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Chefs in stew over foie gras
Some rethink menu after violence over controversial fare
Kim Severson
San Fransico Chronicle
Friday, August 22, 2003
Elite Bay
Area chefs, stunned by the vandalism directed at one of their San Francisco
colleagues who serves foie gras, are taking a serious look at what's on
the menu.
Despite being
frightened by the attacks, many chefs who offer the French delicacy told
The Chronicle on Thursday that they plan to continue listing it on their
menus -- almost as an act of defiance.
Others acknowledged
that the furor over foie gras has rekindled concerns about the way some
animals are raised for the table, prompting them to review the food they
offer.
As reported
Tuesday, authorities have blamed radical animal rights groups for a series
of attacks in recent weeks on Aqua chef Laurent Manrique, damaging his
car, his Mill Valley home and his foie gras shop in Sonoma.
Whether fearful
or angry, Manrique's professional colleagues say the situation has made
it clear that writing a menu is becoming a political act.
Dan Scherotter,
chef of Palio d'Asti in San Francisco's Financial District, announced
on Thursday a special menu featuring the luxury item as an in-your- face
move directed at the vandals.
"The
fact that people would terrorize a chef for doing something that is absolutely
legal and not understand how foie gras is really made is ridiculous, "
said Scherotter, who has in the past received calls from animal rights
activists angry that he serves veal.
"I'm
against any sort of Puritan gestures. People get to choose what they want
to do -- eat foie gras, have abortions, read and write whatever they want.
"
On the other
side are chefs like Jardiniere's Traci Des Jardins, who said she will
discontinue her signature foie gras and see how customers respond. Although
she, like many chefs, wonders if her restaurant will be the next target,
Des Jardins says her decision is not about fear. Ever since she visited
a foie gras farm in 1995, Des Jardins said she's been "haunted by
the image of those ducks."
Foie gras
is made by overfeeding ducks or geese to fatten the liver. In the last
two weeks of their lives, extra grain is poured through tubes inserted
in the birds' throats. The entire process mimics a natural gorging some
migrating waterfowl engage in before they begin long flights.
FBI agents
are calling repeated acts of vandalism a case of domestic terrorism, directed
against Manrique and his partners, who run a small Central Valley farm
where ducks are raised for foie gras.
In the past
few weeks, vandals have attacked the men's homes and cars, spray painting
messages like "foie gras is animal torture" and "stop or
be stopped."
They left a threatening videotape of Manrique's family filmed through
the window of his home, warning that he was being watched. In the latest
incident last week, vandals flooded a Sonoma foie gras restaurant and
shop the men planned to open in September. Police estimate the damage
at more than $60,000.
Chef Jen
Koide at Cinq in Corte Madera was shocked that a chef would be singled
out for violence simply because of a menu item. She uses foie gras, even
though she chooses some organic produce and avoids certain fish that are
in danger of being overharvested.
"For
me, it's such a key ingredient in French cuisine, I wouldn't even think
about not using it," she said. And for the French-born Manrique,
she said, foie gras is part of his heritage. "Besides, is foie gras
any more cruel than feedlots? I don't see that it is."
Larry Bain,
who manages Jardiniere and Acme Chop House, says that with some food items,
it is easy for a chef to offer a more environmentally and politically
appealing alternative. For example, getting meat from ranchers who use
humane practices or caviar from Sacramento River sturgeon instead of the
threatened Caspian Sea fish.
"But
with foie gras, what can you substitute? What else can you serve that
has that same sense of elegance and luxury?" he said.
Bain has
had run-ins with animal rights activists earlier this month when he arranged
dinner and panel showcasing humanely raised pork. Activists sent him a
barrage of e-mails arguing if he wanted to be humane he shouldn't serve
pork at all.
Even though
foie gras has a long history on French tables, it became commonplace on
high-end menus in the Bay Area only in the 1990s, fueled in part by the
free-spending dot-com boom. At San Francisco's Restaurant Gary Danko,
foie gras remains because diners expect it, just like they expect Danko's
signature lobster preparations, he said.
"As
a chef, it is not my job or my intention to tell people what to eat,"
Danko said.
But he, like
many other chefs, increasingly finds himself having to make political
decisions, whether it's about how to raise the pay standards and working
conditions in his kitchen, or which charitable events to support or, as
in the case of foie gras, what to put on the plate.
"Chefs
are kind of like politicians now," he said.
And, as is
the case with Manrique, that means being prepared to take hits from political
extremists.
"I worry
about it every day, regardless of this latest case. Look at the Starbucks
thing," Danko said, referring to a recent case of vandalism against
several Bay Area coffee shops. "People are acting because they feel
there are social injustices."
And, several
chefs pointed out, it's hard to get the staff behind a foie gras ban.
It's a high-ticket item, which translates into bigger tips.
Manrique
remains worried. His home address and phone number have appeared on the
Animal Liberation Front Web site. On Bite Back, a Web magazine that posted
an account of the Sonoma foie gras shop attack, activists said, ominously,
that they found the addresses and phone numbers of several people involved
in the Sonoma shop project.
FBI spokeswoman
LaRae Quy, whose said the agency is working with police in Sonoma and
Marin counties, asks anyone with any information about the attacks to
contact local law enforcement.
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