The 1970s protein alternatives that went beyond meat

Canadian food scientists in the early '70s used peas and beans to develop protein-rich "meat analogues" during a period of rising meat prices.

Food scientists processed peas and beans into substitutes for the real thing

Guelph scientists develop 'meat analogue'

52 years ago
Duration 1:48
Vegetable proteins are explored as subtitutions for meat in 1973.

Canadians who were looking for an alternative to meat in the early '70s had reason for hope.

"The substitute is known as a meat analogue," explained CBC reporter Peter Trueman as the camera showed scientists at a Guelph, Ont., food lab.

They were trying to find a way to make a palatable product out of vegetable protein "that looks, smells, and tastes like the real thing."

The lab's John De Man conceded that once perfected, the substitute wouldn't be identical to meat. But it would be close. 

"It'll be really comparable to the difference between butter and margarine," he said.  

As of April 1973, the lab had identified three likely sources for making plant-based, meatless protein: canola (then known in Canada as rapeseed), sunflower seeds, and soybeans.

"It is quite possible now to produce meat substitutes which smell and taste exactly like meat," De Man added.

But Trueman seemed skeptical.

"Not everyone agrees that hamburger made from beans and seeds will ever replace the real thing," he said. "But it wasn't very long ago that the idea of artificial butter was far-fetched too."

'Exciting new development'

'It almost tastes like the real thing'

52 years ago
Duration 1:16
Food scientists in Saskatoon develop a protein-rich "meat analogue" that could solve the world food crisis in 1972.

Several months earlier, in September 1972, food scientists in Saskatoon had managed to produce a meal out of vegetable protein derived from peas.

"Using a simple milling process, the raw peas are separated into starch and protein concentrate," said the unidentified reporter as the camera showed a scientist in the lab.

Laminated sheets of the protein were then bonded together.

By adding water, the products could be reconstituted, shaped, and flavoured to resemble meat.

A Saskatoon lab pressed pea protein into sheets that could then be made into a patty or any other shape resembling meat. (CBC News/CBC Archives)

"And it almost tastes like the real thing," added the reporter, as the scientist was seen sampling his work.

 The ultimate goal was to develop a low-cost, high-protein food that could combat malnutrition in regions around the world.

And it had other applications, too.

"Animal feeds," said Dr. Clare Young. "In the swine, poultry, pet foods — this is a very large potential market."

The reporter made himself a willing test subject by sitting down to a lunch where everything — meat, bread, even the milkshakes — had been made with pea concentrate.

"It may not measure up to French cuisine," he said, "But as long as malnutrition continues to be a major problem in many parts of the world, the use of vegetable protein concentrate as a meat analogue is an exciting new development."

Not quite meatless burgers

'Thrifty burger' cuts meat, adds soybeans

52 years ago
Duration 1:23
A Toronto butcher has a recipe for a cheaper hamburger during a spike in meat prices.

If people were cutting their meat consumption at the time, it apparently wasn't for the sake of their health, the environment, or animal ethics.

It was economics.

The Globe and Mail reported in April 1973 that consumers were buying less meat and choosing cheaper cuts when confronted with "galloping prices."

A Toronto butcher had come up with a solution.

 "Butcher Al Simpson mixed 33 pounds of Thrifty Burger before midday," said reporter Digby Fodden. "At one o'clock, it was all gone." 

Thrifty Burger was a mixture of ground beef, "soy protein material," water and flavouring that cost 69 cents a pound, compared with 89 cents a pound for hamburger meat.

Some customers ignored the product while others inspected it carefully, squeezing it to test the texture.

"But still others muttered they wouldn't touch it with a 10-foot pole," said Fodden.