Customer Reviews

The Foie Gras Wars: How a 5,000-Year-Old Delicacy Inspired the World's Fiercest Food Fight

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I was pleasantly surprised when reading The Foie Gras Wars at how informative the book was. Having taken many Animal Science, Animal Morality, Species Dissection, and even a Meat Processing class in college, I was expecting The Foie Gras Wars to be a watered down or highly biased "layman's version" of what is really going on in the meat processing industry. It was not.

Mark Caro did a good job of remaining relatively unbiased regarding the moral practices of creating Foie Gras. He gave a detailed history of the delicacy, a startlingly frank explanation of how the animals are force fed into having these giant livers, and the standpoints of many famous chefs on whether or not they would serve this controversial dish. I was so intrigued that I even went online to find videos of Foie Gras production. Some were shocking, while others showed humane treatment of the animals.

While the book does get slow at several points, I believe the information was pertinent. I would recommend this book to anyone who wants to get a glimpse into one small section of the meat processing industry. Recommended.

It's rare that I read a book, and decide I need to develop a university course. The Foie Gras Wars, by Mark Caro, inspired me to do so.

The fatty liver of a force-fed duck or goose, foie gras (Caro notes the correct pronunciation is "fwah grah") is a speciality food item in the United States, but a rather common food item in France. The "foie gras wars" are not an anti-French action spawned by the creators of "Freedom fries," but rather a very focused campaign by animal activists and supporters of the humane treatment of agricultural animals toward this one food production system: the practice of stuffing a tube into the gullets of captive ducks and geese and forcing them to consume more food than they would under "natural" conditions (even in captivity) until they have an extremely fatty liver, affecting even their ability to waddle normally, then being slaughtered and packaged for up-scale restaurants (in the U.S.).

The book begins with the story of well-known Chicago chef Charlie Trotter speaking out against foie gras. What made foie gras different than veal, chickens, or bacon? Caro states the attention given to foie gras as a unique food niche was for the following reasons:

- it has a funny French name,
- it is enjoyed by the relatively affluent,
- it remains unknown to the average Tyson chicken eater,
- it is LIVER, and
- it is made from ducks. "We like ducks."

And, of course, the ducks and geese were force-fed. Foie gras promoter Michael Ginor stated "I would think that any animal that's economically grown suffers some. There's no question that the duck on day 28 of [force] feeding is not as happy as a duck that hasn't been fed. But the question then does become: How does that duck feel compared to, let's say, a woman in her ninth month of pregnancy? I don't think that there's ever a woman in her ninth month of pregnancy who's really psyched about that day" (p. 46). And Grammy-nominated musician Moby, who works with The Humane Society of the United States, thinks that there are more pressing animal welfare needs than foie gras. But, Moby claims, "Like insofar as pot is a gateway drug to harder drugs, banning foie gras to me is like a gateway issue to get people to evaluate their eating habits, kind of like the way veal was... The means of production are so repulsive and so profoundly unethical that once your general consumer becomes aware of it, they'll never eat foie gras again" (p. 112).

And what did Chicago Mayor Daley think when an ordinance was passed banning the sale of foie gras? "I think it's the silliest law that they've ever passed" (p. 142). Ironically, the law banned the sale of a force-fed duck's liver, but not the rest of the bird. The law was later rescinded.

So author Caro travels to France to seek out the origins of this food. He concludes that the French do not fear people making the connection between an animal and food as do American consumers. "[I]n America, it's not good that people realize that what they have on their plate is coming from the farm," stated one French foie gras exporter. In France, "People don't want to be told what to eat," said a French anti-foie gras activist. Instead, activists groups like Stop Gavage focus on culture: "How on earth can you say that a barbaric custom, consisting of sticking a funnel or a pneumatic pump down the throat of a caged animal, is a tradition of high culture?" (p. 275, Antoine Comiti).

What does Caro think? "Slaughter happens." "Food isn't just fuel. It's a source of pleasure, and if some people love foie gras the way others love chicken nuggets, who are we to say one dish is frivolous while the other is acceptable? At the same time, the fact that some chefs can prepare fantastic foie gras dishes has no bearing on whether the birds are treated humanely" (p. 280-281). In other words, it's complicated. But he admits, "Truth be told, my diet had become decidedly less healthy since I'd begun my immersion into the world of foie gras" (p. 317). His doctor, after checking Caro's cholesterol levels, was more blunt: "You're done eating foie gras." Caro didn't argue.


At the beginning of this book, probably during the first chapter, I was already wondering how Caro was going to write an entire book on this one issue. By the end, I felt I had a deeper, richer understanding of foie gras production, the arguments both for and against its production and use, its history, and some of the politics of food choices. I think that this was Caro's goal for the reader.

And I don't think Caro would argue.

Note on reviewer (my bias): I am a foodie and a meat eater.

I thoroughly enjoyed reading Mark Caro's assessment of the Foie Gras situation. That's the best way to describe it: "The Foie Gras Situation". Because, as Mark points out, this is about more than eating the livers (and thereby bodies) of force-fed ducks. This is about really thinking about what it means to be a connessoir.

Marc begins the book by talking about how Foie Gras first came to controversy in Chicago. Then he goes through a brief history of the dish, dating back to ancient Egyptian times. Following that he explores the different methods of creating it, and gives even handed voice to both the farmers who produce it as well as the activists who wish to stop it. He examines the information and misinformation produced by both sides.

It seems like most of the Foie Gras farmers will be the first to admit that this "new" dish to the modern pallet went through some growing pains. This new industry has to learn things like "cages=bad" and different feeding methods that could be less stressful to the animals.

The author goes through details of variety of movements to ban Foie Gras, as well as attempts to keep the small farmers viable. I ended the book pretty much in the same boat as the author. I'm not not sure what to think. This is not because force feeding could be considered "cruel", no matter how much pain is taken to reduce the the stress on the animal. The conflict comes because any form of animal eating is going to be considered "cruel" to a certain extent; and some forms (such as egg or milk production...things that most vegetarians eat, BTW) are even worse.

What any meat eater needs to remember is that they need to thank the animal activists for making sure that their food (duck) is being raised in clean and as-humane-as-possible environment. A healthy environment means healthy (and better tasting) food. This is a good thing.

What the activists need to remember is that their lifestyle choice is a belief. It is a dogma, and the more they try to push their beliefs on others; the more backlash they will receive. The activist groups openly admit that they are focusing on Foie Gras because it is a small and easy target on their route to ban all meat. It reminds me tactics used in the 80's when Tipper Gore and the PMRC tried to fine and ban independent label punk bands instead of artists on Sony or Warner because it was "economically viable to our interests". Their goal was to harass small labels and then move on to the majors. The activists say they target Foie Gras as a small goal, and then they'll have a foothold to go after major "factory farms".

This brings us to foodie dilemma: 1) to be a foodie one must enjoy the best of all flavors and tastes available prepared in the most wonderful ways. 2) to be a foodie one is concerned with the production and care taken to produce the ingredients that go into their meals (e.g. is it from local organic produce? is it "real" kobe beef which comes from cows receiving a daily brush and massage? etc.). So what does the foodie do when 1 and 2 come into conflict? I don't think we know that answer to that. I do know that it will be a sad day if people can no longer have [name withheld because I don't want the chef to get protested]'s "prune stuffed gnocchi in foie gras sauce", a dish that I have had pleasant dreams about after first tasting. If one is decidedly a confirmed omnivore, these are the questions they must ask themselves and come to terms with. Being a conscious eater doesn't lesson the experience, and it does not mean that one should be guilty or sorrowful for embracing human nature (once again: omnivore). If anything, it can make eating an even better experience to appreciate what is on the plate, instead of just shoveling the food in our mouths.

I highly recommend this book, filled with (forgive me) food for thought.

I knew Mark Caro was working on this book but I had no idea of the extent of his research. He's asked hard questions of the producers and of the opponents. He even brought together "sworn enemies" to have civil conversation. Mark's writing is funny and smart. He's covered a subject that affects few average citizens but he's made us think about all of our food and how we come by it. The book is a good read, a page-turner. Even knowing about the Chicago overturn of the ban, I wanted to keep reading to find out how the book would end. And if I get a chance to eat foie gras,I will and will thank the duck. And Mark.

I ordered this book just because it sounded esoteric and interesting, and was in for a lovely surprise. This book is a fascinating journey through the world of foie gras. the people that make it, the people that cook it, the people that oppose it.

the book gives you a great, descriptive inside look, and despite the theoretically niche aspect of the product, it really is a far reaching book. as i was sitting outside in my pesticide free yard, eating a vegan organic meal that i cooked, i was thinking -- i need to buy foie gras at the next restaurant i go to -- not because i have a sudden urge to eat it (it is quite good though), but to support small farmers and the artisan movement

that is one of the great aspects to the book. it puts aside moral simplicity that is often used by animal rights groups (many of whom I support) and shows how stupid some of the arguments are, and paints this in a broader concept of food production and farming in general, and the various lives that it touches

you will learn about the history of foie gras, and how it is produced, and the controversy around it, but more interestingly, you will learn about the people involved in the production, the cultural history, the people involved in the preparation, and the people involved fighting for and against it -- it is a very human book, told in a fast, descriptive, and thoroughly engaging way.

super interesting, and great for conversation

Mr. Caro is a Chicago journalist in that great gritty tradition. He gives us a work as one expects from a working reporter. He has no axe to grind, no flag to wrap about his own self. What a relief! If you are interested in this narrow subject of duck livers, then read this book for his thorough and professional treatment. But the wider appeal, because he writes so well, is to anybody interested in the American Spectacle of personalities, politicians and the media.

This book is about a fight.

The story starts small, Charlie Trotter as protagonist and his lost mignon, Tramonto as first of many antagonists. I just read his book "Osteria". My last review on Mr. Trotter was for his superb, if difficult book "Raw". These guys are antithetical, captured expertly by Mr. Caro. If I could offer the difference between these two chefs, it would be Trotter's cooking as dominance, while Tramonto is cooking of surrender to spiritual essence.

Mr. Caro does not much venture into philosophy or theology. Those are red herrings because his book is about a fight in the grand American tradition so reported by Mencken under headings of "Buncombe", aka "bunk".

I like how Mr. Caro does not much editorialize. He leaves that guff to those empty suits who use the editorial page as their two-faced bully pulpit. He observes and reports. He quotes and questions; he lets the reader figure out the rest.

With a story like this, I do not want my reporter worrying about deep thinking. Just give me, please, skilled and honest reportage. If You want more on ethics and science, I recommend Peter Singer and Michael Pollan. Mr. Caro does give us just enough of his personal thoughts, but never in a shoe-banging fashion.

It is easy to see how the James Beard Foundation gave this book their award. I do not want to spoil the rest of this book. Mr. Caro is thorough. He takes us from New York's Hudson Valley to Israel and to the Mecca of foie, Perigourd.

This book reaches far afield of foie, cover photo to the contrary. He looks at chickens, cows and turkeys. I am always surprised how many turkeys dinde) we eat in France.

This book reaches all those who follow media and the great circus that follows in Chicago. Before any spoilers, all you need to know is that the Chicago political and media is reported at their best in the rest of the book. Too good to miss.

By the way, D'Artagnan is my favorite purveyor of all things duck and goose. They are in New Jersey and easily found. They have my highest recommendation after twenty-five years of personal experience.

The most astonishing thing about this book is the objectivity maintained by the author. In light of the fierceness of the foie gras battle here in the Philadelphia area a year or so ago, I had given up on the idea of ever seeing a nonpartisan viewpoint.

The battle is more political than real. Foie gras is something eaten by few and produced by few, and so the campaign against it makes a lovely animal-activist cause that politicians can embrace without fear of alienating large numbers of constituents. For local politicos trying to become identified with a worthwhile cause in the minds of the electorate, anti-foie gras is win/win. If they tried to improve the lot of the supermarket chicken, thus increasing the price by a considerable amount, people would protest; they might even decide to vote against the good-hearted soul who tried it.

Mark Caro has researched the issue carefully. Are the ducks made to suffer greatly? Does the stuff taste good anyhow? Apparently not so much, and oh, yes, indeed (but it's not good for you, you know, just like everything else that tastes good).

(To update the situation in Philadelphia: after an attempt to ban foie gras failed, the restaurants banded together to initiate a proposed yearly `foie gras week,' in which the item in question would be featured.)

In spite of dealing with such a seemingly trivial issue, the book is a surprisingly good read; the stories of the Chicago chefs alone are absorbing for their demonstration of the peculiarities of the strange people who inhabit the world of haute cuisine.

My first introduction to the term, "gavage" was after the premature birth of my daughter. In order for her to survive, she was fed by tube, gavage, and she consequently was nourished, thrived, and when she learned to suck, no longer needed the tubal feedings. When she was a child, we jokingly said there were to be no food fights until college, but we were wrong. As a junior high school student, she didn't fling meals in her food fights, but after a trip to France where she learned about the force-feeding of ducks, she became a non-meat eater and has remained such. At that time, we discussed how the technique that had prolonged her life was used for purposes of eventually killing two legged and two winged creatures.

On April 5th, I read an article in The Washington Post. Jennifer Howard reviewed Mark Caro's THE FOIE GRAS WARS How a 5,000-Year-Old Delicacy Inspired the World's Fiercest Food Fight and
THE FACE ON YOUR PLATE The Truth About Food by Jeffrey Moussaieff Masson. I chose to read Caro's book first and intend to read Masson's in the near future.

On Tuesday, I heard on the radio that an American, Daniel Andreas San Diego has been placed on the FBI's List of Terrorists. If you go to the FBI website for wanted terrorists, you will see him on the same top row of the page as Usama Bin Laden. In the Remarks, you will read, "San Diego has ties to animal rights extremist groups. He is known to follow a vegan diet, eating no meat or food containing animal products." I further heard that it is believed that it is just a matter of time before innocent humans are accidentally killed as a byproduct of the terrorist activities of animal rights activists.

Mark Caro describes the process by which foie gras is developed, prepared and served, and he does this in an entertaining manner. It is a very well researched, well written work of non-fiction that offers various opinions, so for me, it is an extremely worthwhile read. There is no proselytizing and he offers information, observations and experiences for the reader to develop his/her own conclusion regarding their position in the "Foie Gras Wars." This book gives another fascinating historical discourse on a cultural phenomenon and how it has been in the past and is now perceived. I look forward to reading this book again in about 20 years. Then I'll see if foie gras has gone the way of the McDonald's styrofoam Big Mac container (an artifact I just saw in a lengthy scene in Wayne Wang's movie, DIM), or if humans will experience an economic recovery, simply take cholesterol medications, and create methods of fattening up those ducks' little livers in more "humane" ways and rename the foie gras something like soylent green.

This book chronicles the controversy in the United States over the making and serving of foie gras. Caro, a Chicago-based journalist, had his curiosity piqued when celebrity chef Charlie Trotter declared he was no longer serving foie gras in his restaurant. In this book, Caro investigates the factors behind Trotter's decision and he explores the foie gras industry in great detail. He also describes battles by animal rights activists to outlaw the product or at least get chefs to stop serving it in their restaurants.

This book is an informative introduction to foie gras. Before reading this book, I knew that foie gras was a tasty goose or duck product, having discovered it during a vacation to Dordogne in France, but, like many consumers, I had no idea about the force-feeding process that is such an essential part of foie gras production. In this book, Caro describes many versions of the gauvage (force feeding), from funnels with hand-ground augers to pneumatic machines that squirt a measured dose into the esophagi of the birds, from birds kept in mass pens in airy barns, to birds kept in tiny individual cages so small that they cannot turn around and their neck and head conveniently protrude from the top of the cage. Throughout the book, Caro tries to get a handle on the ethics of the process--is it torture, or not? Is small-time production with "humane" methods of guavage any worse than the treatment ordinary industrially farmed animals receive? Rather than attempt to decide such questions for the reader, Caro presents arguments on both sides, supplemented with his observations that the birds (mainly ducks) don't seem to be particularly stressed by the process, although they certainly don't seem to enjoy it. With such a controversial issue, it's difficult to present a thoroughly objective account. Caro is a confirmed foie gras aficionado; thus, he is certainly inclined to listen to the producers when they claim that their birds are not treated cruelly. Rather than take them at their word, though, he visits their farms, and tries to determine for himself if the claims by animal rights activists that foie gras involves torture have any validity.

Caro devotes much of the book to describing the various campaigns to outlaw foie gras. He describes how the California legislature passed a law against the production of foie gras, an act that will spell the end to the livelihood of the state's single foie gras producer. He also describes the 2-year ban on restaurants selling foie gras in Chicago, as well a restaurant-by-restaurant campaign of civil protest and intimidation in Philadelphia to get chefs to "voluntarily" take foie gras off their menus. I found this part of the book particularly disturbing. In a completely different context on the opposite side of the court, Joe Moore, the foie-gras ban proponent in Chicago, stated "This is really a good Political Science 101 example of how government really works, that a loud, vocal minority can oftentimes set the agenda." That is one of the frightening things about a democracy, when a vocal minority can wield an out-sized power that detracts from the rights of the majority. Certainly foie gras production is no picnic for the birds, but is it worthy of large-scale protests when billions of animals continue to be raised on industrial farms? As Caro describes it, animal rights activists choose their battles carefully. They must feel a lot safer protesting a luxury food in front of fancy restaurants than they would protesting burgers in the parking lots of fast food joints.

Is foie gras torture? After reading this book, I tend to agree with Caro that the question is still open, but that the process doesn't seem any worse than animal production on industrial farms. On other hand, as someone who raises animals on a home-scale for meat, I know that to produce healthy meat, you need to have your animals at the prime of health on slaughtering day. From Caro's descriptions, guavage takes a healthy bird and makes it less healthy. The producers he interviews all note that birds are more likely to suddenly keel over and die (heart attacks?) during the end of the guavage period. Their panting shows, at the very least, they are less capable of dealing with heat stress. No matter how tasty it is, a foie gras liver comes from a bird whose health has been compromised by forced obesity. French claims to the contrary, a diet high in foie gras is not likely to be healthy for humans, as Caro himself discovers towards the end of the book. It seems if one chooses to consume foie gras at all, it should be only as a treat, like full-fat ice cream or fancy liquors, and as with any animal product, the conscientious consumer should carefully consider where and how the product was produced before choosing to consume it at all. This book is informative, interesting, and thought-provoking, and would make a good springboard for discussions on food politics and ethics.

Caro's book is well-written journalism--compelling, multilayered, with a good balance of personal, political and ethical. Obviously, this is a complex issue, and one that Caro handles with impeccable research and respect. He goes so far as to go to France in pursuit of answers, but never preaches to his audience. If you're looking for a definitive answer on this issue, you won't find it here. But you will know more than the outspoken knee-jerk critics of foie gras, and at least be able to make a more informed choice.

He spares nothing--telling us of good farms and bad, describing the sights and smells and sounds, even when they are disturbing. This is not a light or easy read, because of that. At the same time, he is careful to show us the people behind the foie gras industry--not just chefs or industry reps, but private farmers and large farmers and waitstaff at restaurants as well. These people create another level of complexity to the issue--the debate between 'industry' and 'artisan', the capitalist American dream of building a new industry from scratch and then watch it falter. It's not just an 'animal cruelty' issue: this book shows the foie gras industry as a typical business in America--small and large. It also asks us: Is there food that is 'necessary', compared to food that is 'luxury'? It's also about the idea of vegetarianism and sustainability in the big picture--are vegans the wave of the future? Does that mean we should be forced to turn our backs on traditions? Have we become so disconnected from the idea of the food chain that we are blinded by the foie gras industry, not realizing that much of the same 'cruelty' extends to any farm-raised meat? Is it right to single out one?

One thing I did learn about myself as I read the book and its sometimes hilarious, sometimes infuriating brushes with Chicago politics, is this: I do not like being told by anyone what I can eat. I find that notion entirely condescending and outrageous, especially since, at least in Caro's depiction, the politicians and activists in the foie wars seem to be poorly informed. I also do not like many of the tactics used by the activists in Caro's book--threatening people's families? I'm automatically on the other guy's side!

Your opinions on these issues may be different from mine, of course. But I find that the books I enjoy the most often teach me something about myself and how I see the world, and this book definitely does that. It doesn't pretend to have the answers, but it asks all the right questions.