At dinner last night, one of my major food ticks was outted for the first time. I don’t eat Belgian endive. For the same reason I don’t eat veal, because I don’t eat any humiliated food.

Allow me to illustrate why endive is like veal:

I was in my garden, digging up weeds. I moved a heavy pot that was blocking part of the bed. Underneath was a clump of chartreuse sick that could have been wild onion. It still managed to grow under the pot, even deprived of all light. It made me sad.

That’s how you get Belgian Endive, by growing the lettuce in complete darkness. I just happen to be very disturbed by that. Plants need sun, it’s their whole raison d’etre for fuck’s sake. (yes, mushrooms are exempt from this diatribe) To eat a plant deprived of sunlight is a gross crime against nature in my book. It’s no different than penned veal that are restrained, and sometimes hobbled, to keep the meat supple and rich.

I have no problem eating Kobe beef. Those cows live better than most of the people in southeast Asia. They get sake rub downs on a daily basis. But if their heads were chained to the ground, I wouldn’t eat them.

I’m a firm believer that people should know where the shit they eat comes from. I love animals, but I’m not a vegetarian. I can look a graceful doe in the face, watch it glide away through the forest, and still eat venison for dinner. Why? Because I’m comfortable with the chain of events.

I’ve cut the heads off chickens(they do sometimes run, FYI) and stripped their feathers. I’ve broken the necks of coneys, stripped their skins, and roasted them on an open fire. And I think everyone should have to visit a slaughterhouse and see the difference.

I don’t eat humiliated food. I buy Niman Ranch meats, free range chicken, organic vegetables. The animals I eat have roamed. The plants I eat have basked in the sun.

And that’s why I don’t dig on Belgian endive. Anything endive can do Radicchio can do better.