The consumption of frogs is not, as is very often supposed, confined to the French. It is now also indulged in, to a considerable extent, by Americans; and frogs appear to command a high price in the New York market. An enthusiastic writer tries to convince us, that the only objection to frogs as an article of diet is a mere prejudice on the part of those who have never eaten them. ‘In what respect are they worse than eels? The frog who swallows young birds and ducklings is surely as clean a feeder as the snake-like creature that dines on dead dogs, and makes the celebrity of the ait at Twickenham. Or is a frog less savoury than a rat? And yet what a price was paid for rats at the siege of Kars! If the garrison could only have been supplied with lots of frogs—literal or metaphorical—the Russians would never have taken the place. Again, does a snail—the large escargot, which people are so fond of in Paris—appear more tempting than a frog? Or that animal picked out of its shell with a pin, and called, in vulgar parlance, a winkle. ‘Away, then,’ as indignant orators say, ‘away, then, with this cant of false delicacy and squeamishness, and the very first opportunity you have, O lector fastidioso! order A Dish of Frogs. They are quite as good as whitebait, when assisted by a flask of Rhenish.’
The Athenæum, also, recently came out in favour of frogs. ‘There is no reason,’ it remarks, ‘why we should eschew frogs and relish turtle; still less is there for our eating one or two of the numerous edible funguses, which our island produces, and condemning all the rest.’
The green or edible frog (Rana esculenta) is a native of Europe, some parts of Asia, and also of Northern Africa. It is in high request on the Continent for its flesh, the meat of the hind quarters, which is alone used, being delicate and well tasted. In Vienna, where the consumption of these frogs is very considerable, they are preserved alive, and fattened in froggeries (grenouillières) constructed for the express purpose.
In America, the flesh of the huge bull-frog (R. pipiens, Harl.; R. mugiens, Catesby,) is tender, white, and affords excellent eating. Some bull-frogs weigh as much as half-a-pound, but the hind legs are the only parts used as food. They make excellent bait for the larger cat-fish.
In the Antilles, another huge bull-frog is reared in a state of domestication for the table. It is the Rana ocellata, Linn; R. gigas of Spix; Cystignathus ocellatus, Wagler.
Toads seem also to be eaten by the French, though unwittingly. Professor Dumeril used to relate, in his lectures at the Jardin des Plantes, that the frogs brought to the markets in Paris are caught in the stagnant waters round Montmorenci, in the Bois de Vincennes, Bois de Boulogne, &c. The people employed in this traffic separate the hind quarters and legs of the frogs from the body, denude them of their skin, arrange them on skewers, as larks are done in this country, and then bring them in that state to market. In seeking for frogs, these dealers often meet with toads, which they do not reject, but prepare them in the same way as they would frogs; and, as it is impossible to determine whether the hind quarters of these creatures, after the skin is stripped off, belong to frogs or toads, it continually happen that great numbers of the supposed frogs sold in Paris for food are actually toads.[18]
This account of the mode of bringing the frogs to market, in Paris, does not tally with that given by my friend, Mr. F. T. Buckland, in his Curiosities of Natural History; he says:—
‘In France, frogs are considered a luxury, as any bon vivant ordering a dish of them at the Trois Frères, at Paris, may, by the long price, speedily ascertain. Not wishing to try such an expensive experiment in gastronomy, I went to the large market in the Faubourg St. Germain, and enquired for frogs. I was referred to a stately-looking dame at a fish-stall, who produced a box nearly full of them, huddling and crawling about, and occasionally croaking as though aware of the fate to which they were destined. The price fixed was two a penny, and having ordered a dish to be prepared, the Dame de la Halle dived her hand in among them, and having secured her victim by the hind legs, she severed him in twain with a sharp knife; the legs, minus skin, still struggling, were placed on a dish; and the head, with the fore-legs affixed, retained life and motion, and performed such motions that the operation became painful to look at. These legs were afterwards cooked at the restaurateur’s, being served up fried in bread crumbs, as larks are in England; and most excellent eating they were, tasting more like the delicate flesh of the rabbit than anything else I can think of. I afterwards tried a dish of the common English frog, but his flesh is not so white nor so tender as that of his French brother.’
The Chinese seem also to appreciate frogs, for Mr. Fortune, in describing a Chinese market, says—
‘Frogs seemed much in demand. They are brought to market in tubs and baskets, and the vender employs himself in skinning them as he sits making sales. He is extremely expert at this part of his business. He takes up the frog in his left hand, and with a knife, which he holds in his right, chops off the fore part of its head. The skin is then drawn back over the body and down to the feet, which are chopped off and thrown away. The poor frog, still alive, but headless, skinless, and feetless, is then thrown into another tub, and the operation is repeated on the rest in the same way. Every now and then the artist lays down his knife, and takes up his scales to weigh these animals for his customers, and make his sales. Everything in this civilised country, whether it be gold or silver, geese or frogs, is sold by weight.’