Croghan Bologna, a Northern New York Delicasy

The history of Croghan Bologna is fascinating, though not chiseled in stone. The origin of the peculiar meat is relatively unknown, besides Fred Hunziker, who brought it with him as an immigrant from Switzerland. Even then, the exact date remains unknown when considering several different sources. One thing for sure, however, is that the somewhat cross between bologna and sausage meats has been around in Northern New York for at least 136 years . . . and people keep coming back for more.

Fred was born on April 4, 1847, in Switzerland. The date of his arrival in the USA is unknown and further complicated by various sources of information. The Croghan Meat Market’s website, as well as the Lowville Journal and Republican, informs us that, in 1871, at 24, Hunziker arrived in Croghan, a small village northeast of Lowville in Lewis County. Fred opened a meat market soon thereafter and sold his meats to lumberjacks in the area where his brother John was a blacksmith.

The popularity of the meat slowly grew in the lumberjack camps over the next decade and a half. By 1888, it was referred to as Croghan Bologna, after the village where it was made. It is this date for which the meat was “officially” established . . . by name, at least, despite having been made for presumably seventeen years in the area.

Of course, the recipe has existed far longer. Other articles, such as the Randy McMullen column dated August 19, 1980, in the Watertown Daily Times, cite 1894 as the year Hunziker first produced the meet. A February 15, 1994, Journal and Republican credits 1888 but states, “When a Swiss immigrant, Fred Hunziker, brought a smoked beef recipe with him to Northern New York,” which implies he arrived 17 years later than other sources.

Nevertheless, Fred’s Croghan Bologna’s success was apparently void of any advertising other than word of mouth—as such, it remained something of a local secret. Fortunately, Ralph Van Arnam, the Journal and Republican’s Beaver Falls correspondent, was able to provide a glimpse at both the man and the times in his September 6, 1951 article—

Mr. Hunziker died in 1938 at the age of 91. I remember his familiar horse drawn cart as it looked when I was a kid 40 plus years ago. The small black cart with red wheels was drawn through the dusty streets by patient, plodding nag. It was followed by most of the mutts and many of the kids in town.

Old Fritz wore a battered felt hat, sweater, long white apron reaching to his feet, and wicker cuffs over his sleeves. He had a handle bar moustache, and always the stub of a cigar hung in the corner of his mouth. In short, he looked like the typical 19th century butcher that he was. Maybe the apron was not always any too white, and maybe the flies were thick. We were more used to flies in those days; at least we tolerated the filthy things. Flies had a better living before the days of modern sanitation and the passing of the horse.

Beneath Mr. Hunziker’s apron and gruff mien there beat a warm heart, at least as far as kids were concerned. He always gave me a chunk of bologna about one quarter the size of the smaller rings now sold in Croghan. And I was not the only kid either. The mutts followed the cart for the smell, I guess, though they, too, got a handout now and then. I estimate that the free bologna I got in a summer, at today’s meat prices, would just about make the down payment on a car. Maybe this was a less sophisticated, slightly kinder age. Whoever dreamed of the concentration camp in those days?

In 1919, thirty-one-year-old Elmer “Buddy” Campany married Jessie Bush and purchased the business from Fred Hunziker, who was 72 and ready to retire. A few years later, the building was also purchased. Business and limited distribution continued without much press and no advertising until 1933. Interestingly enough, Elmber Campany wasn’t the first to do it—rather, another area competitor in the August 25 edition of the Watertown Daily Times—

Now is the time to send in your order for our home made Croghan Bologna, made daily in the Beaver Falls market; also our home cured Hams and Bacon, the kind you have been looking for and the taste you never forget. When passing stop in and receive a sample of our famous Bologna. Your orders will receive our prompt attention. We sell wholesale and retail. Beaver Falls Market, Beaver Falls, N.Y.—Adv. 

The advertisement for “Croghan Bologna” made in Beaver Falls (apparently Beaver Bologna didn’t sound as appetizing!) prompted Campany to counter-advertise in the September 5th edition of The Times—

The Original Genuine – Famous Croghan Bologna as made from Mr. Fred Hunkizker’s formula brought direct from Germany by him (sic) can be purchased or ordered only at the Campany Market, Croghan, N.Y.

Notice—The recipe for this delicious tasty meat delicacy has never been out of this market and as far as is known is the only one of its kind in this vicinity.Elmer Campany, Croghan, N.Y.

With other area manufacturers cashing in on his Croghan Bologna name, Campany filed a trademark and advertised it in June 1934. It read—

Look for this tag when you buy Croghan Bologna. This delicious meat delicacy is made exclusively and only at the Campany Market, Croghan, N.Y. Don’t be misled by imitations. The original production has the above tag on every ring. Insist on it to be sure of the genuine.

Fred passed away in 1938 at the age of 91. His wife, Louise Schneeberger Hunziker, who was also from Switzerland but moved here in 1882 and whom he married on Christmas Day 1883, following in 1945 at the age of 80.

The business continued under Elmer Campany until his retirement in 1951. At that time, the business and trademark transferred to sons Anthony “Butch” and John “Gilly” Campany, along with Hunziker’s nephew and adopted son, Carl Nuspliger. During these years, many changes occurred, most notably the incorporation of the business in 1963. that same year, an enclosed smokehouse was added. Six years prior, a slaughterhouse was added to the back of the meat market. Elmer lived to see these, having passed shortly afterward in 1966. A year later, Carl retired from the business, selling his shares to Anthony and John.

In 1978, the Watertown Daily Times covered the continuing growth and popularity of the Croghan Meat Market and its bologna in their Farm & Garden July 1 edition. When the brothers took over the business, they made about 300 pounds of bologna a week. At the time of the article’s publishing, the number was closer to 4,500 pounds—over two tons.

The firm now processes about five or six bulls each week. A good-sized animal averages about 1,800 pounds alive, but only about 1,000 pounds end up as bologna.

Former co-owner Carl Nuspliger, a nephew of the bologna originator, Fred Hunziker, and now retired, still comes in for a cup of coffee most days and checks to see how things are going.

The following decade saw more changes, including the requirement for the meat market to be USDA inspected. Carl passed away in 1983, and mail order was introduced, with more than 500 Christmas packages sent out in 1984 and hoped for 750 in 1985 as printed in the Carthage/Lowville Times edition on November 12, 1985. The article also discussed how, after the slaughter, the beef is twice-grinded and combined with ingredients such as pork, cereal, seasoning, and water. From there—

The bologna mixture is next put into a stuffing machine which pushes the product into the casings and staples them closed. The bologna is placed in a smokehouse for three hours and taken out and put in a 180-degree cooker, where hot water takes off the grease. Cold water is later run over the product to shrink the casing.

Depending on the source, Anthony retired in 1986 or 1987 and sold his share to his brother John, who continued into semi-retirement in 1995. The business would remain in the family, with John selling it to his son John Michael Campany that year before passing away on August 18, having continued working part-time until his death. By this point, John Michael had been manufacturing the meat since he was 14 years old in 1969. John’s brother Anthony would live for another 15 years, passing in 2010.

The Croghan Meat Market continued to undergo changes soon thereafter, with over $100,000 in improvements necessitating the stores closer for three months in 1996. Six years later, HACCP regulations—Hazard Analysis and Critical Control Points—required more updates to meet requirements for food safety from biological, chemical, physical, and radiological hazards in production processes.

In recent years, the Croghan Meat Market has seen the fourth generation of the Campany family lead the way, as John Michael and Charmaine Virkler Campany’s daughter Blaine continues the tradition. The business celebrated its 135th year in 2023, having created some new favorites in the last several years, including jalapeno cheddar Croghan Bologna.

On two final notes, while researching this, if there was ever a sign of goodness in one’s accomplishments, it’s to be remembered in one’s obituary as a favorite in life, and “Croghan Bologna” was mentioned countless times as such. Secondly, much like The New Parrot Restaurant in Watertown, you know you’ve made it when your business has been immortalized in a novel by Frederick Exley. Below are his mentions of Croghan Bologna in his last novel, Last Notes From Home—

Wiley had been in the island fifteen years, and the old lady had cut the wheel in half and wrapped its separate pieces in aluminum foil as she felt it might remind Wiley of home. For the two of them she’d brought along some Croghan (another eye-blinking village in the area) bologna, which is shaped more like a sausage than the supermarket variety we upstate vulgarians call (use your imagination!).

Croghan bologna is terribily rich, terribly spicy, and terribly delicious. Both of these products are superb with saltines, horseradish, hot mustard, and a case of Molson’s Canadian ale, lolling around with the guys watching Sunday football. Touched, and though I knew Wiley would appreciate the gifts immensely, I’d heard enough about the Brigadier’s condition to know his cancer-ridden peritoneum wouldn’t be holding down any cheddar, least of all that spicy and mouthwatering Croghan bologna.