Home » Thoughts on Turkey Day: why don’t we eat swans anymore?

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Thoughts on Turkey Day: why don’t we eat swans anymore? — 7 Comments

  1. When I read the title I just knew you would get into this, if not exactly what your points would be. Teh ballet girl nerd in you is showing. 🙂 Oh, no worries, just chuckling. It’s cute to sort of suspect and have it turn out. Almost a knowledge, in passing… a connection that is pleasant.

    And, still, I must debate the issue. Ballet has no part to play. It is family size shrinkage, and for a time rarity which drove prices up. I do duck, if cooking for two, turkey for four or more. I have even done goose, though never swan (simply wasn’t available, or anywhere I shopped). Though price through scarcity might be a problem? Without trying it, I can’t be sure about actual size problems (might not fit in an standard oven?), and might leave far too many leftovers?

    All I am suggesting, is that it is probably technical problems more than taste or ballet. Still chuckling…

  2. heh. Because Carl Orff?

    (taught us to look at the matter from inside the oven)

    Olim lacus colueram,
    olim pulcher extiteram
    dum cignus ego fueram.
    Miser, miser!
    modo niger
    et ustus fortiter!

    Once in lakes I made my home,
    once I dwelt in beauty;
    that was when I was a swan.
    Alas, poor me!
    Now I am black
    and roasted to a turn!

    Girat, regirat garcifer;
    me rogus urit fortiter:
    propinat me nunc dapifer,
    Miser, miser!
    modo niger
    et ustus fortiter!

    On the spit I turn and turn;
    the fire roasts me through.
    Now I am presented at the feast;
    alas, poor me!
    Now I am black
    and roasted to a turn!

    Nunc in scutella iaceo,
    et volitare nequeo,
    dentes frendentes video:
    Miser, miser!
    modo niger
    et ustus fortiter!

    Now in a serving dish I lie,
    and can no longer fly.
    Gnashing teeth confront me.
    Alas, poor me!
    Now I am black
    and roasted to a turn!

  3. Did a goose once. All dark meat. Superb! And, per Fanny Farmer, pricked the skin all over to let the fat drain out. It is pure white. Possibly as a result of its privilege it makes the best biscuits I ever had.

  4. Over here we don’t eat swans because the Queen owns them all and it’s a prosecutable offence. As one immigrant found out recently…

  5. “If you want to know how it tastes, it’s “delicious – deep red, lean, lightly gamey, moist, and succulent.”

    There’s something about the word “succulent” that always introduces a bit of nausea in my heart.

  6. We are privileged to have a female swan on our lake. (It is sad that she has no mate.) My point, however, is that she has taught us much about swan behavior, and we have learned that a ballerina copies typical swan moves. Now Swan Lake means something different to us.

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