Imagine a football stadium filled with cheering fans, but instead of players on the field, there’s a masterpiece made entirely of pork. Sounds bizarre? Well, that’s exactly what happened in Philadelphia, where a pork sculpture inspired by the Eagles’ iconic ‘tush push’ play stole the show at the city’s scrapple-shaping contest. But here’s where it gets even more intriguing: this wasn’t just any art competition—it was a celebration of scrapple, a divisive yet beloved breakfast meat with deep roots in Pennsylvania’s history.
On Friday, tattoo artist Patrick Moser from Norristown clinched the top prize at the Scrapple & Apple Festival’s lighthearted art contest. His creation, dubbed the ‘Mush Push,’ paid homage to the Philadelphia Eagles’ trademark short-yardage play, blending sports fandom with culinary creativity. The event, held at Reading Terminal Market, challenged 12 contestants to transform 5 pounds of scrapple into art within 90 minutes. Armed with sculpting tools and a dash of ingenuity, Moser’s piece impressed even the ‘expert judge,’ Sasha Suda, CEO of the Philadelphia Museum of Art.
Moser described his work as a fusion of ‘Caravaggio meets Siriani,’ merging the dramatic style of the Baroque painter with the strategic brilliance of Eagles’ head coach Nick Siriani. And this is the part most people miss: the ‘tush push,’ also known as the ‘brotherly shove,’ is a play so effective that even reigning NFL champions struggle to counter it. But what does this have to do with scrapple? Everything, as it turns out.
Scrapple, often the punchline of jokes, is a porcine delicacy with a rich history. Popular among German families who settled in eastern Pennsylvania during the colonial era, it’s a labor of love that takes hours to prepare. Marlin Dietrich, owner of Dietrich’s Meats & Country Store in Krumsville, sells 300 pounds of it weekly. His recipe? Boil beef and pork bones, season with salt, pepper, and coriander, thicken with buckwheat flour and roasted cornmeal, then fry until crispy. He pairs it with apple butter, another Pennsylvania Dutch staple, and enjoys it for breakfast—though he admits, ‘Making a sculpture? That’s a shame.’
Moser’s win earned him a trophy and a $100 gift card, but the real prize was the public’s reaction. The sculptures were displayed for voting on Saturday, following last year’s winner: a cookie jar adorned with a rooster and an egg. Yet, the festival didn’t stop at art. It showcased scrapple’s versatility with culinary delights like scrapple fries, andouille scrapple breakfast sandwiches, scrapple apple cookies, and even a scrapple cheesesteak.
But here’s the controversial question: Is scrapple a culinary treasure or an acquired taste? While some celebrate its hearty flavor and historical significance, others cringe at its texture or ingredients. What’s your take? Love it or hate it, scrapple’s place in Pennsylvania’s culture is undeniable—and its transformation into art proves it’s more than just a breakfast meat. Let us know in the comments: Would you try a scrapple sculpture, or do you prefer it on your plate?
