Is Foie Gras Really a Luxury?
By Chef Cheryl Lewis
Recently, I had the pleasure of eating foie gras in an utterly sumptuous form – simmered in Sauternes, chilled and whipped, and then sandwiched between two meringues (à la Gaston LeNôtre) - with a drizzle of veal/blueberry glaçe. I know that “life-changing” is a clichéd idiom, but that it was. All at once, I tasted savory and sweet – crunch and melting – rich and light – old school versus 21st century. It was hard not to cry out in delight, and easy not to remember the ill treatment some goose was forced to endure, just to change my life.
Ancient Egyptians realized that migrating geese store fat in their livers, making them rich and delicious. The Egyptians started force-feeding geese year round. It didn’t conflict with the dietary laws of the captive Jews, so they embraced the practice, including the preservation of meats in goose fat. It was the Jews who, once freed from Egypt, brought those techniques to wherever they settled.
The word “foie” comes from the Etruscan word “ficatum”, or fig. In the last twenty days before killing the geese, the Greeks would augment the food (force-fed through long funnels), with figs, to sweeten the livers. At the time of death, the liver comprises 1/3 the weight of the bird – and it is severely diabetic.
There are two interesting issues that arise when discussing foie gras. The first is the issue of luxury, for its own sake. The second is the (arguably) inhumane treatment of the birds to attain said luxury.
Luxury is subject to perception. The Japanese put hard-boiled eggs, cut in half, in the lunch boxes of school children, because they represent the (lucky) moon with a ring around it. It’s the intellectual luxury of symbolism. Quality is luxury. The result of producing the right grapes on the right slopes of the Haut Medoc- grown and processed by artisans - is Margaux. Truffles and honey, two of the first known culinary luxuries, are created only by nature. In most cases of luxury, we must seek our desire, and then work hard to get it. The challenge is to the benefactor, not the prey.
At first glance, there is no kind treatment when it comes to foie gras. “Making foie gras …involve(s) doing something unnatural to ducks or geese…the procedure…sickens the birds” (Juliet Glass; NY Times; 4/25/2007). At second glance, foie gras is as sublime as a vintage Bordeaux, or fresh truffles studded in a fat omelet.
Do no harm. It’s the first principle of every major religion, and the battle cry of all responsible parents. Is it the flavor or the tradition of luxury that makes us forget that, even though geese and ducks aren’t human – we’re creating luxury from torture?
In 2006, Chicago aldermen banned the sale of foie gras, “…arguing that foie gras is a product of animal cruelty…” (Monica Levy; NY Times, 5/15/2008). Mayor Richard Daley expressed regret that too much time was being spent “…telling people what to eat” (Levy). Perhaps the aldermen were telling people how not to treat ducks and geese. The ban motivated Chicago chefs to serve more foie gras – to guests who might not have considered it before. Now, foie gras was both delicious and forbidden.
The ban was lifted 3 months ago, “…as the public accused city officials of trying to micromanaging people’s lives” (Nick Fox; Chicago Sun Times, 5/14/2008). Smoking laws exist because secondhand smoke hurts other people. That’s not micromanaging. The ducks and geese aren’t just killed for dinner – they’re forced to overeat, made chronically ill – and then killed.
A Spanish company, Patería de Sousa, is going back in history – allowing the birds to “…gorge naturally (without tubes) on grass, acorns, figs, and lupines…and processing them just once a year” (Juliet Glass). The company won the Coup de Coeur for innovation in October 2008, at the Paris International Food Salon. This is my foie gras – my luxury.
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