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Jun 7, 2007 On
the Side: All's Not Ducky on Foie Gras Front Lines Protesters
at Le Bec-Fin say force-feeding to produce extra-fatty liver is cruel.
Demands for ethical eating are not new. Breakfast cereals were born
of religious and vegetarian impulses. The matter in contention, in this event, was foie gras, the fattened duck liver that's the poster child of the animal-rights movement: "It's your choice; it's your menu; it's your fault!" went one chant. This particular j'accuse was delivered with practiced vehemence, and not a little bellicosity, by Nick Cooney, the leader of four protesters, stationed at 23d and Fairmount, across from the London Grill's sidewalk cafe. (A hanger steak with a foie gras-green peppercorn butter is on the grill's lunch menu, $12.) But if the brandishing of bullhorns and overdeveloped lungs was annoying and, to some London staffers, baldly intimidating, it was effective in one regard: It got people's attention. From the protesters' point of view - a vegan-centric agenda explained more fully on their eponymous Web site, hugsforpuppies.org - this had pluses (some passersby said they were upset by photos of ducks with force-feeding trumpets stuck down their throats) and drawbacks (out of pique, others vowed to seek out foie gras specials). Demands for more ethical eating are hardly new, of course. Our grain-based breakfast cereals were born more than a century ago out of the religious (Seventh-Day Adventist) and vegetarian impulses of wellness guru John Harvey Kellogg. Philadelphia itself was a hotbed for vegetarian activism about the same time, although its mecca - the Bible Christian Church on Third Street above Girard Avenue - was later torn down to build, well, a slaughterhouse. The unprettiness of foie gras-making, which involves overfeeding ducks (or, in France, geese) until their livers are grotesquely swollen and creamy with fat, is a soft target for activists. Cooney, 25, who heads the 700-member (his figure) Hugs for Puppies, cites a Zogby poll conducted in Pennsylvania last year that found 85 percent of respondents favoring a state ban on the practice. The poll question stated that force-feeding "can cause the animals' internal organs to rupture" and that it has been outlawed in several European countries. But the point is somewhat moot: Foie gras is not made in Pennsylvania. A more telling finding was that 61 percent of the respondents had never eaten foie gras, and only 33 percent had even heard of it. It is as old as ancient Egypt, but new on American menus. Tins of the French stuff were once its only U.S. presence. (Cigarette-pack-sized tins still go for $49.99 at DiBruno Bros.) But Hudson Valley Foie Gras, the big U.S. producer, didn't ship its first fresh liver until 1991. By then food activists - and educators - had already scored impressive victories, reshaping production and marketing on other fronts: Premium veal is now untethered because of their efforts, and allowed to see a scrap of sky. Canned tuna is presumed - as an industry standard - to be "dolphin-safe." Grass-fed milk's image has soared on the wings of the green movement. Ditto for "cage-free" eggs. Savvy marketers have been quick on the uptake. A snail merchant in town recently pushed his protein as free of methane emissions. And across the aisle from its tins of foie gras, DiBruno Bros. carries a line of pates prominently labeled foie gras-free. But in the recent street protests, there has been little spirit of live and let live. At Le Bec, demonstrator Dezeray Rubinchik reported feeling intimidated by a drunken customer who exposed himself. At London Grill, a female staffer said she was frightened that protesters were over-personalizing their chants, implying they might show up at her home. Whatever its other benefits, it would seem that the vegan menu does not dull the appetite for confrontation.
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