I always assumed (correctly it turns out) that chicken feet and other undesirable parts of animals ended up in pet food. Sure enough, U. S. pet food companies mix a few feet in with the "beak and fin" that make their way into Fido's food bowl. But, the reason they end up there, along with the "lips and assholes" (as my son so eloquently describes the contents of pet food), is that there is absolutely no other market for them in the U. S. Be honest. When is the last time you ordered chicken feet at your favorite dining establishment?
Not so in China, where every part of every edible animal and plant is fair game for the comestible market. It turns out, in fact, that chicken claws (as they are called in China) are something of a delicacy, most desired for their crunchy texture when deep-fried. So, the American poultry processing industry, never one to pass up an economic opportunity, has been exporting chicken claws to China by the bucket load. Since they are essentially a give-away at home, finding a market that pays even a small amount for them has stimulated an incredible volume of trade--over 300 thousand tons to date.
Now China is crying fowl (sorry for the pun). Even though American chicken claws are of superior quality--cleaner and more robust than locally produced or imported claws from other suppliers--Chinese chicken ranchers are upset because they cannot compete with what they see as "subsidized" products from U.S. competitors. They complain that chicken farmers in American use grain that is cheaper because of government subsidies to grow healthier chickens that have bigger feet. And then these high quality feet find their way to Chinese markets at lower prices, thus sabotaging local producers who are losing market share because they have been used to demanding higher prices for their inferior product.
I have some personal experience with the Chinese propensity to eat anything and everything that can be harvested from fish or fowl or farm. In 1988, my wife and I traveled to China with a group of engineering students from the university where she teaches. At that time, the country was still in the throes of recovery from the Cultural Revolution and other of Chairman Mao's social and economic experiments. Bicycles were the main mode of transportation. Beijing had one western restaurant, a Kentucky Fried Chicken outlet close to Tianmen Square (only breasts, thighs, and drumsticks). The food we ate during our 30 days in country was entirely local.
The first formal meal we were served, my wife and I and another professor sat with the local functionaries at a round table, gamely trying each of the dishes that were placed on the lazy susan. When the duck tongue soup course arrived early on, it was accompanied by a plate with the head of the duck neatly bisected exposing the brains. After some awkward hesitation and much jabbering amongst our hosts, who seemed all to be looking to us to make the first move, we discovered through the translator that duck brains are reserved for the highest ranking person at the table. Local protocol designated us, as honored guests, most deserving of the delicacy.
Having resolved before the trip to try every food offered to us, I was willing to snap up a little brain with my chopsticks, but on this occasion I deferred to our professor friend, who was a longtime China hand, to accept the honor. He was still jet-lagged, as we all were, and no doubt had some experiences with Chinese food that screamed caution, and he very politely insisted that our hosts dig in. Which they did, with a gustatory zeal I would witness often in the coming weeks--entirely justifiable in a country that had been subject to frequent food shortages a decade ago. What the incident foreshadowed was a trip full of highly unusual (for us) cuisine.
Eating local foods reveals a lot about, and sometimes more than, a person needs to know about a culture. I had studied modern Chinese history for a year before embarking on our 1988 trip, and I knew something of the famines that plagued the countryside during the warlord period and under Maoist rule. Peasants resorted to eating tree bark to survive. These stretches of deprivation were nothing new. Chinese history chronicles one period of starvation after another.
No wonder, then, the willingness to put unusual foodstuffs on the menu. But, to the credit of Chinese chefs, even the most bizarre foods are seasoned and sauteed and served with style, if you have the stomach for them. Among the delicacies that I tasted on our trip:
- Roasted baby birds. Beaks and legs (but no feathers, thankfully) included. These, I discovered, are eaten with chopsticks, feet first, saving the crunchiest and tastiest parts (the head and beak) for last.
- Turtle soup. This dish is common around the world, but I am guessing that only in China are the head and tail of the turtle thrown into the mix. As the elder statesmen at most of the meals we ate, I had the honor of serving food to others. When I dipped a ladle into the turtle soup we ate in Changsha, it came up with a soggy turtle head staring blankly back at me. Not appetizing.
- Various boiled or baked fish, served whole and unscaled. The most unsettling feature of these dishes is the eye of the fish staring at the diners. Fish eyes, it turns out, are the most desirable part of the creature. Despite a willingness to try everything, I never ate a fish eye. I did, however, munch on cheek steaks, the meaty flesh under the fish's gill cover. Tender and tasty.
- Stinky tofu. This was Mao's favorite dish. I believe we also had this in Changsha, his birthplace. The smell preceded the tofu. The waiter set a plate of blackened, putrified bean curd on the lazy susan and everyone at the table nearly fainted from the odor, something akin to sweat-soaked socks and the smell you remember when they removed your arm cast after six weeks without a shower. Turns out, the tofu is injected with a bacteria to cause spoilage and discoloration. And you still don't understand why Chinese menus feature chicken feet?
Another memorable Chinese meal I recall was served, quite unexpectedly, in Poland. During my college semester in Europe in the 1960's, our class traveled to Warsaw and Krakow on a field trip. A group of us went out one night to a Chinese restaurant at the urging of one of our classmates, who was from Taiwan. When the chef discovered that a Mandarin speaker was among his clients, he came out to talk. After a few minutes of animated reminiscing, my classmate told us that the chef would prepare a 10-course meal for us at a bargain price (about $3/person, as I recall).
The food was amazing, definitely one of the most interesting meals I had in Europe during my six months there. It was also weird. One course was sea cucumbers, which I still recall as having the taste and texture of a bleached inner tube.
In the end, we all value the familiar. When our China group finally emerged in Hong Kong from 30 days on the mainland, we headed to . . . Pizza Hut. We were dying for a cheesy treat and all of us overate that first night out of the Middle Kingdom. Many Chinese are lactose intolerant and so cheese is not a part of their diet. But, the place was packed with locals, mostly young people in their 20's and 30's by the look of them. They were not there to eat pizza. Instead they were in competition to see who could load up the most at the salad bar, everyone mounding an impressive dome of veggies and garnishes on the single-serving plates the restaurant allowed--lettuce, olives, bean sprouts, beets, garbanzos, onions, cherry tomatoes, peppers, seeds, hard-boiled eggs, and dressings. But no chicken claws.
I am wondering, at this minute, whether cross-cultural delights are now featured in the dozens of western fast food outlets that have invaded the mainland since my most recent visit to China in 2003. If so, they are no doubt toned down, the way kung pao chicken has been manipulated to suit American tastes. But wouldn't it be another measure of how adaptable we are as a species if I returned to Beijing, headed to a branch of Burger King, and actually said "yes" to the attendant's request:
"Would you like chicken claws with your burger?"
"Would you like chicken claws with your burger?"
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