Consuming the puffin

I think it's pretty clear from the name of the blog and picture associated with it that I have seen puffins as something of worth. Emblematic of the path of least non-awesomeness, my spirit animal even. I love the way they look, their sad eyes, their comical beaks, their slow little dances. That they live in cool out of the way places like Staffa and Iceland only adds to the appeal. You have to go find them, they're not going to make it easy for you, coming and stealing your chips, begging for crumbs, hanging about in the easiest to find tourist spots like seagulls or pigeons. Puffins are awesome, and I'm not even entirely sure I fully grasp how awesome they are, because I actually know very little about the different variations of puffin, their migration patterns, the food they like to eat (aside from fish generally), but I know I like them.

But now I have a confession to make. A confession that has meant breaking my over 1 year silence on this blog: I have now eaten puffin.

According to common sense (and possibly some actual anthropological research), many traditional cultures believe that by eating certain animals you gain some of their valued qualities. Tiger testicles (or is it penis?) for instance will make men as virile as a tiger. Whether tigers are actually virile (after all we've managed to almost wipe them out to get said testicles and they don't seem to reproduce very quickly) is another story, perhaps for another day, another time (another meal? I kid, I kid, near extinct animals are off the table). What eating puffin gave me immediately was a wrenching feeling in my ‘soul’ every time I thought about them (which is incredibly easy in Reykjavik as they're a big part of the tourist scene - including a whole shop of puffin based memorabilia). I didn’t feel differently awesome in any sense of the word afterward (aside from having eaten a rather delicious meal!)… in other words I don’t think I’ve taken on board any of their (admittedly anthropomorphically imposed) qualities of awesomeness.

It did lead me to think through some of the key issues around what we eat and why though. As a meat eater, I (and many within my worldview) eat from only a select group of animal flesh. Staying in Iceland forced me to confront some of the assumptions I have about eating (sustainably caught) whale, puffin, horse (foal specifically) and what makes them qualitatively different from cow, pig, chicken etc. Having now eaten foal (yes, I went there too!), should I make a point of mentioning this to horse loving people in my life? Would I hesitate in suggesting that chowing down on some cat might be something I’d like to try at some point around those who seem to think house cats are worthy of attention beyond basting for a BBQ? After all, I continue to eat meat and talk about this around vegetarian and vegan friends (albeit with some modicum of reserve). Is there a difference? OR should I collapse under the weight of these concerns and become a vegetarian/vegan myself as I often wonder in the dark of night alongside worrying about dying before my wife and whether that twinge in my lower back is cancer?