Ernie Edwards, the longtime proprietor of the Pig Hip Restaurant along Route 66 in Broadwell, Ill., had long claimed that the sauce he used for his Pig Hip ham sandwiches would go with him to the grave.
With Edwards’ death last week, that appeared to be the case. Or does it?
Phil Luciano, a columnist for the Peoria Journal-Star, gives hope that the “peppery, tangy orange-colored” sauce may not be lost to posterity after all:
“He actually didn’t take it with him,” says stepdaughter Suzanne Cale of Lincoln.
When the Edwardses went into the nursing home, Cale helped pack her mother’s belongings. In a cookbook, Cale found a card with a recipe typed by her mother.
The secret sauce!
I asked if she would be willing to share the recipe. She’ll ask the family this week and get back to me.
“I don’t know why anyone would mind,” she says.
The sauce would make for a lasting tribute to Edwards – maybe even as a fundraiser for Route 66 preservation. It makes sense: I can still see Edwards, chef’s hat riding high, in the entry of the Pig-Hip, eyes twinkling at the old motor route out front.
“This,” he’d say with a smile, “is Main Street of the world here.”
Luciano pointed out that Edwards often told a lot of tall tales while entertaining Route 66 travelers. So this claim of a secret sauce might have simply been a way to add some mystique to the restaurant and the Mother Road.
Marian Clark’s “The Route 66 Cookbook” says this recipe isn’t Ernie’s, but “the next best thing.” From a scan of the book on Google:
Chill a stainless steel mix bowl untl very cold. Take 1 large egg and using an electric mixer, beat egg thoroughly. While continuing to beat, slowly add 3 cups of good quality vegetable oil and 7 oz of Heinz catsup. To this, add 2 oz of Worcestershire sauce, 1/2 C sugar and a pinch of salt . Server over thinly sliced ham. Makes 1 quart.
If Luciano indeed is able to track down the recipe, it’ll be interesting to see how it compares.