Already, 2013 has been an impressive year for Corridor Sausage. The artisan sausage company has found a rhythm in their new Eastern Market facility, they’ve launched The Grindhouse food truck, and thanks to USDA approval, they’re about to start selling to retail outlets.

So it seems like this is the time to take the region by storm.

Corridor co-founder Will Branch agrees. “If it isn’t, I probably have a bankruptcy and a divorce in my future,” he says with a hearty laugh. He’s kidding (sort of), but after a long three and a half years of strenuous work, he and partner Zak Alexander seem poised to truly reap the fruits of their labor.

The journey began in 2009 when Branch and Alexander were cooking together at a southeast Michigan restaurant. Neither wanted to open their own eatery, but both were excited at the prospect of something beyond working the line. “If I wasn’t going to law school and I was going to cook, it wasn’t to work for someone else for the rest of my life,” Branch says. “It’s about ‘what am I going to create?’”

Branch had grown up as a routine visitor to metro Detroit’s ethnic butchers, and Alexander had worked on a charcuterie program at Novi-based Steve & Rocky’s prior to their meeting. So the notion of starting a sausage business emerged quickly. “Planning a sausage or charcuterie shop is something every cook or chef talks about at 2am after too much Jameson and Guinness,” Branch jokes.

Wasting little time, they organized a meeting with some potential investors, a restaurant group looking to put a few businesses into a Midtown, Detroit-based development.

“That’s where we started to get attached to the space in the Cass Corridor,” Branch notes. Schoolcraft College generously granted them one-time use of their space and equipment to put together a product tasting, and though it went well and lease negotiations proceeded swiftly, the project eventually stalled. “We branded as Corridor Sausage and thought it was a done deal,” he continues, “And you could say, ‘Oh man, that didn’t come through, we’re bitter about it,’ but we’re not. Those people were all so, so helpful.”

The duo, unfazed, took a flexible approach, looking for any entry point to the marketplace.

They acquired rental space in Howell, got licensed, and started making sausage just seven or eight hours a week. For a full year, they made sausage to order, serving clients like Woodbridge Pub and Jolly Pumpkin. That slow ascent allowed them to perfect their process, eventually making about 500 pounds of sausage in just their eight hour kitchen stint, which opened the door to farmer’s markets.

Jolly Pumpkin’s first order, which they made on Labor Day, 2009, still stands as a memorable moment. They had to produce 250 pounds, and they weren’t yet operational in Howell. So they borrowed restaurant space in Detroit with coolers in the basement, grinders on the fourth floor, and stuffers on the first floor. Branch’s exhaustion is evident in his voice, even years later.

But looking back, he couldn’t be happier. “Pretty much, [the Jolly Pumpkin] order financed our company,” he contends. “Instead of going out of pocket, we had something sitting in our bank account we could parlay into success.” And he still remembers what they put together that day – Vietnamese chicken, lamb merguez, apple and sage pork, and Moroccan lamb with fig.

In summer of 2012, they moved into their new production facility in Eastern Market, a space at the corner of Division and Orleans – perhaps best known to Market goers as the Marry Me Tizzie building. With the new space came new equipment as well, including a vacuum stuffer than apportions the ground meat into their desired quantity. For all its obvious advantages, that brought a series of headaches all its own.

Branch explains: “That first month in the new space sucked. It was awful. It was new equipment, it was an enormous space compared to what we were used to. So everything took longer…. Eight months ago, a fuse blew on our stuffer. Now we know how to fix it and what to look for, but at the time… I didn’t know.” After wading through circuit boards and wires, they got the machine repaired – and now they’re capable of producing thousands of pounds per week.

In outlining that production process, Branch and Alexander humbly reveal the level of quality to which they aspire.

On Mondays, their sole task is preparing the ingredients to mix into the meat – chopping fresh herbs, mincing fresh garlic, weighing spices and figs, and prepping sauces. There are no bagged mixes, no pre-assembled products that go into their sausage. Tuesday, I watched them halve chunks of lamb and unpack ethically raised pork to head into the grinder. After grinding, they mix with their prepped ingredients and stuff into natural casings. And finally, on Wednesday, they package and freeze the meat.

USDA certification represents the next evolution: For Corridor, the rules will preclude any possibility of working with the same protein on the same day. Thus, different meats will get moved to different days of the week, meaning their production schedule must expand. “Right now, we typically make four to six varieties, 600 to 800 pounds [on that Tuesday],” Branch says. “We’ll have to shift our production model to maybe 1,000 to 1,500 pounds in a day, but that’s maybe only two varieties.”

If it seems like a lot of effort, that’s because it is. As finely honed as their process is, it still takes hours of focused effort to achieve. After all this time, Branch still enjoys talking about it. And when I ask what makes his sausage different, he laughs, “It’s the love. The secret ingredient.”

Earnestly, he continues, “No, it’s the quality and the care we put into it. The freshness of the meats.  A lot of it is the recipes, the flavor that comes through you won’t get anywhere else.”

Early on, Corridor routinely extended their business to regional catering. Indeed, Branch credits a spike in their initial Eastern Market business to a large event at Cloverleaf Fine Wine in Royal Oak. But as their business has grown, they’ve invested in their food truck – The Grindhouse – and in doing more charity events in town.

“[Last fall], we got to do a catered charity event which may be the thing I was most proud of,” Branch says. “At the Downtown Youth Detroit Boxing Gym, Rock Financial walked into the building with a check for $15,000. Catering has taken a step back to a point where we can do charity stuff.” They continue to work with Dave Mancini of Supino Pizzeria on efforts for the Gym, and last summer, Branch participated in the Next Urban Chef, a program that supports food education initiatives in the city.

While Branch contends they don’t want to overreach, he acknowledges that they’re primed for significant business growth. The USDA label will allow them to sell to local markets as well as take advantage of contacts across the western half of the state and the entire Midwest, building upon existing restaurant clientele in Cleveland and possibly Chicago.

So what comes next? Alexander showed me their new charcuterie cooler, which is in place though not fully built out. Within weeks, they should be hanging salumi and growing their cured meat portfolio. After, Branch says, “the next step will be provisions, like mustards.”

I pressed Branch a bit more about if all the work was worth it and if he’s still genuinely glad that he and Alexander chose to pursue sausage. He chuckled, and offered a sentiment that’s impossible to argue against: “Sausage is delicious. It’s delicious.”

From my perspective, the first (hopefully of many) iteration, held last night, Sunday, March 18, seemed to go pretty well.

Putnam was pouring a solid kolsch-style beer on draft as well as serving the always delicious Kapuziner Weisse and three different German wines. (For what it’s worth, I think Kapuziner is easily one of the best wheat beers in the world; it has that marvelous banana/clove aroma without the same estery flavor and sweetness. It finishes dry despite the aroma, and it’s one of the few wheat beers that I find “sessionable” as a result.)

All of the food was good – I’m pretty sure we tried everything on the menu except the charcuterie plate – though as I recall the sausage and pretzel were the universal favorites among our crowd. Porktown really has their knackwurst formula down to a science, it seems – perfect flavor, perfect texture – and Putnam’s pretzel is a can’t miss item, especially with a dollop of their mildly spicy homemade mustard. The meal ended with a pleasant surprise: Molly O’Meara from Beau Bien made an apple strudel. Not too sweet and surprisingly light, which struck me just right on a day that closed in on 75 or 80 degrees.

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Sunday: On Which Meat Becomes Thy Watchword

There’s no more rousing start to one’s day than an hour-long panel on relational databases. Except, I suppose, caffeine in the form of excellent coffee. I chose to merge the two, starting with the former and ending with the latter.  One of Austin’s many street side carts is Patika Coffee, which features roasted beans from Texas’ own Cuvee Coffee Roasting Company.

I thought their El Salvador single origin brew was remarkable on two levels: It was only $1.75 for a 12-ounce cup and it just smacked me across the face with cocoa flavors. I have no idea what experienced coffee tasters would describe with this brew, but this particular cup, to me, was rife with caramel and chocolate flavors with minimal bitterness. There was a fruitiness to it, but to me, it played second fiddle to this overwhelmingly powerful cocoa flavor. What a treat after walking past two or three Starbucks with lines to find a quick cup of coffee that was exceptionally good.

After more panels and discussions — including one about Detroit featuring several well-known local activists and artists (we’re everywhere, apparently) — it was time for a late lunch, and my colleagues Lara and Rachel and I decided it was time to try some BBQ. So we headed a few blocks north to a tiny cart operated by “the Simms brothers.” The others in my party had a couple of sandwiches, but I opted for the full-sized two meat meal plate consisting of ribs, brisket, potato salad with pickles, beans, and a couple of slices of the cheapest semi-local white bread money can buy. I’m far from a BBQ expert, but I make some damn tasty spareribs and really solid pulled pork in my estimation, and the stuff here was top notch: The brisket was tender and buttery, and the spareribs were remarkably moist. The sauce wasn’t as vinegary as a Carolina-style sauce, but I was a bit surprised to find a bit of tang in there. That’s the not the perception I had coming from Michigan.

Then, 3:30-6pm… Time for more panels and sessions.

Afterwards, I elected to catch up on sporting news — most importantly, a nice seed in the NCAA tourney for Michigan — before meeting up with colleagues Lara and Patti for a meal at Frank, an Austin artisan hot dog joint. I had the most amazing sausage, which they call the Jackelope, a medley of antelope, rabbit, pork, and sage, topped with a huckleberry compote and smoked cheddar.

I finished off the evening back at Haddington’s, part of my absurdly long, alcohol-fueled first night in Austin. It was a much less intense evening this time around, though I tried a few new drinks, including a frothy egg white drink based on rum, chartreuse, orgeat, lime, and Peychaud’s called the “Dover to Calais,” which was absolutely excellent.

Another rock star caliber day. I even had a few random, interesting, even inspiring conversations with other attendees along the way. Though sadly, unlike some other SXSW participants, I have not run into Eliza Dushku or Jake Gyllenhall or Conan, though I will say that I did attend a moderator-led discussion with Paul Reubens today that was informational, touching, and hilarious. Still, as much as I loved that, and no matter who I might have seen, I think the highlight was always destined to be the BBQ.

Can anyone blame me?