Day 136: Today's Pick — Olympia Provisions Saucisson Sec

There was, for a long time, a thing where good American salami was kind of bad.

I mean this in a specific way. There were, of course, world-class small charcuterie producers in the United States — La Quercia in Iowa, Fra' Mani in California, a handful of others — but at the everyday-grocery level, "American salami" usually meant a soft, oily Genoa-style stick from a national brand that tasted vaguely of garlic and largely of fat. If you wanted a properly cured, properly fermented, properly good salami in 2007, you looked toward Italy or France, paid a premium, and accepted that your domestic options were, charitably, second-tier.

Then a guy in Portland named Elias Cairo opened a small charcuterie operation in a converted dry cleaner's, called it Olympia Provisions, and started air-curing salamis in the European style.

He did, frankly, an annoying thing: he started winning blind tastings against French and Italian saucissons. By 2012 his sticks were on the menus of every serious wine bar in the Pacific Northwest. By 2015 he was shipping nationally. The story, in some sense, is a Portland-tech-bro-redemption parable: a guy with too much patience and a wood-paneled curing chamber decided that the United States deserved better salami, and then proceeded to make better salami, on purpose, year after year.

The product I want to recommend, today, is the Saucisson Sec — Olympia's flagship French-style stick, air-cured for several weeks, peppered, hand-tied, and shipped in a chalky white mold-bloomed casing that you can either eat (it's harmless, slightly funky, my preference) or peel off (slightly more genteel, your call).

A few notes on what makes it special. The texture is dense without being chewy; you can shave it into thin disks with a sharp paring knife and the disks hold their shape for a board. The fat is generously distributed but never greasy — the cure has worked the moisture down to the right level. The seasoning is restrained: salt, black pepper, garlic, a small whisper of red wine. There are no industrial preservatives, no artificial nitrate boosters, and no dextrose-driven sweetness that you sometimes get in lower-end domestic salamis. It tastes, plainly and clearly, of pork, fat, salt, and time. That is what saucisson should taste like.

A short list of things I have done with this saucisson:

• Hosting cheat code. Cut a stick into disks. Put on a board. Add a wedge of comté, some cornichons, a small jar of grainy mustard, a baguette. You have made dinner for four and you have done so in roughly seven minutes.
• Sandwich. Three thin disks, a smear of butter, a baguette section, salt. Lunch.
• Salad. Slivered into ribbons over a bitter-greens salad with a sharp vinaigrette and shaved parmesan. Improbable. Excellent.
• Eat the whole stick standing in the kitchen. Not recommended. Inevitable.

A practical note on shipping. Olympia ships nationwide in small foam-cooled boxes. The salami arrives well — it's a shelf-stable cured product, so the cooler is precautionary rather than essential, but it means the casing arrives with its bloom intact and looking right. You can store an unopened stick in a cool dry place for a few weeks; once cut, wrap it in parchment (not plastic) and refrigerate, and it will keep for 7–10 days, though good luck.

Pricing. A single 8-oz Saucisson Sec runs around $18 in 2025. A multi-stick sampler is the move — Olympia offers a four- or six-stick variety that lets you compare the Saucisson Sec to the Saucisson d'Arles, the Loukanika (Greek-style), the Finocchiona (Tuscan-style), and the Cacciatore. All are good. The Saucisson Sec is the all-rounder; the Loukanika is the most surprising; the Cacciatore is the one that disappears first at any gathering I've hosted.

A small final note. Olympia is now also a small Portland restaurant chain — Olympia Provisions Northwest, Southeast, and the new spot downtown. If you live in Portland, or visit, eat there. The food, the wine list, and the room are all excellent. The salami plate is, predictably, a religious experience.

Buy a stick. Eat it slowly. Or don't.

Day 136. Today's pick is meat, salt, and time.