Creature Feature: Sebastopol Goose.

Hey, come to think of it, we've never looked at domestic geese on this blog. This is my fault entirely; there simply hasn't been a goose breed that has gotten my attention. Just looking at domestic geese for one little pic, however, led me to quite a strange goose indeed:

This is a Sebastopol/Danubian goose (Anser anser domesticus).  The breed originated in Ireland from the wild Greylag goose. It only became popular in the 19th century in Europe, and is considered a rare breed. They used to be common everywhere around the Black Sea, and came to England by way of a port in Sebastopol (now in the Ukraine) sometime in the late 1800's. The typical coloration is white with blue eyes and orange feet, but others are available.

The most outstanding trait of the Sebastopol goose is, obviously, the feathers. A similar trait has been found in parakeets. The feathers are so curled that the goose cannot fly. They do, however, make lovely feathers for pillows and quills. Nonetheless, the trait is considered bad for the goose, and it is recommended that curly feathers be kept off the goose's chest so as to avoid wing deformities. (Compare: the taboo against breeding Harlequin Dane x Harlequin, so as to avoid deafness in the puppies.)

From Breed Savers.

Other than the feathers, this goose looks...fairly average. It's frequently crossed with another common goose breed, the Embden, which is one of the more typical "farm" geese. Both are typically bred with a white body and orange legs. It also heavily resembles the Roman goose in color and stature. One trait makes these geese stand out from all the rest, but it's a doozy.

Who knew geese could be so interesting? Perhaps there are more bizarre geese out there waiting to be made into good entries. Hmm...a whole theme week of geese? It's very possible, especially since not many aside from goose enthusiasts will ever see the weird ones. Keep watching!

"They Actually Eat That:" Mastika.

I do not talk about it frequently on this blog, but every Monday, I go down to Greektown (Chicago) and volunteer at the Hellenic Museum. This exposes me to all sorts of Greek foods and drinks on a regular basis. A lot of people know about stuff like baklava, spanakopita, and ouzo, but there are some very traditional Greek things that no doubt some people avoid because they haven't heard of it. This entry is devoted to one of those things.

Greece- no, Europe- loves a drink/gum/flavoring called mastika. It is so named for being made from mastic ("tooth-gnashing") gum. In Greece, it is frequently served with appetizers (meze) and almond-based desserts. I'm fairly sure that this was what I had as "medicine" in Greece the one time I went there. It's also popular in Romania, Macedonia, and Bulgaria.

Mastika is made from mastic gum, which is made of the resin of Pistacia lenticus. P. lenticus is an evergreen shrub native to the Mediterranean region. It has been produced since ancient times on the island of Chios in Greece, which is so famous that it has its own variety of mastika. For this reason, "mastic" is often synonymous with "gum." Should you find yourself near an actual mastic shrub, the sap drips off from the tree in "tears," and the result is sold as a yellowish, crystallized droplet. 

Source with more.

Mastika can be described as tasting like anise or licorice. I personally see it as having a taste all its own. If you've ever had Riesen candy, there's a little bit of that flavor, too. It's worrisome that it's 50% alcohol - people with low tolerance, stay away. The tiny medicinal dose given my Greek place likely won't hurt you, but be warned that it's strong stuff and indeed has a flavor.

For all you teetotalers out there, it is possible to find mastic gum by itself. The Hellenic Museum has mastic candies, both hard and gummy like Turkish delight. Mastic itself is fine chewing gum, albeit expensive. It's good for you, sporting antioxidant and antibacterial properties. Try some if you get the chance; traditional Greek food and liquor stores might carry mastika, or, better still, hard candies flavored with the stuff. Have your gum and chew it, too...for hours.

Little Shop of Horrors: Queen Anne's Lace.

Did you know you might have wild carrots growing in your backyard? It's true. Most flower guides, however, will not mention that the plants are in fact carrots. If you've ever wondered what carrot flowers look like, wonder no more. Anyone who's taken a hike through dry fields or alongside roads  may well have seen this bloom around:

Source.

 This is Queen Anne's lace, AKA the wild carrot (Daucus carota). It originated in Europe, but has since become wild in the United States and Australia. It is relatively easy to identify by its many clusters of small, white flowers in a lacy, overturned umbrella. It's largely considered a weed, but more on that later.

The plant supposedly gets its name from one or both of two Queen Annes: one from Denmark, who was in turn the mother of Anne, Queen of Britain. Legend has it that the red flower in the center is from an accidental prick of the needle when Queen Anne was weaving said lace. Of course, its real purpose is to attract insects, but that's not nearly as fascinating, is it?

Although a close relative of the domestic carrot, the wild carrot can be considered either helpful or harmful. Mostly, it is a wild weed perfectly capable of consuming one's garden. However, certain plants such as tomatoes may actually grow better in the presence of Queen Anne's lace. Queen Anne's lace is also used for several medicinal purposes, including general skin issues (burns and the like) and, surprisingly, anything relating to menstruation. If carrots can cure that time of the month and/or be a contraceptive, I'm on board.

That said, it is not advised that you attempt to eat wild Queen Anne's lace for a number of reasons. The first is that it strongly resembles poison hemlock, so a misidentification could be lethal. The other is that wild carrot roots are not nearly as tasty as the carrots one finds in the supermarket. The root becomes woody after a very short amount of time, and even then, there isn't much there to eat. It'll save you

Bio-Art/A Week of Hogwash: Tattooed Pigs.

Whew, back on track! For the record, me collapsing on Monday nights is indeed normal. Luckily, this week promises to be fun. It's a whole week of hogwash, or awesome pigs you never thought you'd meet.

Belgian tattoo artist Wim Delvoye has found new meaning in life: tattooing pigs. He started tattooing pig carcasses while working at a slaughterhouse, then proceeded to tattoo live, sedated pigs in 1994. There is now a massive gallery of tattooed swine. They are found only in Art Farm China and, occasionally, in museums. 

So, why pigs? "They grow fast and are so much better to tattoo than fish," says Delvoye. It's also nice that we can see the ink on the pigs because their hairs are so fine. As the artist points out, it is also fascinating to see a tattoo on a young pig blossom into a massive artwork on a full-grown hog. Then, when the pig's time has come to go to the sty in the sky, the tattooed skin remains.

Even if you put fashionable tattoos on a pig, it's still a pig.

Interested in having a pig as a pet? How about an inked pig? Art Farm does indeed intend to sell its swine, probably for a pretty piggy penny, somewhere down the line. For now, however, it is possible to buy an inked pigskin or stuffed pig. They are also occasionally on display in various art galleries, so be on the lookout for tattooed pigs in a museum near you.

Or not! Some people have amazingly strong reactions to these pigs, calling the inking a violation of animal rights. Delvoye claims that the pigs actually feel less pain than humans on the skin - in part because pigs were wild at one point and aren't known for having flimsy skin in the first place (think "football"). Regardless, the topic of tattooed swine tends to carry mental outrage in its wake. Unless every single protestor has never touched bacon, however, they are probably just as "hypocritical" as the vegetarian artist is; you do not wanna know what goes on at pig farms where the porkers aren't inked.

"They Actually Eat That:" Hummus.

Just to prove that I don't play favorites, the U.S. has some pretty gross foods, too. The crowning achievement, as of late, has to be Dunkin's newest breakfast sandwich. It consists of bacon and egg...on a glazed doughnut. Original, yet sickening.

Luckily, some of us have realized that foreign diets are pretty much unanimously better than the American "diet." Mediterranean food, from Greek yogurt to gyros, has always been pretty popular and is only getting more so as time goes on. One of the newer things from that area to hit the scene is hummus, which is unfortunately also greasy. Not as nasty as some of the things on this blog,  but certainly messy and interesting.

Biggest hummus dish EVER.

So, what is hummus, anyways? In short, it's a chickpea dip. Nobody knows when it started, but it has been around in Iran, Iraq, Pakistan, and Egypt since time immemorial. The first recorded instance of hummus as we know it comes from 13th century Cairo. The dip consists of lemon, mashed chickpeas, olive oil, salt, garlic, and something called tahini (sesame paste). It is also usually served with pita chips, so chips n' dip go back farther than you might think!

Hummus is one of the healthiest foods ever. It makes something called a "complete protein" with bread, making it ideal for vegetarian and vegan diets. This is even better if one happens to be allergic to tree nuts. There are several commercial brands available in the States.  Strange as it may be, it's actually good that it's getting popularized.

You can also get creative with hummus!

Now, some people like the taste of hummus. That's fine. It does not change that it's still a greasy mess to clean, not to mention adds the scent of garlic to one's breath for the rest of the day. (This one's from personal experience.) So long as you don't have any important events to go to, enjoy your hummus. It's one of the few dips that's actually good for you.

Creature Feature: Liopleurodon.

"It's a magical Liopleurodon!"

If you live on the internet, the above phrase should be strikingly familiar to you. It comes from the extremely odd Flash movie called Charlie the Unicorn. The first of the series features a Liopleurodon sprawled across a giant rock. So, what is a Liopleurodon, anyways?

Liopleurodon is a genus of extinct, short-necked pleisiosaur (pliosaur) containing two species. These marine reptiles lived during the Jurassic Period, joining Stegosaurus as one of the few well-known archosaurs from that time frame. They have been found mostly in England and France, which you'd think would merit a more uppity-sounding name.

Liopleurodon was one of the big ones.  The biggest specimen of L.ferox was roughly 21 feet long. People trying to cash in on Liopleurodon will tell you otherwise, sometimes replacing "feet" with "meters" to create a sea monster of gargantuan proportions. There were bigger pliosaurs. For some reason, the misconception of a giant Liopleurodon has stuck.



Pliosaurs, including Liopleurodon, had very powerful bites. Look at that huge jaw on a stocky neck - it's like a crocodile mixed with a pit bull. The exact opposite applies to plesiosaurs normally; Nessie, for example, has a tiny head on a long neck. One pliosaur was thought to be capable of biting through granite, but unfortunately, we have no means of testing.

Liopleurodon is one of paleontology's sweethearts. It's a giant carnivore, and has been treated like one in series such as Walking With Dinosaurs (which got its size grossly wrong). There's also a neat bit with a Lio versus a Megalodon- a giant, extinct shark. Oh, and when Liopleurodon is not being a killer, it shows magical unicorns the way to candy mountain. Y'know, even though it didn't say anything.

Freak Week 4: Giant Bunnies.

There was once a little horror story called Year of the Angry Rabbit. It was a flop for one very obvious reason: the monsters featured therein were giant rabbits. That is just about the least terrifying concept ever...even if you happen to see it in real life:

A while back, this photo was posted on Snopes. The New York Post article it was from accurately called Herman a German Giant rabbit. Could German scientists really be breeding giant rabbits, possibly to create the most cuddly-wuddly army ever? Yeah, no. The rabbit, however, is a very real giant bunny, bred mostly for fur. Lots and lots of fur.

There are several breeds of giant rabbit. The most famous, in part thanks to the internet, are the Flemish and German giants. They are common knowledge to rabbit breeders, and have been around since the 16th century at least. They can even occur as freak accidents in regular rabbit breeds.  Anyone who knows bunnies knows about these guys.

D'AWWWW!

As with all giant versions of things, one must ask "how giant is giant?" For rabbits, "giant" is an 18-pound furball. A giant rabbit can get over a meter from twitchy nose to fluffy tail, all the while making onlookers d'aww. Beware: they also eat a lot more than the average bunny. No reports of killer giant rabbits yet, thankfully.

The current record book holder isn't even a giant breed. Humphrey is a French lop, but he's gotten over 3 feet (roughly a meter) long. The Continental Giant Amy is currently larger and heavier, but there is a good chance Humphrey will catch up. Giant bunnies are real, but whether they will become truly monstrous remains to be seen. That would take a lot more selective breeding, for sure.

They Actually Eat That: Herring in Sour Cream.

We do not have many traditional foods at Christmas in my household. This is largely due to my own dislike of Polish (we can't get czarnina) and Nordic foods (that aren't awesome cookies). This time, there was a little bit of a lapse, and something odd made its way to the table for a bit of nostalgia on my mom's part: pickled herrings in sour cream.

Anybody with an appetite can probably tell why this thing wound up on "They Actually Eat That" from the name alone. Herring and dill might not sound too bad together, but throwing it in sour cream and stuffing it in the fridge has a certain degree of chilling nastiness lurking beneath it. So, why do people eat it aside from it being a clearly acquired taste? Let's find out!

Pickled herring is fairly common throughout Europe. In Nordic countries, however, they go insane with preserving things. Pickled herring in sour cream is just one of the ways they go a little overboard with preserved fish. It is frequently eaten around Christmastime. Dear gods, this is already sounding on par with lutefisk.

Having not tried this thing, I cannot give an accurate description of how it tastes or its texture. The general descriptions are disgusting enough to deter me.  I can imagine it tasting like fish, cream, and dill pickles, but most written descriptions sound way worse. The texture of it is something like meat, but not, cold, springy, and generally unpleasant. If you must eat herring, try it another way.

And no, I did not actually eat that. This was one I passed on simply because of a first impression. Even after that, my dad said it was strange. One critic called it "the most fucking disgusting shit I have ever eaten." I am willing to take her word for it. Go cut down a tree with the herrings instead of doing this with them.

"They Actually Eat That:" Ass.

Sometimes, something makes it onto this column because it is gross. Still other times, it is simply our narrow definition of "food" in the United States that makes something qualify for this list. Today's dish definitely falls under the last category: "Why aren't we eating this, again?"

Donkeys are like funny-looking horses: long ears, long face, funny teeth, shorter legs. We laugh at donkeys. They are, for all intents and purposes, solid beasts of burden and a "poor man's horse." The donkey doesn't have the same majesty as a horse...but not many people in the States would consider it meat, either.

Well, yeah. Donkeys are around. Why not eat them? China has been enjoying it for over 300 years; donkey meat is fairly popular in Europe; if people have donkeys, they have probably found a way to eat donkeys. It just kinda happens when you're another species hanging out with humanity.

The thing is, Equus asinus is not usually considered food in the U.S. of A. Unlike with horses, it's not that most Americans would have an objection to eating donkey- it's simply that we haven't thought of that because our cultural definition of food is pretty narrow. Donkey meat tends to cause a scandal, over here.

Source.

That said, the cultures that do handle donkey meat handle it much like other meats. There is a sadistic donkey recipe in China, but it's so mind-bogglingly simple that it's barely a recipe. Tie a donkey down and eat it. Easy enough. No animal is safe in China, silly ass. Several other places enjoy donkey meat as well, but it's really common in China. It's literally subway snack stand common.

So, if you haven't tried donkey meat, give it a shot. It's rich in iron, calcium, and phosphates, along with being leaner than most store meats because donkeys eat grass. It is probably better for you than most meats on the market.  If it makes you feel any better, pretend that the meat before you is a certain talking donkey that won't shut up about parfaits and waffles. You know the one. You're welcome.

Creature Feature: Mourning Cloak.

It definitely feels like fall here in Chicago. Things are getting colder. Leaves are falling. Halloween stuff is available in stores everywhere. I can't hate fall because I really hate winter, but it is when things start to get depressing.

Then I see one of these, and still can't help but wow. That's a Mourning Cloak (Nymphalis antiopa), a large butterfly native to North America and northern Europe. There have been some reports of them in Britain, but they are few and far between.They can be found far outside of their range during migration.

A flutter-by look does not do this butterfly justice. Not only are Mourning Cloaks big with distinct markings, but they're part of a group of butterflies called "brushfoot butterflies." If you look at a Mourning Cloak in detail, it looks like they have only four feet. The last two are there, but so vestigial that they have been reduced to brushes. Don't worry, nobody plucked them off.

From Thebutterflysite.com

If you don't think the butterfly is impressive, the caterpillar certainly is. It is also called the "spiny elm caterpillar." Like many caterpillars, the spiny elm puts all Hot Topic customers to shame with its spikes and outlandish orange spots. They often feed in groups, defoliating whole leaves before moving on to the next. Although, hey, nobody likes having their trees nibbled, these caterpillars are rarely problematic enough to warrant pest control. Just remember that they become awesome butterflies.

Winter does not do a thing to Mourning Cloaks. Like less-masculine bears, they enter diapause (i.e. hibernate, effectively) until spring warms things up. They are literally among the few insects to survive winter in the Midwest. Instead of flower sap, they feed on tree sap after awakening. Clever butterfly is clever and has found a niche all its own. Good going, Mourning Cloak; now keep impressing me until winter hits!

Creature Feature: Alpine Salamander.

Life has away of situating itself where we least expect it. There are bacteria in literally every environment.  Tiger mosquitoes came to us in tire shipments. Crested geckos went extinct for a few years, then suddenly reappeared. Frogs are surprisingly abundant in the Himalayas. The list goes on.

So why should we be surprised that there is a unique sort of salamander in the Alps? The alpine salamander (Salamandra atra) also happens to be completely black.  It is found at altitudes above 700 meters - pretty darn high up - in the Central, Eastern, and Dinaric Alps. For those of you bad with geography, that's Switzerland, Austria, Italy, France, and more obscure places like Bosnia and Croatia.

Let's put this in perspective. Salamanders, and amphibians in general, are usually associated with hotter climates. The Alps? The Alps are where the Sound of Music took place. There is a lot of snow in mountains in general. Personal experience has also taught me that altitude alone makes things cold. Discovering a neat salamander in such a place is, well, something to write about.

These salamanders are among the few wholly terrestrial amphibians. As if in rebellion against the name "amphibian," alpine salamanders spend their whole lives on land. Most salamanders mate, lay eggs, and spend part of their lives in the water. These do not, leading to a phrase you will never see anywhere else: pregnant salamander. Yep, these guys have live babies.

Belongs to Wikipedia. Still a cute salamander.

Baby alpine salamanders are born much like baby sharks or boas: they have an egg at one point, but it hatches inside the mother. The eggs eventually melt into a nutrient (vitelline) mass that all the embryos share. Like all babies, the salamanders also have gills in the 'womb' as they develop; in the case of these salamanders, however, the gills link them to the mother's blood supply. They've evolved a womb without really evolving a womb. Neat.

The freaky part: Alpine salamanders have a long gestation period, even by mammalian standards. It takes them 2-3 years to give birth, depending on subspecies. That makes the longest gestation period of any known animal. This is probably the reason that some subspecies of alpine salamander are critically endangered - that, and being amphibians. Not-endangered varieties aside, these salamanders are decently abundant and simply very good at not being seen.

"They Actually Eat That:" Kiviak.

A lot of people seem to think that humans have weak stomachs.We hear that wolves can eat things that have been dead for weeks and go "ooooh." This gasp of awedoes not take into account the sheer variety of things that humans can eat. Chocolate is poisonous to most other animals, for example.

Well, guess what? We can eat things that are rotten. We just call it "fermented." We don't just eat rotten things - we eat rotten art! Cheese and wine are fine examples. There are some that sound far less savory, however...

Kiviak is a Christmas, wedding, and birthday dish from Greenland. From this alone, one can tell that 1. this will not be "normal" meat and 2. it is definitely cuisine. It is eaten by Inuit peoples around the Greenland area in the wintertime. Hoo boy is it special, too.

Kiviak has a simple, yet somehow utterly disturbing recipe: 1. Skin a seal;  2. catch 400-500 auks and sew them into the skin of said seal;  3. wait several months, then remove the seal from the rock you hid it under. Yes, that's what kiviak is: auks stuffed in a seal skin, hidden under a rock for a looong time. I've gotta wonder who first went "hey, let's put birds in a seal carcass for seven months and see what happens!", but that's the tip of the iceberg when it comes to kiviak.

The other nasty part is how you eat the auks: bite off the heads and suck out the guts. The innards have, by this point, been liquefied into a tart pulp that can easily be slurped. It supposedly reeks just as much as some types of cheese, but luckily, tastes pretty good, too. After taking birds out of a dead seal, it's hard to get any nastier, so we're glad there's a silver lining to the seal skin.

People have been doing fermented cuisine like this for a looong time. There are whole catalogues of fermented foods, many of which smell awful. It's a method of preserving food, which is always nice to develop. Given the choice between this and lutefisk for preservation, well...kiviak is all-natural.

P.S.- This entry has been brought to you by Moyashimon, the unholy master of all things fermented.

"They Actually Eat That"/Who Let The Dogs Out: Hot Dogs and Dachshunds.

You're probably thinking that this entry is some sort of bad joke. I already did an entry on eating dogs, after all. This was just my corny attempt to fit "They Actually Eat That" in with the theme week. I don't need to make many more bad jokes; dachshund owners do it for me.

For those of you who assumed "wiener dog" could not possibly be the right name for a dog breed, the proper title for sausage-like dogs is "dachshund."  The breed could date all the way back to ancient Egypt, but the first confirmed dachshund was recorded in the 1700's. They are now so closely associated with Germany that the 1972 summer Olympics in Germany created a dachshund mascot.

Waldi, the too-colorful dachshund mascot.

The dachshund's shape is deliberate. It was meant to hunt badgers (with the name meaning "badger hound"). That long, narrow, pointy shape fits perfectly into a badger burrow. The front paws even help for digging! There are also some mini-hot dogs bred to hunt rabbits. The pet dachshunds are usually "tweenies," or wiener dogs somewhere in the middle of the two sizes.

Believe it or not, there actually is a relationship between dachshunds and hot dogs. A German concession seller at the polo grounds in New York first called sausages in a bun "Dachshund sandwiches" sometime in the early 1900's. Supposedly, a New York Post cartoonist could not spell "dachshund," so the name "hot dog" stuck instead. That said, hot dogs themselves are mystery meat coated in bacteria that might make you sick if not cooked and cause cancer if consumed too often, so please avoid them whenever possible.

Also avoid putting them on your dog. Seriously, it looks ashamed.

The strange shape of the dachshund is not without its price. There is a spinal disc malfunction so specific to dachshunds that it's dubbed "Dachshund Paralysis" by most people. Dachshunds are lazy in old age, leading to obesity, diabetes, and all those other nice things doctors warn you about. Demeanor-wise, they are also prone to being brave to the point of recklessness, disobedient, and downright aggressive if not properly amused. E.B. White had quite an experience with his own dachshund, Fred, who "even disobeys me when I instruct him in something he wants to do." Not a beginner's dog by any means.

So, next time you see a furry little sausage at the park, bear the following in mind: 1. Dachshunds  were meant to hunt badgers, easily among the meanest furry mammals on the planet; 2. they are almost synonymous with Germany, a place known for meat, beer, and Rammstein; 3. they are aggressive, assertive little buggers who do not know what it means when you are bigger than them. Have fun sticking them in hot dog buns, now.

"They Actually Eat That:" Cat.

But it isn't like this. No, this was a lucky photo I snapped with my phone. Styx conveniently decided a frying pan was a good place to try and take a nap. We did not intend to make her into kitty bacon, she just so happened to be in the pan for it.

That said, there are places that eat cats as food. No, it is not just restricted to China. It looks like quite a lot of people enjoy cat meat, even in "civilized" places. Unlike dog, this is a taboo food that a lot of people eat. Let's look at a list, shall we?

THIS is what cat meat looks like. Or, well, it's not nearly as cute as Styx in a frying pan.

For starters, yes, cat is a common food in the more rural parts of China. You will not find it by going into restaurants in Beijing or any other major city. Supposedly, cats are illegal to sell as food, but the laws are not as strict in the countryside. Guangdong is particularly notorious for a dish called "dragon tiger phoenix," which contains snake, cat, and rooster meat, respectively. The dish is, as with most Chinese food, medicine.If the name Guangdong sounds familiar for another reason, it's because a billionaire was poisoned by the cat meat there. Ceiling Cat was watching him twitch in agony.

Eating cat is also not limited to China. Cat was legal in Japan until the 19th century. We like to think that Hello Kitty helped make it even more disliked after that point. Korea still eats cat as they do dog. All three of the major "WTF food" Asian countries are slowly moving away from eating cat as more furballs find their way into homes, however, so expect it to be restricted to rural areas by the end of the decade.

The other big area famous for cat meat is, supposedly, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. Now, we aren't saying that this place serves cat in five-star restaurants - far from it. Street meat is commonly accused of being cat meat. There have been busts on Brazilian slaughterhouses selling cat and dog meat. We have reason to believe that the name "cat meat skewers" has some basis in fact, here. Nobody likes the concept, even in Brazil, so please don't jump to conclusions. Just sayin', if your barbeque tastes a little off...

Australian aborigines also hunt feral cats. Now, let's be fair in this instance; the domestic cat wrecked the Australian ecosystem. Remember, the rule of thumb with Oz is, "If it has a placenta, it's not from around here." Cats are no exception to that rule. In the case of Australia, turning cats into food is pest control. After all, what happened with rabbits was terrifying.

Basically, if there is a rural area, there is a high chance that someone, somewhere has tried to turn cat into cuisine. Europe has it. South America has it. The internet doesn't say that hicks in North America eat cat, but it wouldn't surprise me.

"They Actually Eat That:" Larks.

Ah, spring. OK, it's going into summer, but the weather is warm, the air is fresh, and the birds are still singing. Red-winged blackbirds usually greet me on my bike rides, but Europe has another bird with a much more beautiful song...that just so happens to be a delicacy.

Can you identify a lark bird from a long way away?

For those of you who are not disgusted enough by a songbird appearing in this column, that is a lark. Yes, larks are probably the most widely-eaten songbird in existence. Nearly every culture in Europe has some record of eating larks, from the Romans to the British. Lark tongues were always seen as particularly valuable (perhaps because the birds sing well). It's not like the rest of the bird was wasted, though; oh, far from it.

The traditional way to eat a lark is to eat it whole - bones and all. I would advise de-feathering and cooking it first. If this sounds familiar, look up "ortolan." Just think of the larks as mini-chickens once you're past the "oh my gods, I'm eating a cute little birdie!" stage and bite after they've been out of the oven for a bit.  Or you could always put them in pies.

This is a pigeon pie. The recipe is basically the same.

Lark pie is one of those very, very old-fashioned dishes that people love to collect recipes for. The idea is the same as any given meat pie, so if you know how to make that, good for you. If not, there are plenty of recipes. Depending on what recipe you pick, you may be asked to hunt down anywhere from nine to three dozen larks. Also, if you like, put a bit of liver forcemeat in the larks - as if handling dead larks was not mortifying enough.

Also, "lark's tongue in aspic"is a legend - even I'm not sure if this one is real or not. Somebody attempted to make it using oyster as a substitute for rare lark meat. It would not surprise me if, in the days when larks were plentiful, someone had indeed made lark's tongue in aspic. This would involve a lot of larks to pull tongues out of, however, and that's darn near impossible to do today.

It's a little hard to find lark today if you want to try it. We have so much meat now that we have little need to eat songbirds. Larks themselves are also becoming rare due to habitat loss. There are, however, still a few markets and restaurants in Italy (and Southern Europe) that make lark dishes. Good luck finding them; it felt like Google was trolling me while attempting research for this entry. Lark Creek Steakhouse does not serve lark, unfortunately.

"They Actually Eat That:" Arugula.

"Arugula?" Well, the name certainly sounds exotic enough. It's also called "rocket," which can cause some befuddlement on English-language menus. These look an awful lot like dandelions to Americans, but they definitely are not. Dandelions are an all-American plant and are totally different. :)

Arugula (eruca, rocket, or roqette elsewhere; Eruca sativa) is a plant native to the Mediterranean, ranging from Morocco to Turkey. It has been used in Mediterranean salads for ages. The taste of arugula spread as far as India in the East and has also been very popular in Brazil. Only recently, however, has it become common enough in the U.S. to make it onto grocery store shelves.

Arugula is particularly popular in Italy. The Romans have been using it as a garnish, salad, and aphrodisiac since the days of the empire. Down in the Gulf of Naples, they even make digestive liquor out of arugula. Oh, and since Italian pizzas are totally in right now, you'll be seeing a lot more of it. (Before you say that's redundant: Italy has several unique pizzas that the U.S. is in the process of butchering.)

Arugula has a strong flavor for a leafy veggie. Spinach has a flavor, too, but arugula's stronger.  It has been described as "peppery," or "like cress," which I suppose suffices for those who have never tried it, but in the end, arugula is arugula. Trust me, if your salad has arugula and you've tasted it once before, you'll know it's in there. It's distinct from every other green out there.

Arugula is rich in potassium and Vitamin D. It also has a lot if dietary fiber and protein, so if you've been trying to stay away from meat, look into it. Just bear in mind that this particular green veggie does have a flavor all its own. Try it on a freshly-baked pizza; you might like it. :)

Creature Feature: Stumpy the Duck.

And now for something completely the same: A duck with four legs. 

Wait a second. Yesterday's entry was on hokey taxidermy; this duck has gotta be a hoax, right?

Nope. Stumpy the duck is a very real, farm-raised duck that just so happened to be born with four feet instead of two. He was hatched at Warrawee Duck Farm in Hampshire, Britain in February of 2007. Four legs on ducklings is not an unheard of condition, but what's amazing is that, unlike other malformed ducklings, Stumpy actually lived to adulthood.

As soon as Stumpy was hatched, scientists were interested in him. Stumpy's owner sent a tissue sample to a professor at the University of Chicago. They hope to use Stumpy's weird as hell genetics to cure genetic mutations in humans. We'd kinda like to know exactly which mutations they have in mind for this. It would let us know if they have eugenics and/or super-soldiers in mind.

Stumpy got his official name when he became a full-grown drake. The first leg got caught in a fence and had to be taken off, leaving only a stump; the second fell off naturally soon after. This is one of those freaks of nature that sorted itself out. We're sure that the Creationists are very pleased...or are they?

Stumpy is currently living as a normal duck would (unless he has been made into pate at this point). He has a girlfriend, Alice, and will hopefully yield many little ducklings. Will they be ugly ducklings like their daddy? Only time will tell. 

Now, That's Just Depressing: Harry Potter Fans and Owls.

It is a proven fact that people will buy pets based on what they see in the movies. It is slightly less provable that Harry Potter fans are insane as a rule - they have not done anything on par with the near-felonies that the Twilight fanbase is notorious for. At least, that was what I thought until this rather unpleasant piece of news hit the internet: 

"Pam Toothill, of the Owlcentre in Corwen, North Wales, said: “Before the films were out I had six owls, now it’s 100. It’s all down to ­Harry Potter.

“People saw ­Harry’s owl in the movies and thought how cute and cuddly they looked. Now they are bored and fed-up with all the work involved looking after an owl.

“They are quite costly to look after. Ideally you need a 20ft aviary, and that costs about £900.

“I know it’s not JK Rowling’s fault, but people didn’t think enough about buying an owl before getting one.

“Owls need enough space to be able to flap their wings five times before landing back on a perch, or they get a chest ­infection.

“But we had one lady who was keeping two owls in her bedside cabinet in her ­bedroom.

“And there was a chap with a ­European Eagle Owl, which has a 5ft wingspan, in his one-­bedroom flat. It’s insane.”

It is perfectly legal to keep an owl and no licence is needed. But anyone caught releasing a captive owl faces six months in jail or a £5,000 fine.

Thirty unwanted barn owls are among the 170 creatures being cared for at the Sanctuary Wildlife Care Centre at Ulgham, near Morpeth, Northumberland.

Owner Kim Olson said: “When people saw Harry Potter loads of them wanted an owl. They’ve kept them in their shed or garage for a bit and now they’ve got bored and they hand them in to us.

“It’s illegal to release an owl into the wild because they would take over from the native wild owls, but obviously a lot of people have ­ignored that law.”

Harry Potter author JK Rowling has pleaded with fans not to follow their hero and keep an owl as a pet.

“If anybody has been influenced by my books to think an owl would be happiest shut in a small cage and kept in a house, I would like to take this opportunity to say as forcefully as I can, ‘you are wrong’,” she has said.

“If your ­owl-mania seeks concrete ­expression, why not sponsor an owl at a bird ­sanctuary where you can visit and know that you have secured him or her a happy, healthy life.”

The Harry Potter owl craze echoes that of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle film in the early 1990s, when thousands of ­unwanted pet terrapins were dumped in Britain’s rivers, canals and lakes. "

Source: Mirror.co.uk. 

I honestly did not think people could be this stupid. I can understand impulse-buying a Dalmation after seeing 101 Dalmations, or a clownfish after watching Finding Nemo. Hell, I can understand buying a Burmese python more than what these people did. Owls aren't exactly common pets, nor were they a standard impulse buy like the occasional puppy, fish, or even python until Harry Potter came along. One would think that most people would be aware that owls have a specific diet and require a lot more space than a large parrot. This gives exotic pet owners and Potterheads alike a bad name.

Seriously, guys? J.K. Rowling was not writing a guide for owl husbandry when she wrote the books. The author has spoken against keeping owls like Harry Potter does. If you can't listen to the author's own wishes, what will you listen to?

"They Actually Eat That:" Lizards.

So, after my workout today, I caught a commercial for Geico car insurance. I love that little gecko. He has yet to sucker me into buying car insurance, but I still love him. Call me crazy, but I find lizards cute, especially when they're telling me how to save money.



Suddenly, I wondered: Would people in the modern day have the heart to eat such a creature? I could understand, say, China eating lizards (everything's on the menu there), but what about places that don't have such a knack for weird food?

Surprise, surprise. Lizard is actually a pretty popular food animal around the world. This is particularly so in places like Nicaragua, where eating lizards is so much a part of the culture that several species are threatened with extinction in the name of cuisine. They are believed to help people recover from illnesses. Oh, folk medicine, the species that will be lost because of you.

It turns out that Spain, of all places, has a thing for lizard cuisine. They make a dish with the ocellated lizard in Extremadura, Spain. It's called lagarto con tomate - lizard with tomatoes. It involves slicing up the lizards, frying them in olive oil, and then stewing them with tomatoes and onions. I hate to admit it, but this one actually sounds really good!



Let's not leave China out of this. I mean, really, it's not like we didn't see China coming, but they do eat lizards. Lizards, after all, are alive and plentiful in China. That's enough to put them on the menu. Granted, we in America are probably the weird ones for not eating lizards.

Sorry, but they sell us car insurance. Cutely. 

"They Actually Eat That:" Turtle Soup.

If you have ever read/watched a non-Disney version of Alice in Wonderland, you might have heard of a little something called "turtle soup." In Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, a gryphon and a mock turtle (to be discussed later) sing about the joy that is turtle soup.

But that's just Alice in Wonderland's doing, right? That book has trials about stolen tarts and other crazy things. For all we know, turtle soup might be something Carroll thought up while on drugs. I mean, who would think that a turtle would be appetizing? Right?



Nnnnope! Turtle soup is unfortunately very real, and is enjoyed by almost every continent with access to turtles. Freshwater, saltwater, doesn't matter - if a place has turtles, there is a good chance it has turtle soup. It's usually made with the meat or blood of a turtle. Hell, turtle soup is one of the few foods the U.S. has in common with Europe and China.

That said, turtle soup is illegal in most parts of the United States (which is probably why it's so obscure here). Back before we cared about things like sustainability,  the ideal turtle for soup required a turtle that was around ten pounds in weight. When we say "turtle" in this case, by the way, we are usually talking about either snapping turtles or green sea turtles. Yes, those sea turtles are the exact same kind that you see burying eggs on nature channels. Most of them are endangered, and a lot of other turtle species are vulnerable to over-hunting. Now you know why this soup's illegal in the States.

China is a whole different story. In China, soft-shelled turtles are farmed more or less sustainably. Hard-shelled turtles are avoided in soup for a number of reasons, but can still be made into jelly. Turtle soup is popular in China and Singapore to the degree that China has over 1,500 registered turtle farms. They're probably more economical and ecologically-friendly than pigs and cattle, but don't quote me on it.



As for Europe, they not only have turtle soup, but also...mock turtle soup. Technically, the 'turtle' singing in the Alice story is a mock turtle. Although no good description is given in the book, the artist drew the not-turtle as a bizarre mix between sea turtle and calf. The reason for this? Mock turtle soup utilizes a calf's less-palatable parts, such as the brains, horns, and hooves, in its making:

"Mrs. Fowle's Mock Turtle Soup,:^[3] "Take a large calf's head. Scald off the hair. Boil it until the horn is tender, then cut it into slices about the size of your finger, with as little lean as possible. Have ready three pints of good mutton or veal broth, put in it half a pint of Madeira wine, half a teaspoonful of thyme, pepper, a large onion, and the peel of a lemon chop't very small. A ¼ of a pint of oysters chop't very small, and their liquor; a little salt, the juice of two large onions, some sweet herbs, and the brains chop't. Stand all these together for about an hour, and send it up to the table with the forcemeat balls made small and the yolks of hard eggs." (Wikipedia. citing an old cookbook.)

Yeah. I'd take real turtle soup over that any day.