, the two taste nothing alike.

The distinction became more clear when I noticed a new product at the grocery store. In the midst of the bright yellow and blue cardboard and plastic packaging of various flavors of artificially-shaped ham and baloney, a rectangular cardboard box – left predominantly in its natural cardboard color – caught my eye. Naturally, the product is called Natural Choice Oven Roasted Deli Turkey by Hormel.

Beside the name on the front is the word NEW printed on a leaf as well as the words ALL NATURAL INGREDIENTS** and NO PRESERVATIVES.

On the back are bullet points, differentiating further how the product is better than your run-of-the-mill cold cut. They are:

• No Nitrate or Nitrite added
• Minimally Processed
• No Artificial Ingredients
• Gluten Free
• No MSG Added

Is this what it has come to? Has No Nitrite really become a selling point for food? How did we get to the point where all the sandwich meat is packed with Gluten, MSG and Artificial Ingredients . . . except for one? Makes you wonder what else is in all that other turkey.

And why must I now pay more for lunch meat that is Minimally Processed instead of Overly Processed?

Surprisingly, Hormel's Natural Choice actually tastes like real turkey. And instead of the rubbery ovals of "turkey" you find elsewhere, this turkey flakes and tears like you would expect turkey to do.

But the fact that I am amazed because there's a package proclaiming Turkey that contains actual turkey is somewhat of an eye-opener.