Narrator: Foie gras has been a symbol
of culinary luxury for centuries.
It was once a dish for royalty
and a staple of high-end French restaurants.
But for many, the force-feeding of ducks and geese
to expand their livers is animal cruelty.
Several countries have outlawed production,
and now parts of the US are banning the sale of it, too.
Leader: NYC!
Protesters: Ban foie gras!
Narrator: But foie gras farmers say
there is nothing wrong with what they're doing.
Marcus: How can we be judged by people
who have no experience with what we do
or with animals, for that matter?
Narrator: We visited one of the last foie gras farms
in the US to see how the ducks are raised and fed
and to ask the big question:
Is this the end of the line for foie gras,
or can it make a comeback?
Foie gras literally means "fat liver."
It's a rich, decadent, and expensive food.
It has long been a staple of French cuisine,
but its roots can actually be traced back to ancient Egypt.
Depictions of Egyptians force-feeding geese
dates as far back as 2500 BC,
and in 30 BC, the Roman poet Horace
wrote of fattening geese with figs.
The practice found a home in France,
where the story goes that King Louis XVI
proclaimed it a "dish of kings."
In the 1800s, French chefs began creating elaborate dishes,
like this sculpture with a Roman goddess
over a base of foie gras.
And by the turn of the 20th century,
French culinary textbooks
listed hundreds of ways to cook and eat it.
It wasn't long before the delicacy started to take root
in high-end restaurants in the US.
Foie gras imported from France
cost around $18 per pound in 1949.
That's over $200 today.
Announcer: Goose liver paste with truffles.
We've got it here, and it's almost worth its weight in gold.
Narrator: Production rose as machines began to replace
the hand-crank method of force-feeding.
Israel emerged as a competitor in the foie gras market
and exported $12 million worth in 1979.
Soon after that, the US also started producing it.
At first, it was just one farm in New York.
Ariane: One day, those farmers came and said
that they were starting the first foie gras farm
from ducks in America, and I got very excited.
Narrator: Ariane Daguin comes from six generations
of foie gras farmers, restaurateurs, and chefs.
Ariane: I've been born in that reverence
and respect for that ingredient.
Narrator: In 1985, she started a company
to distribute foie gras in the US.
Ariane: I was very conscious that the market
was potentially immense, America,
but started from zero because nobody knew
what foie gras was.
Narrator: Within its first decade,
the company's annual sales climbed to $15 million.
Ariane: It wasn't long before three-stars, four-stars restaurants
had some kind of foie gras on the menu.
Narrator: Hudson Valley Foie Gras opened in 1990.
By 1998, the farm was producing
an estimated 220 tons of foie gras every year.
But we'll come back to Marcus and his ducks later.
By the '90s, the campaign against force-feeding
was well underway.
Protesters: Stop the torture, stop the pain!
Narrator: Animal rights groups like PETA
staged force-feeding demonstrations on humans
and called for boycotts of foie gras.
By 2003, 10 countries had banned
the force-feeding of animals, including Israel,
which was the third-largest producer
of foie gras at the time.
A decade later, India became the first country in the world
to ban not only the production,
but also the import and sale of foie gras.
In 2018, activists ran a campaign
to do the same thing in New York City.
Voters for Animal Rights
worked with council member Carlina Rivera
to introduce legislation banning the sale of foie gras.
This is a really, really big day for animal rights.
Narrator: It passed in 2019 with 42 votes
and will take effect in late 2022.
When the bill passed,
it was just a moment that I'll never forget.
Narrator: But the bill could be a disaster
for producers just a few hours north of the city.
Hudson Valley Foie Gras is one of the only producers
left in the US.
Marcus Henley has worked on the farm for over 20 years.
We're good farmers.
We deeply believe in what we do.
Narrator: He estimates that the ban
could cost the company 25% of sales.
Right now, the farm gets a shipment
of 10,000 new ducklings every week,
3,000 of which are for foie gras.
These specially bred moulard ducklings
are only two days old.
Once they are four weeks old, they moved to another barn.
Marcus: There were four weeks in the nursery,
eight weeks here in the growing barn
before they go to the gavage.
Narrator: The gavage is the force-feeding process,
the part that's the most controversial.
The ducks are fed a mixture of corn and soy
three times per day for three weeks.
Marcus: We're not harming them.
We're making them happy by feeding them.
Narrator: But some veterinarians disagree.
Eileen: It is definitely an injurious process,
and it actually amazes me
that people are willing to say otherwise.
Narrator: Marcus says the force-feeding
replicates how wild ducks will gorge on food
before migration.
Eileen: When the liver enlarges to 10 times its normal size
during this force-feeding,
that's not what happens
with migratory birds and migratory ducks.
And when you have a liver that's enlarged like that,
the cells are impaired.
Narrator: The duck's liver weighs nearly 2 pounds
at the end of the force-feeding period.
Eileen: There's obviously an economic impetus
to keep producing foie gras.
The medical information has been there for a long time,
and that's being overridden by the incentive
to just keep producing it for human consumption.
Narrator: One of the largest markets
for Hudson Valley's foie gras is New York City.
Some of the livers are sold whole,
while others are turned into products like these torchons.
Jenny Chamberlain is a chef
who works on developing recipes at Hudson Valley.
Jenny: We have people here
that I'd put up against any French chef
to roll a torchon.
Narrator: The ban will hit them hard.
Jenny: This could bring us down, you know. It's New York City.
Narrator: And more than anything,
Jenny and Marcus feel that it is unfair.
Jenny: It was the most heartbreaking thing
that nobody came to see our farm, our practices.
Marcus: We don't mind being judged,
but we would like to be judged fairly.
Narrator: They're also worried about the big picture.
Jenny: This is very dangerous for agriculture.
You have the choice to eat what you want.
And where does it end if it starts
with the low-hanging fruit, you know,
what's been made hysterical and often misrepresented?
Then what's next?
Is it chicken?
Is it ...
Narrator: Ariane's sales will be hit, too.
But she's more concerned about what it will mean
for the culinary world.
Ariane: It would be a disaster as far as gastronomy.
A restaurant that doesn't have foie gras on the menu
is like a painter who cannot use a color.
Narrator: One alternative might be foie gras
that's made without force-feeding.
A farm in Spain produces foie gras from geese
that overfeed themselves,
and another startup in Paris is growing foie gras in a lab.
For animal activists,
it could be a step in the right direction.
Matthew: It's not something I particularly find interesting
and something I want a part of my diet,
but at the end of the day, if we can remove the suffering,
we are going to be in a better place.
Narrator: Still, the amount of foie gras
made in North America pales in comparison
to production in France.
And even as some countries turn away
from producing or consuming foie gras,
others are there to take their place.
But Marcus and Ariane are still fighting
the New York City ban.
Ariane: We haven't given up.
I don't think it's going to happen.
Marcus: It is my firm belief that it won't come to pass.
Narrator: And the battle looks to be far from over.
Matthew: I think that they're going to fight this tooth and nail,
but what they don't realize is that we're not giving up,
and we're not going anywhere.