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Guardian.co.uk, Friday August 7th 2009: Why we shouldn't eat frogs' legs
Every year, the French nibble away at 4,000 tonnes of frogs' legs. But that's nothing compared with the vast number being eaten in Asia, South America and even the US. And it's pushing the world's frog population towards extinction, says Jon Henley.
In the cavernous community hall of the Vosges spa town of Vittel, a large and lugubrious man, his small, surprisingly chirpy wife, and 450 other people are sitting down to their evening meal. It's rather noisy. "Dunno why we do it, really," shouts the man, whose name is Jacky. "Don't taste of anything, do they? White. Insipid. If it wasn't for the sauce it'd be like eating some soft sort of rubber. Just the kind of food an Englishman should like, in fact. Hah."
Outside, the streets are filled with revellers. A funfair is going full swing. The restaurants along the high street are full, and queues have formed before the stands run by the local football, tennis, basketball, rugby and youth clubs.
All offer the same thing: cuisses de grenouilles à la provencale (with garlic and parsley), cuisses de grenouille à la poulette (egg and cream). Seven euros, or thereabouts, for a paper plateful, with fries. Nine with a beer or a glass of not-very-chilled riesling. The more daring are offering cuisses de grenouilles à la vosgienne, à l'andalouse, à l'ailloli. There's pizza grenouille, quiche grenouille, tourte grenouille. Omelette de grenouilles aux fines herbes. Souffle, cassolette and gratin de grenouilles.
Continued:Why We Shouldn't Eat Frog's Legs
Every year, the French nibble away at 4,000 tonnes of frogs' legs. But that's nothing compared with the vast number being eaten in Asia, South America and even the US. And it's pushing the world's frog population towards extinction, says Jon Henley.
In the cavernous community hall of the Vosges spa town of Vittel, a large and lugubrious man, his small, surprisingly chirpy wife, and 450 other people are sitting down to their evening meal. It's rather noisy. "Dunno why we do it, really," shouts the man, whose name is Jacky. "Don't taste of anything, do they? White. Insipid. If it wasn't for the sauce it'd be like eating some soft sort of rubber. Just the kind of food an Englishman should like, in fact. Hah."
Outside, the streets are filled with revellers. A funfair is going full swing. The restaurants along the high street are full, and queues have formed before the stands run by the local football, tennis, basketball, rugby and youth clubs.
All offer the same thing: cuisses de grenouilles à la provencale (with garlic and parsley), cuisses de grenouille à la poulette (egg and cream). Seven euros, or thereabouts, for a paper plateful, with fries. Nine with a beer or a glass of not-very-chilled riesling. The more daring are offering cuisses de grenouilles à la vosgienne, à l'andalouse, à l'ailloli. There's pizza grenouille, quiche grenouille, tourte grenouille. Omelette de grenouilles aux fines herbes. Souffle, cassolette and gratin de grenouilles.
Continued:Why We Shouldn't Eat Frog's Legs