Why, yes, indeed. Thank you to me for welcoming me back into my bosom. I just can’t thank me enough for my warmth and generosity.
So I go off to Deutschland with the Frau and Kindern, and what do you think happens? The whole world goes to Hammond in a handbasket. And I’m not talking about Israel and Hezbollah, even though we vacationers missed that conflict entirely, I’m not talking about the looming threat of Iran as a nuclear power, although today’s NYTimes points out that no one in the intelligence community (the ones who do the spying and the number-cruching) thinks that the danger is imminent. I’m not talking about heat waves, gas prices, or any of that stuff.
No. Here’s what I’m talking about: I come back to the bosom of the States and see that Chicago has indeed, as they have threatened to do for some months now, instituted a ban on foie gras. Can you believe it? What will I have with my biscotti in the morning now?
That Chicago, the erstwhile hog-butcher to the world, the place that legendarily learned to use everything in the pig but the squeal, would suddenly get all soft on us and knuckle under to the goose lobby just makes the mind reel. Do those alderman realize that by enlarging the livers of geese to 10 times the normal size, we actually have to kill 90% fewer birds for the same amount of liver (which is loaded with vitamins, BTW)? No, they don’t bother themselves with little details like that.
But it’s heartening to realize that human nature is still the same, and this city’s up-yours attitude is still strong. Many restaurants and diners who ordinarily wouldn’t touch foie gras now feel the urge–the compulsion–to eat it, on everything from pizza to cornbread. Yeseterday’s Tribune has an article about it.
And the best hot dog restaurant in the city–fabulous Hot Doug’s–is leading the fight for foie gras-furters.
A less publicized but long-standing protest continued at Hot Doug’s, where proprietor Doug Sohn offered three variations of a foie gras-laced sausage despite the prohibition. In April he named the foie gras and sauternes duck sausage (with green apple mustard and goat cheese) “The Joe Moore” in honor of the proposal’s sponsor.
As the joint’s slogan goes, “There are no two finer words in the English language than ‘Encased Meats’, my friend.”
Yes, me, welcome back.
Good to have you back!
I especially enjoyed the less-than-lukewarm response from the Dept. of Public Health on enforcing the FG ban. I certainly would rather have them ferreting out rats in the kitchen (and even ratting out ferrets in the kitchen) than preventing me from spending too much money on an appetizer.
The Sun-Times is reporting that Block 44, at Lincoln and Montrose, served some foie gras over the weekend, just to use it up, and a customer actually ratted them out! There’s nothing worse than a goose liver narc!
But the upshot apparently is pretty minor. The restaurant will get a stern letter from the department of health, then after the second infraction, a fine of $250. For more info, check out http://www.chicagoist.com.
Soon illicit dens will pop up all over the city, serving foie gras and opium. Reminds me of the meat market in the creepy British sitcom The League of Gentlemen, where the people in town come in and whisper for the “special” that you’re never quite sure about.