Eating the Birds of America
Audubon’s Culinary Reviews of America’s Birds
On June 26, 1826, John James Audubon sat aboard the cotton schooner Delos off of Florida’s Gulf coast, en route from New Orleans to Liverpool, where he was hoping to find a publisher for his extensive portfolio of paintings of American birds.[1] On this particular day, the winds were still, leaving Audubon’s boat to rock with the waves, making no forward progress. Audubon sat on deck with the ship’s crew, watching a group of small black and white birds skimming above the waves. Since they had sailed beyond the mouth of the Mississippi and entered the Gulf, Audubon had observed growing numbers of these birds, watching as they searched the open seas for floating patches of vegetation. As they watched a small flock fly near their boat, the ship’s mate raised a gun and brought down four of the birds with one blast of birdshot. At Audubon’s request, he then brought them on board. This was the first time that Audubon was able to examine the birds up close, extend their wings with his hands, and run his fingers through their feathers. Audubon recorded careful notes of the details of its plumage, beak, eyes, wings, and claws. He skinned each of the birds before dissecting them and noting the contents of their stomach, finding them full of fish in various states of digestion. He then took one final measure of the bird, writing that “the flesh of this Petrel was fat, but tough, with a strong smell, and unfit for food; for, on tasting it, as is my practice, I found it to resemble that of the porpoises.”[2]
In this passage, Audubon was describing a bird that he called the Dusky Petrel, which was not one that often made its way onto the plates of sailors or into market stalls. The bird was, in fact, not yet known to science, and if Audubon was not the first person to sample its meat, he was likely the first to describe the bird in writing. Audubon assumed that the slender, charcoal-colored bird was the same species as one that had first been described in the Pacific 40 years previously. In fact, he was taking detailed notes on a related bird that was not yet known to science. This fact was recognized in 1872, and the bird was renamed Audubon’s Shearwater in recognition of his discovery.[3]
Whether birds were large or small, familiar or obscure, palatable or nauseating, Audubon made sampling their meat a part of his extensive process of studying America’s birds for his Ornithological Biography, or, An account of the habits of the birds of the United States of America, a five-volume text that would accompany the 435 paintings that composed his Birds of America, for which he gained his fame. Alongside a description of each bird’s appearance, diet, behavior, and breeding habits, Audubon frequently included a reflection on the taste of the bird’s flesh.
Throughout the 19th century, wild birds were a common part of both rural and urban cuisine. In 1867, Thomas De Voe included an inventory of all of the birds he had seen for sale in the markets of Boston, Philadelphia, and New York, which included some 36 species of waterfowl, 57 varieties of shorebird and upland game, and 27 kinds of songbirds, for a total of 120 species of birds.[4] Yet by sampling the majority of the 435 birds he painted for his Birds of America (mostly based on birds he had taxidermied and posed himself), Audubon far exceeded the variety of birds even the most accomplished gourmand might have possibly eaten. John James Audubon, without a doubt, holds the record for “most species of American birds eaten.”
Since 1918, it has been a federal crime to “pursue, hunt, take, capture, kill, attempt to take, capture, or kill, possess, offer for sale, sell, offer to barter, barter, offer to purchase, purchase” or do really anything else with the bodies of most migratory birds,[5] with the exception of a few species designated as game, meaning that Audubon’s record is definitively safe. Safe too are most birds, at least from diners with adventurous palates. That being said, Audubon did provide a fascinating eater’s guide to America’s birds, which is an informative read for all of us who will (happily!) never have the opportunity to dine on Bald Eagle, or for that matter, Passenger Pigeon. So without further ado, here is a sampling of Audubon’s reviews of the culinary merits of America’s birds.[6]
Game Birds
First, Audubon shared his opinions about the many birds categorized as game, which would have been commonly eaten in his day. Audubon considered the meat from Ring-necked Ducks and Common Eiders to be “excellent” ; that of the Cackling Goose “exquisite”, and the Barnacle Goose “sweet and tender, and highly esteemed for the table.” Ruddy Ducks “provide good eating when fat and young.” Wood Ducks are at their best in the Fall, when Audubon found them to be tender and juicy. Audubon was much less fond of other waterfowl, finding the Bufflehead “fishy and disagreeable,” the Common Goldeneye “unfit for being eaten” (although he found their eggs delicious), and the Surf Scoter “tough, rank, and fishy, so as to be scarcely fit for food.” The Hooded Merganser too “has a fishy taste and odour, although it is relished by some persons.”
After the Wild Turkey, Audubon’s favorite upland game bird to eat was the Ruffed Grouse, which were best taken in September after spending a summer feeding on mountain Huckleberries and Whortleberries. Meat from Mourning Doves was “remarkably fine, when they are obtained young and in the proper season.” The White-crowned Pigeon, found in the Florida Keys, is the most skittish bird which Audubon encountered, which he reasoned was due to the “continued war waged against them, their flesh being juicy, well flavoured, and generally tender, even in old birds.” When they feed on grasshoppers and strawberries, Upland Sandpipers are “truly delicious.” When fed on cantharides, however, they can become quite noxious if not cleaned properly, a situation which caused several New Orleans acquaintances of Audubon to leave their dinner expeditiously, “suffer[ing] greatly”, under circumstances which, Audubon wrote, “cannot well be described here.” Audubon claimed that Woodcocks were considered such fine dishes that some who he called epicures ate these birds “with all their viscera, worms and insects to boot, the intestines in fact being considered the most savoury parts.” Audubon, for his part, never joined in this practice.
Backyard Birds
Audubon also tried just about every songbird and backyard bird, big or small, whether they were commonly eaten at the time or not. Robins, which he considered “fat and juicy, and afford excellent eating,” were hunted and eaten widely throughout the south, as were Bobolinks, which have “extremely tender and juicy” flesh. Brown-headed Cowbirds were also shot in large numbers, and Audubon considered them “more delicate and better flavoured than the species with which they associate, excepting the Robin”. The Louisiana Waterthrush, which is much less common of a bird, “becomes so plump as to be a pure mass of fat” during the winter, and “furnishes extremely delicate eating.” Orchard Orioles make good eating in the early fall, and according to Audubon are a favorite of the “Creoles of Louisiana.” The meat of Purple Finches was “equal to that of any other small bird.” Vesper Sparrows have “juicy, tender and savoury” flesh, but while Swamp Sparrows are fat and tender, their flesh is “sedgy.”
Common Grackles have flesh that is “little better than that of the Crow, being dry and ill-flavoured” (although he found their eggs to be “quite delicate”). Nevertheless, Audubon reports with some curiosity that grackles were “frequently used, with the addition of one or two Golden-winged Woodpeckers or Redwings, to make what is here called pot pie, even amidst a profusion of so many better things.” Blackbirds weren’t the only birds that ended up baked in pies. An acquaintance of Audubon’s shipped a basket of Cedar Waxwings to New Orleans as a Christmas present, only to find that “the steward of the steamer, in which they were shipped, made pies of them for the benefit of the passengers.” Audubon found the flesh of most types of woodpeckers to taste too much like ants, but Northern Flickers were nevertheless frequently eaten by hunters and occasionally sold in markets. Although the Whip-poor-will was rarely killed because it is “too small to be sought as an article of food,” Audubon still sampled its meat, which he deemed “savoury.”
Seabirds and Shorebirds
Audubon found the meat from Wood Storks to be too tough and oily to eat, but wrote that in Louisiana they were skinned, cooked, and eaten. Meat from Roseate Spoonbills was “oily and poor eating.” Puffins were so tough and fishy that Audubon could only recommend their meat to those facing desperate circumstances (a judgment he also passed on the American Oystercatcher and American White Pelican), and their eggs were not much better. The Magnificent Frigatebird was “unfit for any other person than one in a state of starvation.” Belted Kingfisher eggs make fine eating, but their meat is “extremely fishy, oily, and disagreeable.” Cormorants were perhaps the only bird that Audubon did not taste, and he intended to avoid doing so until such a time as “nothing better could be procured” – a situation he must have considered truly desperate.
Audubon found Loons to be “not very palatable,” with their meat “being tough, rank, and dark coloured.” This opinion was not shared by all, however, as Audubon had “seen it much relished by many lovers of good-living, especially at Boston, where it was not infrequently served almost raw.” Black Terns are “tolerably good.” Fishermen and eggers would preserve Herring Gulls in salt to be eaten over the winter. Audubon was indifferent to mature Killdeer, but found the young in their first Autumn to be “fat, juicy, and tender.” Dunlins were also fat and juicy, for which reason they were shot in large numbers. Spotted Sandpipers are “delicious” and fat in the fall. Audubon had reached the limits of his descriptive capabilities by the time he described the meat from Black-necked Stilts, which he labeled neither good nor bad, but “ordinary.”
Birds You Will Definitely Never Get To Eat
Finally, Audubon left us his thoughts on birds that may have been considered food in his day, but are now endangered, extinct, or highly protected by federal law. Meat from adult Passenger Pigeons (extinct since 1914) was dark but tolerable. That of young birds taken from their nests, however, was “much esteemed.” When Carolina Parakeets (extinct since 1918) are young, “their flesh is tolerable food.” Similarly, young Whooping Cranes (current population: 543 birds) were “tender and juicy.” Audubon pronounced older birds of that species to be “tough and unfit for the table”, although he noted that the Seminoles of Florida hunted them for food. Audubon also sampled the meat of Peregrine Falcons, which he found to be very tough. Young Bald Eagles were like “veal in taste and tenderness,” while the flesh of Barred Owls is “palatable.” Of all the birds he ate, there was one he compared to our most common poultry. Meat from Snowy Owls, Audubon wrote, is like “that of a chicken, and not indelicate eating.”
[1] T. S. Palmer, Audubon’s Shearwater in the United States, The Auk, Volume 48, Issue 2, 1 April 1931, Pages 198–206, https://doi.org/10.2307/4076787
[2] Audubon, John James. Ornithological Biography, Or an Account of the Habits of the Birds of the United States of America: Accompanied by Descriptions of the Objects Represented in the Work Entitled The Birds of America, and Interspersed with Delineations of American Scenery and Manners. United Kingdom: Black, 1835.
[3] Palmer, “Audubon’s Shearwater”
[4] De Voe, Thomas Farrington. The Market Assistant: Containing a Brief Description of Every Article of Human Food Sold in the Public Markets of the Cities of New York, Boston, Philadelphia, and Brooklyn; Including the Various Domestic and Wild Animals, Poultry, Game, Fish, Vegetables, Fruits &c., &c. with Many Curious Incidents and Anecdotes. United States: Hurd and Houghton, 1867.
[5] Migratory Bird Treaty Act, 16 U.S.C. §703
[6] All quotes are from Audubon, Ornithological Biography, vol. I-V.