Foie Gras Food Fight

While gourmands love foie gras, however, animal activists hate it with a passion, and their efforts have paid off. In California, an ugly food fight has led to a ban on the delicacy that went into effect on July 1, 2012, effectively knocking it off the menu throughout the state. Now, any restaurant caught with the contraband faces a $1,000 fine.

The deeply polarizing controversy over foie gras centers on its production, which involves gavage, a technique that requires a feeder to insert a small tube into a bird’s esophagus and then deposit feed. The procedure replicates the natural process that occurs when ducks and geese in the wild gorge themselves to prepare for migration, causing the liver to become enlarged. The extra fat gives foie gras its unique qualities. Gavage, though, is artificial, swelling the liver as much as 10 times its normal size, and opponents consider both the method and the physical results to be animal cruelty. Proponents say that, when done properly, gavage doesn’t hurt the birds. The scientific community has produced reports supporting both positions.

In Northern California, the heart of the slow food movement and the home of sustainable agriculture, even needing such a ban seems an anomaly, but, in fact, it hits close to home. Before the law went into effect, Sonoma Artisan Foie Gras, established in 1986 in the city of Sonoma, was the only foie gras producer in the state and one of only three in the entire country. Now, the business is shuttered, turning a dream into a nightmare for one family, eliminating jobs for others and ending a source of tax revenue in Sonoma County.

A family business

Guillermo Gonzalez and his wife, Junny, natives of El Salvador, arrived in Sonoma 26 years ago with plans to raise ducks and produce foie gras using ethical practices. Guillermo’s first foray into the world of foie gras, though, actually began two years earlier.

In 1984, the United States created the Caribbean Basin Initiative to promote the development of new export products and encourage trade with non-Communist countries, including El Salvador. At the time, Gonzalez was the president of an association of young entrepreneurs who believed in promoting a more just and humane private enterprise, and he came to the attention of the United States Agency for International Development (USAID), which provides humanitarian and economic aid worldwide. The agency sponsored him to attend a conference in Miami, where he learned about a goose foie gras project, and he identified it as one of the new export products to develop, so he subsequently established a goose farm in El Salvador with four partners. The civil war in that country intervened and scuttled their efforts, however, so he started seeking opportunities in the United States.

During a visit to South Dakota, Gonzalez read an article in the New York Times about a French producer of foie gras and changed direction. He and his family went to the Périgord region of southwestern France, which is noted for truffles as well as ducks and geese, and lived there for almost a year while he worked alongside the Dubois family to serve an apprenticeship on their farm and learn the business.

Fate determined their next step when a woman from San Francisco happened to visit and suggested the Gonzalez family explore the possibility of opening a small artisan farm in Northern California. Gonzalez went to UC Davis (Avian Sciences Cooperative Extension) and to the California Department of Food and Agriculture (Poultry & Meat Inspection Branch), where he learned that a small chicken farm was available for rent in Sonoma and successfully made an affordable deal to start Sonoma Artisan Foie Gras on the property. “It was like being in the right place at the right time,” he says. “It was a blessing.”

Ducks were the bird of choice. “Geese are more fragile,” he says, explaining they’re more sensitive to climate changes and have to be fed three or four times per day, whereas ducks only need two feedings. In addition, “Most people prefer duck foie gras because its flavor is more intense,” he says, describing it as sweeter with a slightly different texture. What’s more, goose meat only has a seasonal demand, whereas duck meat can be sold year-round.

He believes in using the entire duck, and says, “To be sustainable, it’s essential that the whole animal is used.” He describes foie gras as the highlight of the duck, but says other parts of the bird are equally important, too. Magret—the breast—is like “the other” red meat and can be seared, smoked or made into prosciutto, and the legs are usually made into confit. The bones and wings are used for stock and, says Gonzales, “The fat is prized for making confit and French fries cooked with it are superb, and even the offal [organs] is appearing in more and more dishes.”

In the beginning, Guillermo and Junny did everything themselves, from feeding the ducks to packaging the foie gras for delivery. “That’s how we started,” he says. “I’m very proud of it. … It’s a small family business. We’ve been very successful.”

The business went so well that, in 1998, it needed more space and expanded to the Central Valley to raise ducks and contracted an outside company to do the processing. In 2003, the Gonzalez family was considering buying the property they were leasing, but then the protests began and everything changed. Vandals began making threats and orchestrating actions that forced the installation of surveillance equipment. “They started trespassing in the middle of the night,” says Guillermo.

Animal rights groups also began filing lawsuits, which had a tremendous financial impact. “The company was hemorrhaging,” says Gonzalez. “They’re very powerful. Their modus operandi is legislation, lawsuits and intimidation; some of their tactics are considered domestic terrorism by the FBI. We were the perfect stepping-stone for them. We were the low-hanging fruit.”

The next year, in 2004, the California Senate passed Senate Bill 1520, authored by State Senator John Burton, banning the production and sale of foie gras. Although Gonzalez opposed the ban at first, he believed the sunset clause it contained would allow time for reason and science to eventually prevail, because the deal included state funding for research and a study to determine whether foie gras production is humane. “With the groundwork that was set in motion pertaining to the studies, I was gladly submitting my practices at the farm to scientific review by California experts. I was confident that our methods would be found to be humane,” he says.

Then he received a call from Burton’s office saying that funding was not available. The studies never took place. Gonzalez withdrew his opposition when the final version of the bill included legal immunity against civil lawsuits. “The same groups that were aligned with Burton were behind those lawsuits, so I didn’t have a choice,” he says. “This was the only way we could avoid immediate financial ruin—the only way our business could survive under the stresses we had undergone.”

At the end of June 2012, he closed the business and says, “My family and I achieved the American Dream. But it’s been taken away from us by powerful special interest groups who used violence and dishonest tactics. It’s not right.”

He sees many interests involved in the fight, with animal husbandry, sociology, culture, philosophy and tradition all playing a role. He’d like to see some moderation, but doubts it will happen, and says, “The movement is so extreme and fixed on the idea that it’s immoral to eat an animal.…It needs the good will of the people to sit down and talk about it.”

Chefs take a stand

The senate approved the ban in 2004, during the Schwarzenegger administration, but it allowed eight years for it to take effect. During that time, a study was to be conducted to establish scientifically whether or not gavage was cruel. “Guillermo was certain his methods would prove humane, so he accepted,” says La Toque’s Frank. Unfortunately, “Last minute the funding for the study was pulled, and Guillermo was left twisting in the wind. He got screwed.

“Many of us assumed [the study] would provide a way out of the ban before the sunset period ended,” he continues. “It was only within the year that the reality set in that the deal had changed and foie gras was going to go away without proper study being done.”

In response, a group called Coalition for Humane and Ethical Farming Standards (CHEFS) mobilized and delivered a petition with the signatures of 100 of California’s top chefs to Senate President Pro Tem Darrell Steinberg and Assembly Speaker John Perez on April 30, 2012. Just two days later, on May 2, Steinberg said lawmakers would not consider the issue because they needed to focus on the state budget; Perez declined to comment on a bill that was not yet before the assembly.

Given the proposals outlined in the petition, however, it’s unlikely to end there. Rather than simply demanding an overturn of the ban, the chefs and food professionals took a more positive approach and proposed new standards that would address the concerns of opponents and allow chefs to return foie gras to their menus. The proposals, which apply only to foie gras production and not large poultry farms, include regular audits by certified animal welfare experts, cage-free birds, trained caretakers, hand feeding and reasonable limits on fattening and feeding methods that don’t impair breathing or harm the animal in any way.

“We aim to repeal the ban with the highest standards in the world,” says Frank. “We don’t want a black market. It would be much better to lead the way.”

He adds that foie gras, seared and served hot with medjool dates, candied orange peel and pistachio nitro bread, was one of the most popular items on his restaurant’s menu. “I’m distraught that this law is going to take away one of my favorite ingredients,” he says. “It’s a unique and wonderful product. It’s a gift of nature.”

He says that where his ingredients come from is important to him, and he’s visited the Sonoma Artistan Foie Gras farm several times. He describes it as “a lovely facility run by people who really care about the animals” and calls Guillermo and Junny Gonzalez “some of the finest people you’ll ever meet.”

When asked about gavage, he responds that at Sonoma Artisan Foie Gras, “It in no way harms the ducks. If I thought the ducks were abused, I would have taken it [foie gras] off my menu in a heartbeat 20 years ago.”

Frank, who testified during the senate hearings that preceded the ban, believes the issue is based on emotions and says that, if opponents really want to make a difference, they should go after the factory farms. “We are where we are on the food chain,” he says. “I don’t want them dictating what my customers can and can’t order.” He concedes, however, that the chefs were slow in responding to the ban and says they only became aware that it was real in the past year.

Michelin-starred Chef Steve Litke of Farmhouse Inn in Forestville also was caught off guard when he realized the ban was approaching. “A lot of people, such as myself, never thought it would pass,” he says.

His restaurant had foie gras on the menu for two or three years before the law went into effect, and it was an increasingly popular dish. “It’s a great product,” he says. He paired it with fruit according to the season and, this spring, his presentation included rhubarb.

Now, with the ban in effect, “We’re obviously going to follow the law,” he says.

He suspects, though, that foie gras might go underground. “I think chefs will find ways to get around it,” he says, suggesting that some restaurants could evade the provision forbidding the sale of foie gras by charging $50 for a glass of wine and serving it with complimentary foie gras.

He believes the ban will eventually be overturned, and says, “It’s sad for a state senator to tell you what to eat. People should be able to do what they want to do. If you don’t want to eat sea cucumber, don’t go to a Japanese restaurant and order it.”

It’s tradition

Although quintessentially French, foie gras had its origins in North Africa thousands of years ago, when Egyptians observed the natural fattening process in geese prior to migration and started to feed them figs. The French adopted the practice, became masters and, eventually, the serving of foie gras became a valued tradition for special occasions in France and then around the world.

For French natives Bruno Denis and Chef Olivier Souvestre, owners of Le Garage in Sausalito and L’Appart Resto in San Anselmo, foie gras is a way of life. French families always serve foie gras for special meals, such as Christmas, says Souvestre. “It’s the tradition.”

“It’s one of our more popular items. Every French restaurant serves it. It’s part of our culture,” says Denis. “It’s definitely a product we both need and love, and we like to have it on our menu.” He finds it hard to imagine a French bistro without foie gras.

Souvestre grew up eating foie gras in Brittany, and his mother prepared it several ways, sometimes seared and other times in a terrine. For Le Garage, he marinated the foie gras in port, brandy, seasonings and a touch of honey for a lengthy period of time. “After 24 hours, we put the foie gras into a torchon,” wrapping it in a towel and forming it into a cylinder,” he explains. Then it’s poached for 20 minutes in chicken stock with close attention to timing because overcooking destroys the texture; finally, it’s sliced and served it with rhubarb compote and raspberry ginger coulis. “The combination is perfect,” he says, observing that pairing foie gras with something sweet cuts the grease and makes it more delicate.

Denis and Souvestre plan to take foie gras off the menu at both restaurants. “It’s not our choice; we have no choice unless we want to do it illegally,” says Denis. Somewhat puzzled, he shrugs and adds, “I understand animal treatment, but it’s been going on for hundreds and hundreds of years, thousands. It’s just tradition. People have been running family businesses like this forever.” He questions why the government would ban foie gras and not other things.

He doesn’t agree with the ban, but observes that, for restaurateurs, foie gras is just an item on the menu, whereas for those in the business of production—it’s their livelihood and whole life.

The fight is likely to continue, but it’s too late for Sonoma Artisan Foie Gras. After 26 years, “We’re ending up without a business, without a livelihood,” says Guillermo Gonzalez. The closure leaves 12 people without jobs, but indirectly it affects a whole chain of people including the owners and employees of the production facilities whose business will be significantly reduced, feed producers and truck drivers.

For Gonzalez, it means starting over. “My wife and I just turned 60. This is a mountain in front of us that we have to climb,” he says. “We’ve been loaded with emotions.”

Although he’s spent a year and a half looking at the possibility of going to another state, by the beginning of May, he’d decided to take some personal time. “We need to wait and see,” he says. “I think we’re going to take a timeout—take a deep breath—and then decide what to do. We’ll apply our entrepreneurial spirit and innovation to future endeavors.”

He sighs and says that he never expected to be a protagonist in such a war.

Threats, vandalism and expensive lawsuits, plus language in the ban that forbids the sale of any part of a foie gras duck, end the war for Gonzalez, but for the chefs it appears to be just the beginning. It’s an emotional issue, but theirs is a rational approach that could satisfy both sides and add some civility to the dispute, putting an end to the rhetoric and tactics that have made the fight so distasteful. The next battle is getting people to listen.