Hudson Valley Foie Gras says its namesake product is humane—and it wants the City Council to see for itself.
The farm called on council members to visit its Sullivan County facilities during a heated six-hour hearing last month on a bill that would required to make foie gras is nothing short of animal torture—all for the sake of a product few can afford.
With the bill, the council is wading into a debate that has stretched on for decades across countless cities and statehouses. California is the only state with an active ban on the product, but Chicago, Philadelphia and lawmakers in Albany all have weighed similar measures.
The bill's author, Councilwoman Carlina Rivera, said she is trying to create a "more humane city."
"This is something that is truly a luxury product. It is served in roughly 1% of New York City restaurants," Rivera said during the hearing. "And there are alternatives."
The city represents about a third of Hudson Valley Foie Gras' sales, said Izzy Yanay, who helped found the company in 1990. He said the ban could devastate the industry, a major economic driver for the entire county.
Yanay has produced foie gras for four decades, first in Israel, then in Sullivan County. He says the activists who oppose his product have integrity and passion, but he insists that their arguments about his farming techniques are untrue.
"But why believe them or us?" Yanay said. "Send someone to see it with their own eyes before you make a decision that will affect the world."
The council has yet to send an envoy on the roughly 110-mile trip to visit the Hudson Valley Foie Gras farm—which, despite its moniker, is actually in the Catskills, tucked away on Chicken Plant Road in the town of Liberty, population 9,462. Hudson Valley is one of two farms that produce nearly all the foie gras consumed in the United States. The other is a Sullivan County neighbor, La Belle Farm. The two collectively employ about 400 people.
The 200-acre Hudson Valley farm processes more than 500,000 Moulard ducks each year, with $36 million in annual sales. During a tour this month, farm manager Marcus Henley guided a reporter and a photographer through various stages of the process, including the force-feeding.
About 10,000 day-old ducklings arrive every Thursday from Canada. They are raised cage-free inside barns for 12 weeks before being sent to a penned-in barn for force-feeding. That barn did not include any of the cages the farm has been accused of using, but it did confine the animals in a smaller space.
Starting at 12 weeks old, the ducks are force-fed three times daily for up to 21 days. The feeding involves a rubber tube that an employee slides down a duck's throat before pumping in a mix of soy and corn. By the end of the force- feeding period, the duck's liver grows to 10 times its original size. The animal is then slaughtered for foie gras and other products, almost all of which are commodified.
Henley, who has managed the farm for nearly 20 years, insists that force-feeding a duck is different from doing the same to a human. Moulard ducks are bred to produce large livers and have strong esophagi that can withstand the rubber tube used in the feeding, he said.
Veterinarian Holly Cheever, vice president of the New York State Humane Association, who visited the farm in 1997, disagrees.
"We don't do anything this brutal to any other animal on the face of Mother Earth," she said in an interview.
Cheever joined a list of more than a dozen speakers who argued in favor of the ban at the council hearing. Opponents say force-feeding traumatizes the ducks, diseases their livers and can cause serious health complications.
Germany, Israel, the United Kingdom and at least a dozen other countries have banned foie gras production.
Force-feeding, and the controversy surrounding it, dates back centuries. There's evidence ancient Egyptians fattened geese for meat, and there are allusions to liver-fattening in The Odyssey.
Banning foie gras in New York City "would send a very strong signal across the country and around the world," said Gene Baur, president and co-founder of Farm Sanctuary, a Finger Lakes rescue farm and advocacy group. "The city is known for being a thought leader."
A spokesman for Rivera said she does not plan to visit Hudson Valley. She has heard "concerns regarding the validity of the tours" the farm provides, said the spokesman, who shared a flyer distributed to the council that accuses Hudson Valley Foie Gras of "orchestrating" tours for the media that don't show the full extent of the operation.
"We are very careful to make sure that we show everything to everyone," Henley said in response. "Our only defense is our transparency."
It's not clear when the full council will vote on the bill, which has 28 co-sponsors. Several farm representatives and Sullivan County business owners spoke in the industry's defense at the hearing. But the farm's main potential allies, the chefs who serve foie gras at city restaurants, have stayed out of the debate.
"We are trying not to put our friends in a position [where] they could be negatively impacted," Henley said. "We certainly hope they are calling the council directly."
The city's main restaurant lobbying group, the NYC Hospitality Alliance, also is treading carefully. Andrew Rigie, executive director, said via email, "We'll continue our conversations and monitor the legislation."
Baur said that opponents are not "anti-farmer but anti-cruelty." He compares foie gras production to other industries, such as whaling and tobacco, that have suffered under shifting societal priorities. "This is part of a much bigger discussion," he said. "What kind of agricultural economy ultimately makes sense?"
Elected officials in Sullivan County said they want their city counterparts to consider the damage the loss of jobs and tax revenue could bring to the rural county of about 75,000 people. "They have to understand what they are doing to us," said Luis Alvarez, chairman of the county Legislature.