Compared to most other carnivorous cultures, U.S. Americans are among the world’s most finicky meat eaters. If we were a pride of lions that had just chased down a wildebeest and were gathered around for the feast, we would tend to concern ourselves with the wildebeest tenderloin, chuck roast and prime rib, leaving the majority of the carcass to rot in the sun. Not so for much of the rest of the world, who might remark, “Hey, you’ve left some of the best parts!”
In the U.S., many people are selective about both the animal parts we eat as well as the types of creatures we consume. As for the parts, except for a few traditional dishes (liver and onions) and many culture-within-a-culture variations, we tend to stick to the muscle and fat of the animals we eat. There are a few notable exceptions, about which most people are either blissfully ignorant or in complete denial. For example, that ballpark hotdog we’re sharfing down is composed mainly of “variety meats”, a labelling euphemism for “guts”, and no amount of mustard and relish can cover up that fact.
For perspective’s sake, let’s pause a moment to recognize that there are hundreds of millions of earth’s inhabitants who eat no meat whatsoever, either out of necessity or for health, religious, or environmental reasons I personally am not of their tribe, but I respect them for their convictions, discipline, or for the fact that they might eat meat if it were available. I am a confirmed carnivore, having grown up on a Texas cattle ranch no less, where we always had a large freezer stuffed with beef wrapped in white butcher paper. Most Sunday nights of the year were spent gathered around our family altar, the brick barbecue grill in the backyard, as the high priest (Dad) cooked and served Fred Flintstone-sized slabs of sirloin or T-bones.
Having said that, though, I must admit that I’ve never been very adventurous when it comes to what meat I eat. I tend to stick to the more traditional (for my culture) cuts of meat, which are mostly muscle. I prefer my chicken in the form of a skinless breast and my fish deboned and non-fishy. My “meat credo” is fairly straightforward: “No Organs.” After all, organs are designed to produce, secrete, transport, filter, or store many substances that I, for one, don’t want coming in direct contact with the parts I ingest. But, alas, from a global perspective, I am in the minority. The rest of the world beckons for me to broaden my gastronomic horizons.
As I stroll past our a local butcher shop here in Brussels, I spot a whole baby pig that appears to be peacefully sleeping, naked, on a bed of ice. Trays of brains, hearts, and tongues vie for space with brightly feathered pheasants and ducks with beaks and feet still attached. No part is wasted. This efficiency of utilization is found in most parts in the world. Once on a trip to Taiwan, I was eating with a Chinese family when Robert, the university student son, sought to engage me in conversation to practice his English. Keying off of the main course, he asked, “Which part of the chicken do you not like?” I mentioned the back and the neck, to which Robert responded, “I do not like the chicken’s ass!” Yes, I allowed, add that to my list, too. On that same trip I ate chicken’s feet two ways — boiled (like chewing rubber bands with goose bumps) and roasted whole, with claws intact. (Saves on toothpicks.) On my last trip to China, I enjoyed dishes made from cow lungs and beef tendons, among many other picturesque dishes. (See photo below.)
I’m the first to admit that much of my Organ Aversion is purely mental. And when it comes to the types of animals we eat, it is emotional as well. Different cultures may have wildly different attachments to the same species. Why do we have no qualms about eating cows but get apoplectic at the thought of eating a horse? After all, here in Europe there is the cheval right next to the boeuf at the supermarket.
What’s the big deal? Well, it seems like a big deal to me! I grew up watching now-ancient shows like “Fury”, whose tagline was “FURY! The story of a horse…and a boy who loves him.” I think back over those episodes and wonder if I had misinterpreted that special relationship between Joey and his horse: “Way to save me from the abandoned mine, Fury! Now let’s hurry home and get you a big bag of oats – You’re looking a little thin…”
Saddled with such long-held associations, I bridled at the thought of eating horsemeat, but in the spirit of experimentation, I reined in my aversion and bought a nice horse steak at the market and threw it on the grill. I cooked it medium-well and dug in with some trepidation. The verdict? It was palatable, and it wouldn’t have been half bad if I hadn’t known what it was. Years ago in junior high, a friend offered me a piece of chocolate that tasted like a crunchy chocolate candy bar. “How was it?” he asked with mischievous cackle. “Great,” I said, after which he gleefully informed me that it was a chocolate covered grasshopper. It would have been OK had I not known – It’s mostly mental.
The fact is, dietary preferences have cultural roots and are neither right nor wrong. What is appetizing and appropriate is culturally conditioned. For instance, many Australians devour large quantities of Vegemite, a dark brown yeasty, salty goo that tastes to the uninitiated like something scraped out of a rusted water heater. Is it unappetizing? Not to them, because they have grown up eating it. On the other hand, I have met a number of Australians who are repulsed by the taste of peanut butter, which is, of course, the manna from heaven referenced in the Bible.
So what are the lessons from this? First, all joking aside, we shouldn’t judge others’ foods and eating habits. Listen to yourself, and when you hear yourself using words such as weird, gross, or repulsive, you’ve crossed that line. Stick to describing and not criticizing. At least be willing to say, “It is gross to me.” Or “It’s not something I like to eat.”
Also, eat what you like, but be willing to stretch your dietary comfort zone a little. If nothing else you’ll have something new to brag about! This is also a critical part of cross-cultural etiquette. In many cultures, turning down an offered dish is not interpreted as merely a personal preference but as a social snub. In parts of Asia, when you are offered the eyes of the fish being served, be honored and not repulsed! (Play like that squish and spurt is a grape…)
Another point of personal reflection is around the amount of waste of edible foodstuffs in our lifestyles. In light of world conditions, many of us waste an obscene amount of food. No, you don’t have to eat the chicken’s feet or the cow’s stomach, but do take a look at what you throw away in a week and make responsible adjustments.
Well, it’s lunchtime, so I’ll stop for now. Anyone up for a salad?
