David Spates "Therefore I Am" Published Aug. 26, 2003

Pigs are pork and cows are beef -- what's the deal?

Here's a little game you can play the next time you find yourself in the fast-food drive-through line.

When the kid's voice crackles through the speaker asking what you'd like, tell him, "I'd like a fried cow sandwich combo with fries and a Coke." I guarantee he'll respond, "Pardon me?" Without missing a beat, just say, maybe a little slower this time, that you'd like a fried cow sandwich with fries and a Coke.

It may take a little longer to get your burger that day, but you'll be giving that kid a story he can tell his buddies for the rest of his life. Isn't that what life's all about, anyway -- having a good story to tell? You'll have given the fast-food kid a beauty.

Why is cow meat called hamburger or steak or roast or whatnot? I've wondered that for years. No one goes into a fancy steakhouse and asks for a prime cut of cow, and you certainly wouldn't ask the waiter what kind of wine he'd recommend with grilled cow.

The same goes for pork. You don't serve pig and beans with your Fourth of July burgers. Pork and beans sounds delightful -- a summertime tradition alongside watermelon, corn on the cob and curdled potato salad. Pig and beans? Not so much. And how about breakfast? Do you remember dear Mom making Sunday morning eggs with smoked ribbons of pig? If Mom's making bacon and eggs, count me in. If Mom's frying smoked pig strips with the sunnyside-ups, I think I'll have a Pop Tart.

Thanks anyway, Mom.

Who decided that cow would be beef and pig would be pork? Furthermore, why isn't fish called, well, something other than fish? Or shrimp? Or chicken? You can order grilled chicken at a restaurant and no one will blink an eye, but if you go into the same restaurant and order grilled cow, you'll get some strange looks.

I used to think this strange titling of cow and pig had something to do with the fact that they're mammals, like us. We humans are simply showing a small measure of respect to the cows and pigs by calling them beef and pork. I suppose the respect ends where the slaughterhouse stun gun begins, but you get my point. It's just a little courtesy for the warm-blooded set. If we suddenly took a step down on the food chain, I'd like to think the human connoisseurs would devise a fancy name for us, too.

Upon further consideration, however, I think the answer is simpler than all that. Pig and cow just don't sound tasty. Beef and pork have a much nicer ring to them. When you're about to put something in your mouth, you want it to sound appetizing.

Chicken has a nice sound to it - fun, cheery, almost jovial. Fish sounds pretty good, too -- strong, healthy, determined. Shrimp, well, they just sound like they need to be eaten. What else could any animal named shrimp be good for?

The "appetizing to the ear" theory applies to other animals we choke down our gullets.
Squid? No, thanks. Calamari? Now that sounds tasty. I'll give it a try. Snails? You're kidding, right? Escargot? Hmmm, how glamorous, how unusual, how ... foreign! As a rule of thumb, if you're feeling a little squeamish about the menu, just translate it into a European language. It will instantly sound better. Just avoid German. Nothing sounds tasty in German.

There's a notable exception to all of this. After all, what's a rule without an exception? Deer, oh, deer. Despite the fact that deer are mammals plus have a savory-sounding name, most folks don't request deer by name. Somehow venison is on the menu, not deer, which to me doesn't even ring a tummy-tempting bell. Venison sounds like a astronomical body, like a moon or a planet in a galaxy far, far away.

"Yes, Lord Vader, I'm afraid the Venisons have broken from the Empire and have taken up arms alongside the Rebellion, but don't worry. Those dastardly Venisons will pay for this treachery with their lives. Target the Death Star's primary weapon on planet Venison. Fire."

Cuteness plays a role in deer being called venison. A deer is a beautiful animal, far too charming to eat. That velvety fur, those big soulful eyes, little Bambi scampering under the mother's legs. You can't eat deer. Venison, on the other hand, sounds, well, a little odd, but go ahead and bring me an order nonetheless. I'm game.

While you're at it, slice me off another hunk of cow. I'm so hungry I could eat a horse.

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David Spates is a Knoxville resident and Crossville Chronicle contributor whose column is published each Tuesday. He can be reached at davespates@chartertn.net.