Two days ago I found myself in a Whole Foods hungry and in a mood where I guess I was open to trying new things. I passed the seafood counter and noticed large brown escargot available for 79 cents each. Never had ’em before. Never wanted ’em before. But that day I bought two. Not bad. I might try them again. I’ve been lucky throughout my life to have the opportunity to experience new foods. In Thailand I was served fresh jumping snake by hillside villagers. In Montana I had my first and so far only taste of bison. Currently I live adjacent to neighborhoods with restaurants representing just about every culture in the world. I can’t always afford to eat in them but I can certainly press my face to their windows. Window shopping is what I primarily do at one particular store in my area that is famous for its meats, cheeses, oils and pasta from around the world. I am used to viewing on its shelves kangaroo, Kobe beef, ostrich, rabbit, venison, bison, frog legs, duck and every now and then plain ol’ chicken. I have come to expect the “exotic” but I did not expect the lion. In fact, I thought the label on the package had a typo. But the butcher made clear that there had been no typo. The store was indeed offering up African lion by the steak.
A gentleman standing next to me said softly, “I don’t know what to think about that.” Many days later I’m not sure what to think either. When I speak about this with other people, the ensuing conversation has little to do with legalities or food safety. It quickly becomes a conversation of ideology about food and perception of the lion. Just as I had been curious about the taste of snails, there were people I spoke with who were curious about the taste of lion. Other people were enraged at the thought that such a majestic predatory beast was being served up … like deer. And there were others who were saddened to learn that an animal so important to the culture of a people (the Maasai) was being “farm-raised” so to speak for American palates. Everyone with whom I spoke were meat-eaters. And they all recognized that for every point they made, there was a counter point. So, at present, I’m left with feeling that it all just comes down to perspective, understanding what I value about my food and why, and being open to engaging with others about their beliefs.
Each geisha kimono is partially composed of nature photography — the images printed on acid free paper and then applied as dictated by Zoe’s overall design. Once completed, her two geisha will represent the span and overlap of all four seasons.
Words + Images 