“Pink slime”. You may have heard the buzz about the use of this ammonia treated meat filler and the recent rejection of this product by major fast food chains including McDonald’s, Taco Bell and Burger King. We, for one, are happy to hear that this bubble gum colored meat paste of animal waste trimmings, connective tissues and fat will no longer grace the buns of drive-through burgers.
Once collected, the meat trimmings are sprayed with ammonium hydroxide to kill pathogens like salmonella and E. coli. According to MSNBC, ammonium hydroxide is a powerful chemical with the potential to turn into ammonium nitrate—a common component in household cleaners, fertilizers and homemade bombs. Sounds healthy?
Many members of the health and food community including microbiologists and food safety inspectors agree these “lean beef trimmings”, originally called “soylent pink”, are a high risk product and should not be confused with real meat. Fortunately, an ABC News investigation discovered just how much pink slime has infiltrated America’s meat industry.
Shockingly, up to 70% of the ground beef found in supermarkets across America contain the less than appetizing pink paste. And it doesn’t stop there. The USDA is purchasing 7 million pounds of the slime for school lunches as reported by The Daily.
Naturally, the USDA insists this unnatural and chemically treated tissue paste meets the highest standard for food safety and even argues its nutritional equivalence to ground beef. Fortunately, the public outcry against pink slime is bringing this problem into the forefront of the meat industry conversations, and hopefully our grocery stores and school cafeterias will safe from “pink slime” in the future.
Passanante’s is committed to providing our customers with natural, hormone-free, chemical-free, safe and delicious meats. Treat your family to the real deal, not pink slime. Give us a call today at 1-800-772-7786 to speak to a member of our team about eating better!
Pingback: Introducing “Tuna Scrape” | Passanante's Home Food Service