Kevin Riordan: A hit in Iraq, family's jerky ready for a wider audience
The recipe for Jim's Jarhead Jerky is hush-hush, but the patriotism packed into every pound of this distinctive dried beef snack is no secret.
The recipe for Jim's Jarhead Jerky is hush-hush, but the patriotism packed into every pound of this distinctive dried beef snack is no secret.
Jim Ewen and his wife, Joette, started making and shipping beef jerky to frontline American troops in 2009 after their son-in-law, Tim Missel, shared his care package with fellow Marines in Iraq.
"Everybody wanted more . . . even guys who didn't like beef jerky," recalls Tim, now 24 and home safe in Medford. "Sometimes it served as two or three meals in a row for me . . . rather than the MREs," or meals ready to eat.
"I like to cook as a hobby, but I had never done jerky, so I started trial and error," explains Jim, a 57-year-old transportation company executive and a Marine Corps veteran. "I have my own blend of spices I've conjured up."
So compelling is the taste of Jim's beef jerky - a neophyte columnist finds it irresistible - that a commercial version made by the Rastelli Foods Group is hitting the market.
"Folks come in left and right with [their own] beef jerky," says Richard Goodman, a director at the Swedesboro company. "But when we tasted Jim's, we had no doubt it would be successful."
As the company begins to distribute red-and-yellow bags of Jim's Jarhead Jerky in local stores, Jim and Joette will continue to prepare and donate special batches for the military.
They connect with recipients through support groups, such as Moms 4 Marines and the Yellow Ribbon Club of Marlton.
Their testimonial-packed website brings lots of requests, too.
"We really want to get Jim's Jarhead Jerky to the troops in harm's way," Joette says. "Some of them are living in horrible conditions. They're struggling."
So far the Ewens have made about 2,500 pounds of jerky in their kitchen, where refrigerated tubs of sliced brisket or sirloin marinate in Jim's special blend, and two dehydrators stand ready.
"Ten to 12 hours at 160 degrees" will transform a marinated slice into a compact, explosively flavorful strand, Jim explains.
Most of the beef has been donated by the Original Philadelphia Cheesesteak Co., one of a number of businesses, organizations, and individuals who have helped the Ewens give men and women in uniform a taste of home.
For instance, before they bought the dehydrators, the Ewens dried jerky at La Bella Pizza in Medford. The shop is owned by their friend Dominick Evola; his son, whom everyone calls "Little Dom," is also a Marine.
A personable pair who have been married for 31 years, the Ewens arrange the production schedule around their full-time jobs. Most mornings, Jim gets up and makes jerky from 3 until 7.
"It's a labor of love," says Joette, 57, who owns a marketing company. "He's the master chef, and I'm the sous chef. Jim has the motivation, and we all follow his lead."
She and her husband came by their patriotism early, Jim in Connecticut, Joette in New York. Both of their fathers served in World War II.
The couple have been long involved in their community. They're good citizens, in other words.
But Jim suffered a massive heart attack five years ago. And two years ago, Missel - who's married to their only child, Samantha - was deployed to Iraq.
Consumed with worry, "we had to do something," Joette says. "We found something good."
Needless to say they're excited about their product's commercial possibilities. But it's not why they started making beef jerky, and they have no plans to stop.
"We're not making enough," Joette says. "We don't have the facilities here to make enough."
Besides love of country, there's another special ingredient in the special batches of Jim's Jarhead Jerky that a man or woman in uniform will be opening.
"A prayer goes into each one of them," Jim says.
"Please," says Joette. "Come home."