Talking Turkey

Humans are funny birds. We get so wrapped up in habits, comfort zones, and traditions that sometimes we forget who we are, what we care about, and why we even do what we do. Thanksgiving is one such instance, sadly exemplified by its alternative name: "Turkey Day." Thanksgiving is meant to be a day when we celebrate the bounty of the harvest, pause in gratitude for the abundance most of us experience, and share what we have with others. Most people don't stop to think about the nearly 300 million birds that are killed each year in the U.S., just to satisfy our taste buds. Of this number, 45 million are killed for Thanksgiving alone.

As someone who teaches vegetarian cooking classes, I’ve seen many people turn away from meat, dairy, and eggs and embrace the array of delicious, nutritious plant-based foods available to us. I’ve also seen them change the lens through which they view the world, which I think is critical for shedding the comfort zones of the past and creating new ones. Some people have a real fear that they will no longer have satisfying, filling meals – especially on Thanksgiving. I can say with confidence that they can put their fears to rest.

Our Thanksgiving feast every year is full of comfort foods galore, prepared with organic ingredients from local farms: mashed potatoes with mushroom gravy, bread & nut stuffing, mashed rutabagas, cranberries with pecans and cranberries, stuffed acorn squash, corn bread, Brussels sprouts, corn, peas, pumpkin pie with cashew cream, and apple pie. This was our menu last year, and I’m sure I’ve left something out. Indeed, there is no dearth of food on our table on this special day, as we share it with our closest friends and family.

For those who have never met them, turkeys are magnificent animals, full of spunk and spark and affection, with individual personalities and charms. These animals, who have been abused and discarded by human beings, whose beaks and toes have been mutilated, and whose genetically overgrown bodies are susceptible to heart disease and leg deformities, still display immense affection towards humans. They are incredibly curious and follow you wherever you go, and their wonderful vocalizations include an array of clucks, purrs, coos, and cackles.

Turkeys love to be caressed, and people often remark that they respond just like their own dogs and cats. Turkeys even make a purring sound when they are content, and not until you’ve had a hen fall asleep under your arm have you lived. She will literally melt under your touch, relax her body, and begin to close her eyes, softly clucking all the while. It’s a sight to see, and I’m moved every time I have the privilege to witness it.

Some individuals are more affectionate than others, climbing into your lap and making themselves as comfortable as can be. At an animal sanctuary I frequent, a particularly friendly turkey became infamous for her propensity to hug. As soon as you crouched down, she would run over to you, press her body against yours, and crane her head over your shoulders, clucking all the while. It’s amazing how so generous a hug can be given by someone with no arms.

They’re not all saints, but some are heroes. One turkey became my personal protector when I was trying to clean a barn and was continually accosted by a particularly rude and aggressive bird. Each time the aggressor would begin to close in on me, my hero would waddle over and get between me and his barn-mate. It was remarkable, and it happened over and over (turkeys are very persistent). What made this scene even more touching was the fact that these toms suffered from bumble foot, an occurrence of abscesses on the footpads that resemble corns, a common occurrence in domesticated turkeys. Between their grotesquely large breasts and inflamed feet, turkeys walk very awkwardly and with a lot of effort. I was very touched that such an effort was made on my behalf.

I grew up eating turkeys’ breasts, turkeys’ legs, and turkeys’ wings, and I'm still making amends to these extraordinary animals. I believe we’re able to mutilate certain animals for our gustatory pleasure because we don’t have relationships with them. We never meet them face to face. Once I met a turkey, I was never the same again. Once I began to celebrate Thanksgiving as turkey-free holiday, I learned for the first time what “Happy Turkey Day” really means.

Eating Animals

To the animals, it’s all the same. They want to live. If they have wings, they want to fly. If they have legs, they want to walk. If they have voices, they want to communicate. If they have offspring, they want to mother them. To humans who perceive animals as inferior, their lives are here for us to end, their wings and legs are ours to eat, their voices are ours to silence or ignore, and their reproductive cycles are ours to manipulate and use. It’s not the animals but our perception of the animals that enables us to do all sorts of horrific things to them. As with any kind of prejudice, first you have to lower the societal status of the group or individual before you can actually oppress them, and we do this with animals across the board: in the language we use that denigrates them (calling people pigs, calling animals dirty), in the rights and natural behaviors we deny them, in the place we’ve carved out for them in society, making them tools for research, clowns for our enjoyment, delicacies for our palates, and victims of our desires. This dynamic is so ingrained. We learn it at such a young age, and we’re considered quite radical if we question it at all. And we think all the world thinks and acts as we do.

We never stop to consider that our perceptions and treatment of non-human animals is culturally based. Period. Our cultural and personal and familial habits inform so much of what we do on a daily basis. It’s why any talk of the "necessity" of eating animal flesh is balderdash. It has nothing to do with our biologic makeup and everything to do with our cultural foundation, taste habits, and, frankly, our arrogance, the arrogance of the human species. But let's talk about cultural habits for now.

As westerners, most of us were raised eating the dismembered and scorched bodies – otherwise known as meat – of pigs, cows, calves, chickens, fishes, ducks, lambs, and turkeys. Despite the fact that these animals suffered and were killed to satisfy our appetites, many of us draw an arbitrary line and turn our noses up at the people who eat other animals that may not have been on our own dinner plates: animals such as deer, rabbit, or buffalo. People get upset at the thought of eating precious bunny rabbits, as they munch on the leg of what was once a precious calf or baby chick. With even greater indignance we’re shocked at the (also western) cultures who eat horses and goats, and our stomachs turn at the idea of eating frog’s legs, chicken’s feet, cow’s tongues, and monkey’s brains. And with what can be characterized as approval of our own speciesism, we scorn those who eat cats and dogs.

“Can you believe that?” Some people have said to me. “That’s just so upsetting – cats and dogs? I mean really!.” Is something I often hear. And I attempt to mirror the hypocrisy of their remark by saying: “You know what I heard? I heard people eat the shoulders of pigs and the wings of birds! Can you believe that?” OK it doesn’t have the same shock value, but it would if that person lived in a place where that was unheard of. In the workshops I teach, do an exercise that works quite effectively to get this across. I give the group a handout that talks about the growing number of farms raising dogs for their milk, about how this is a growing trend that’s popular in different parts of the world. People get outraged. They get really upset to hear about the female dogs in confinement, chained up, made and kept pregnant so they will keep lactating, taking away the babies so humans can have the dogs’ milk, etc. After everyone records their reactions, I reveal that the article was really about goat’s milk before I replaced all the references to goats with the word “dog.” It’s at that moment that everyone feels the impact of their reactions. They begin to question why they reacted so strongly when they thought it was about dogs and that they don’t think twice about drinking cow’s milk (and now goat’s milk and sheep’s milk, which are being touted as necessary health food for humans). It’s a powerful exercise, and it’s hard to do, because it’s so hard to look at the world through a different lens. But it’s what we need to do to see the absurdity of our choices.

In writing these podcasts and the essays for my newsletter (also called Food for Thought, which you can subscribe to at compassionatecooks.com), it’s always a struggle finding the words and the photos that will be effective enough without turning people off. The photos of dogs and cats raised for their flesh in parts of Asia (particularly Korea and China) are so horrific for people, because they’ve never seen dogs and cats in such gruesome circumstances. It’s the way most of us react when we first see the animals we kill and eat in this country, but it’s a little more upsetting I think, because most people haven’t had personal relationships with pigs, cattle, chickens, turkeys, etc. I can understand having a strong reaction. I really can. But I also think it’s important we recognize that the deep roots of our desensitization enable us to allow animals here to be imprisoned, confined, denied, abused, and tortured so that we can satisfy a palate preference, whether that preference is for the legs and wings of chickens, the backsides of pigs, or the sides of cows. – it comes down to the cultural habit that has been ingrained in us. The dogs and cats, the goats and horses – they’re all cultural habits of other countries. Just as some cultures or religions choose vegetarian – it’s all cultural. It has nothing to do with biology. If we can remember that, perhaps we wouldn’t be so quick to judge other cultures but would instead rise up to oppose what we do in our own.

On the other hand, I don’t believe culture, tradition, or religion are adequate excuses for cruelty. Dr. Albert Schweitzer, the great humanitarian wrote, “The thinking [person] must oppose all cruel customs no matter how deeply rooted in tradition and surrounded by a halo. When we have a choice, we must avoid bringing torment and injury into the life of another.” I couldn’t agree more or have said it more eloquently. Just because we can, doesn’t mean we should. Just because we’ve always done something doesn’t mean it’s the best thing or the right thing to do. And when we know better, we can choose better.

To the animals, it’s all the same. Whether they meow, snort, bark, winny, moo, quack, gobble, hop, fly, swim, or run, they all feel pain, loss, and fear. A Korean dog wants to live and resists death as much as an American duck. To the animals kept and killed for human pleasure, it’s all the same.— the loneliness, the pain, the screams, the darkness, the torment, the fear, the cold, the heat, the untreated illnesses, the longing, the frustration, the boredom, the desire to flee, the desire to live. When we can recognize that we share all of this with non-human animals, perhaps we’d reconsider the choices we make on a daily basis. Consider this – they’re all habits, and habits were meant to be broken. It takes three weeks to break old and form new habits. There’s no reason – only excuses – not to at least try.

You Say "Blood" - I Say "Au Jus"

I just read an article about how the heat in California is causing "animal farmers" to suffer. Oh no - don't worry. They're not suffering from the heat. They have air conditioners to keep themselves nice and cool. They're suffering because their "livestock" is dying - from the 100-degree temperatures we've been experiencing. Most "beef cattle" aren't given shelter from the blazing hot sun, and with California being the #1 dairy state (Sorry Wisconsin!), thousands of cows are falling over (also without shelter), "creating a backlog of rotting carcasses," according to the authorities. There is a "backlog" because they don't have enough places to "properly dispose of dead animals." It makes sense when you think about it, because the vessels into which they would normally dispose of the "carcasses" (how come they can use that word??) are our own tummies! So, I have a solution for everyone!

Since some people insist that we must eat animals in order to survive (I wonder if that makes me some kind of miracle!), I figure they can have breakfast, lunch, and dinner - with a few meals in between - if they brought a fork and knife to these dairy farms. It would solve the farmer's problems (you can pay them a small fee for your meal), the abundant carcass problem, and the hunger problem all at the same time. I guess the only problem is we'll have to change the name from rotting carcass to something else, like cow flambe or specialdu jour . I mean - when it's a cow that dropped dead from the heat or an unfortunate squirrel who happened to run into a car, it's a "carcass," but if it's something we desire to put in our mouths, it's called "dinner." We're such funny little birds, we humans. It tickles me to no end.

All sarcasm aside, my heart goes out to every life that's ended for our appetites (and I'm responsible for many myself). The annual body count of animals killed for human consumption is, according to the USDA, over 10 billion in the U.S. alone. That number doesn't even include the fatalities I mentioned above or those who die en route to slaughter and on factory farms. Each and every one of those individuals was denied dignity in life and dignity in death. Any of us who live with animals do everything we can to keep them safe. In terms of their ability to feel pain and suffering, there is no difference between "beef cattle," "dairy cows," and my own cats. The only difference is our perception of these animals. We split our hearts by valuing one animal for his or her own sake and another for the taste of her flesh or milk or the profit he/she brings.

Whether it's a natural disaster or a humanmade war, whenever deaths are reported, the animals are virtually ignored. In the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, the treatment of displaced animals during a crisis is being taken seriously, but sadly, if you listen to the rhetoric, it's still not for the animals' sake. It's for the humans. Yes, I suppose that's better than nothing at all, but I truly believe that until we change our perception of animals, absolutely nothing will change in our treatment of them. Where our minds are prejuiced, so will our behavior reflect that bias.
For every person who eschews eating animals, lives are literally saved. If we are saddened by the death of an animal on the side of the road or from a natural catastrophe, then we can offset that misery by changing our eating habits. Eating vegetarian is a powerful way to live. It means we can look animals - and ourselves - right in the eye. No guilt, no shame, no blood. Did I say blood? I'm sorry - I meant au jus. Ah, the language of denial. Ya gotta love it.