Carl Sandburg famously celebrated Chicago as: “Hog Butcher for the World/Tool Maker, Stacker of Wheat/Player with Railroads and the Nation’s Freight Handler.” We can now add another line: Foie Gras-Hater.
The city’s ban on pate made from fattened goose or duck liver goes into effect this week. But the first day of new regulation was marked more by jeering defiance than meek compliance. The New York Times reported Wednesday that saucy restaurateurs staged a veritable foie gras orgy in response to the ban, slapping the stuff on everything from scallops to pizza.
Grant DePorter of Harry Caray’s Restaurant summed up the opposition neatly, saying “We really don’t think the City Council should decide what Chicagoans eat. What’s next? Some other city outlaws brussels sprouts?”
The Chicago Tribune features Mayor Daley zestily calling the ban (requires registration) the city’s “silliest law.” Tribune editors also allowed their writers to use the stomach-churningly cute phrase “foie gras faux pas,” which you may or may not enjoy reading in context.
As any serious chowhound can attest, deciding what not to eat isn’t an easy choice; it’s a complicated ladder of moral decisions. Ban supporters cite the cruelty involved in producing foie gras; ban opponents cite a fear of a nanny state.
Does the fact that the stuff’s delicious count for anything? Anybody?