This week on French Food Fight Friday, I'm actually ready to start a fight: against the US government, which, for the most part, does not allow the serving of wild game in restaurants. France, by contrast (
vive la différence!)
celebrates the preparation and consumption of wild game this time of year. Restaurants have relationships with hunters, who bring their freshly-caught game to the back door, slung over their shoulder, still warm and furry. But in our antiseptic, overly-regulated culture, everything we consume has to be slaughtered and wrapped in plastic before we are allowed to eat it.
Among the rules French hunters abide by:
- "Female birds are to be venerated, not killed"
- "Quality partridge should have the fresh smell of an infant’s diaper" (a clean diaper, that is)
Read the full story on hunters and French diners, and sigh with regret.
And I don't think they mean Pampers. Viva la cloth diaper, washed and hung out to dry on a clothes line in the fresh air. Pam
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