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.
