THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Thursday, July 6, 1995 TAG: 9507040014
SECTION: FLAVOR PAGE: F1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY EARL SWIFT, STAFF WRITER
LENGTH: Medium: 98 lines
IT TASTES nothing like it looks.
It looks like nothing else on earth.
Behold the emu - a man-sized, goggle-eyed, flightless bird that outweighs a teenager, walks like a dinosaur, kicks when it's angry and tastes more like venison than fowl.
From its centuries-old stomping grounds in the Australian Outback, the big bird is now making a run at the American palate: Some local grocers occasionally stock emu steaks, at least one restaurant offers it as a daily special, and a handful of Hampton Roads farmers have cleared space for the animals, betting that emu meat is a trend waiting to happen.
They're onto something - in theory, at least.
Though a red meat, emu is low in fat and very low in saturated fat, making it not only a healthy alternative to beef but an economical one - a grilled emu steak won't shrink as it sizzles.
Its hide makes a good-looking belt. Its eggs, opaque emerald and the size of an avocado, make attractive knick-knacks. Plus, the creature produces a high-quality oil used in cosmetics and skin conditioners, and hairlike feathers suited to jewelry and dusters.
``Almost every part of the bird is useable,'' said Kathy Burket, standing in a pen at her Suffolk farm with four curious emu chicks, 6 weeks old and already 2 feet tall. ``There's really a lot more to these birds than their meat.''
The meat's acceptance is key to the emu's success here, however. And the question is: Will America's mouth water over an animal that looks more like the cartoon Roadrunner than it does livestock?
Burket, whose I Am Emu Farm near Lake Cohoon boasts three pairs of adult emu, was doubtful when she first laid eyes on the ``really funny-looking birds.''
``I found out about these from my brother, who was raising them in Tazewell County,'' she said, as the striped chicks pecked at her shoes. ``When I heard he'd put a down payment on a pair, I thought it was about the dumbest thing I'd ever heard in my life.''
She came around after learning that one can raise 30 emu on the acre of land it takes to sustain a single longhorn steer. That the animals are cheap to feed. That, during the winter breeding season, females lay an egg every three days. And that a live bird will fetch $3.50 to $5 a pound.
That can add up to a pile of cash, considering that a grown emu weighs about 125 pounds. ``After a while I realized it wasn't such a dumb idea,'' she said. ``That it had the prospect of making a profit.''
Others made the same discovery. A national magazine, Emu Today and Tomorrow, thrives. The Emu Farmer's Handbook has become a bible to thousands of small-scale bird farms.
About 600,000 emu now reside in the United States. Though that's not enough of a population to sustain full-scale slaughtering operations, the day is not far off when the industry reaches that point.
Then, the Texas-based American Emu Association predicts, restaurants around the country will offer heart-healthy emu burgers and emu steaks. ``Any recipe that would use beef, you can use emu in it,'' Burket said. ``What we hope to establish in the state of Virginia is a processing facility.'' ON THE MENU
Emu already figures prominently among the offerings at the Dockside restaurant in Franklin, which began selling emu meals after owner John Taylor read of the rush to invest in farming the animals.
Most nights, diners at the Dockside may order fried emu appetizers - a plate of breaded nuggets that look a bit like chicken fingers, but feature a distinctive flavor something like that of chicken gizzards.
Seasoned with optional Cajun spices, the emu tastes more like chicken-fried steak. Both incarnations require sharp incisors: The industry may claim that it's a veal substitute, but it takes a bit of jaw work to get it down.
A grilled emu steak is a big, hump-backed affair - you get a lot of bird for your buck - and it is beeflike in texture and taste, albeit a touch gamey. But it carries a steeper price tag than beef steak, and requires more muscle to carve and chew. Though there's little marbling, the little that does course through the meat is almost impenetrable.
But it's early. The meat is just reaching American groceries, just working its way into home-grown recipes.
Five years from now, when the emu population has matured, its price will have dropped, and chefs - from backyard barbecuers to restaurant artistes - may well have overcome its peculiarities.
And, at long last, the stubby-winged emu may take flight. ILLUSTRATION: TAMARA VONINSKI/Staff color photos
Kathy Burket raises emus at her I Am Emu Farm in Suffolk.
The meat of the emu, native to Australia, has less fat than chicken
or turkey.
Brian Casto, 10, Kathy Burket's grandson, enjoys playing in the baby
emu pen.
by CNB