A brief history of foie gras

The goose is of use to men for its fat, with which many foods
are seasoned; and for its liver, which is especially excellent
if the bird has first drunk milk or mead.

Platina, priest and culinary scholar (1421-1481)

Given its name and reputation, it would be reasonable to assume that foie gras is a French creation. In fact, it dates back thousands of years and was probably savored by gourmands from each of the great Mediterranean civilizations.

In the Nile Delta of ancient Egypt, where ducks and geese were first domesticated, the birds were highly regarded and featured strongly in creation mythology. Geb, the earth god, could take the form of a goose-like being and was said to have laid a giant egg out of which hatched the sun. Such exalted status, however, did not save the birds from the cooking pot; indeed, water foul was an essential part of the Egyptian diet.

Perhaps the earliest evidence of gavage, or force-feeding of poultry, can be seen on tomb relief carvings at the necropolis of Saqqara. Here servants are portrayed stuffing geese from tables heaped with grain pellets. Whether ancient Egyptians especially treasured the liver is unclear, but a fatty bird was much prized. The fat itself was both a valuable source of nutrition and a delicious preservative.

From Egypt , the fattened goose waddled its way around the eastern Mediterranean . The Greek poet Homer gave it a mention in the Odyssey, but it was in Rome that the liver, or iecur ficatum, was first distinguished as a delicacy in its own right. A number of agricultural texts from the last few centuries BC detail force-feeding methods; Roman cookbooks point to ‘fig-stuffed liver’ as the imperial preference.

The fatty delights of ficatum, from which the French foie is derived, were well at home with the decadence of ancient Rome. Great importance was given to the size of livers; preparations included marinades of milk, spices, alcohol and oil. But the feasting was not to last.

With the fall of the Roman Empire, foie gras virtually disappeared from the tables of Europe. There are various theories as to how it survived the political turmoil and culinary obscurity of the Dark Ages to re-emerge in the French court of the seventeenth century. The most likely guardians of gavage were the Jewish diasporas, who, having witnessed the practice in Roman Palestine, incorporated it into their own cuisine and carried it into exile. Kosher eating prohibits pork or beef fat, but not that of waterfowl.

By the late Middle Ages, the fattened goose liver had found its way back into gentile diets, notably those of the clergy (not known for asceticism when it came to matters of the stomach). In the German principalities the delicacy began to reappear in cookery books. Max Rumpholt’s Kochbuch, published in 1581, describes livers weighing more than three pounds produced by the Jews of Bohemia, and features a goose liver moose, a precursor of pate de foie gras.

But it was in France, under the rule of one of history’s greatest gourmands, Louis XIV (1661-1715), that foie gras became a regular ingredient of court cuisine. Vast budgets and fiercely competitive royal chefs ensured banquets that made even Roman feasting look spartan. The chef Massialot documents a dish comprising foie gras, scoter (a kind of sea duck), truffles, chocolate and chestnuts. This effort to satisfy the most demanding of palates – notably that of the king – gave birth to what we know as haute cuisine.

Foreign courts were quick to develop a taste for this sumptuous French fare. The spread of haute cuisine was aided by both a profusion of cookery books (many of which were quickly translated) and a willingness of French chefs to ply their trade overseas. However, culinary trends developed thereafter, however, foie gras remained – and remains to this day – among the most sought after of gastronomic delights.

Feeding geese and ducks for foie gras

The image a goose or duck being forced to gorge itself via a tube inserted in its throat is not a pretty one. Small wonder, then, that foie gras producers have become targets for animal rights campaigners, who accuse them of deriving an elitist delicacy from a creature’s discomfort. In fact, where the fattened goose and ducks is concerned, animal rights protests are nothing new. As early as the 11th century, Rashi, a French rabbi, condemned force-feeding as cruel.

But, look closer look at the anatomy and feeding habits of the goose – not to mention the reality of foie gras production – and the case is not nearly as clear cut. Unlike most other animals, ducks and geese have evolved livers that store fat, in the much the same way as camels store food in their humps. In their natural habitat, the birds gorge themselves – eating as much as possible as quickly as possible – to prepare for their gruelling bi-annual migrations.

Nor is the act of forcing a tube down the throat nearly as brutal as it looks. A duck or goose oesophagus is lined with a hard, fibrous substance, similar to fingernails, that ensures even rough or prickly food slips down without abrasions. The insertion of a smooth tube, therefore, causes little pain or discomfort. Nor is the food pumped directly into the bird’s stomach. Geese and ducks have a chamber at the pit of the oesophagus where meals are stored until they are ready to be digested. After a feed, the birds waddle off to wash it all down with a long drink.

Experience has found that the more traumatic the force-feeding, the poorer the quality of the foie gras. Producers therefore go to great lengths to ensure that the process is as humane as possible - At L’oie de Sapa we even play ambient music to put the birds at ease. French researchers at the National Institute of Agronomical Research have found that a bird unused to human handling will experience a heightened degree of stress during its first force-feeding, but stress levels return to normal for subsequent feeds.