Ambergris
I'm sure by now you've all read the whale vomit story, about the lady who gave her sister a grotesque lump of God-knows-what as a gift. That's actually the best part of the story - the lady had found the lump on the beach, and had kept it for decades as a conversation piece on her knick-knack table before deciding that her sister needed it.
How the ambergris theory arose, I don't know. What its new owner has is a big crazy-looking waxy green blob that certainly doesn't look like ambergris. If it were ambergris, it probably would have stunk up that lady's living room with a scent either strangely alluring or downright revolting. So it's probably not ambergris, and not the pension she is hoping for, but just the worst gift from a relative ever.
I also don't know how ambergris came to be called whale vomit either, though it probably accounts for a lot of the popularity of the story. Ambergris is no more whale vomit than an owl pellet is owl vomit. Ambergris is much much weirder, and even more disgusting than whale vomit. It's a fatty, smelly deposit related to the kind of stuff that comes out of a gall bladder, secreted into a sperm whale's intestine, perhaps to isolate and help pass an indigestible obstruction. It exits the whale (probably not at the mouth end, as is often said, since it forms in the intestine) and floats around in the ocean until it beaches and some lady finds it.
Until people knew it came from whales, people did look for it on beaches. Once they realized it came from whales, they harvested it right from the source, which is why it's illegal to sell ambergris now. Its presence in a whale is a sign of a problem, like the way a pearl indicates trouble in an oyster.
Ambergris is valuable because it is rare and is considered delectable; it is used both as a scent and a flavoring. This just proves that humans have probably tried to eat everything imaginable, and maybe it's why I'm fascinated with this story. One of my all-time favorite quotes is: "He was a bold man that first ate an oyster." (Jonathan Swift)
The first food that came to mind as I read about ambergris was durian. Durian is a fruit grown in Southeast Asia which, when ripe, has a famously disgusting odor resembling sewage. Only when it is ripe do the creamy insides offer the flavor that is apparently addictively delicious. So who first figured that out? Durian is not valuable, however, because it can be grown in quantity, and the odor does dissuade people from eating it. And it's not weird when a fruit turns out to be edible, since many are. But ambergris is another story.
Even civet cat coffee isn't quite as odd as ambergris. Civet cats are weasel-like mammals who produce a musk used in perfumery, much like ambergris. In parts of Asia some civets like to eat coffee berries. Their stomachs digest the berry part, and the bean passes through in their poop. These beans are gathered, presumably cleaned off, and then roasted for brewing coffee. It's expensive, but still, it's coffee and tastes like coffee.
Raw ambergris is not obviously attractive. The smell is apparently a little funky, and I'm not sure what would lead you to try eating it. Its taste is said to resemble chocolate (unsweetened, I assume). The odor improves as it lingers, which it does for a long time, a characteristic vital for perfume. Even then, no one says it smells wonderful; intriguing, peculiar, velvety, there's a lot of room for interpretation; again, a characteristic vital for perfume.
At first, because no one knew where ambergris was from, it could be imagined to have a mysterious and wonderful origin, as was the case with the Biblical manna (thought now to be an insect excretion). The mystery must have added to the allure. And once its value was established, there was status attached to the use of ambergris apart from its qualities, not unlike the fad of sprinkling gold powder into a beverage to prove that you can afford such a thing.
The value of ambergris made searching for it on beaches a reasonable venture. If you had no actual experience with ambergris, and you'd been thinking that you could do with a little extra cash, your imagination could lead you to believe that any unidentifiable lump found on a beach must be the fabled ambergris. The odds would be way against you, but it would make a great story.
BC
Here's a wonderful first-hand account about ambergris, from a 1933 edition of Natural History.
How the ambergris theory arose, I don't know. What its new owner has is a big crazy-looking waxy green blob that certainly doesn't look like ambergris. If it were ambergris, it probably would have stunk up that lady's living room with a scent either strangely alluring or downright revolting. So it's probably not ambergris, and not the pension she is hoping for, but just the worst gift from a relative ever.
I also don't know how ambergris came to be called whale vomit either, though it probably accounts for a lot of the popularity of the story. Ambergris is no more whale vomit than an owl pellet is owl vomit. Ambergris is much much weirder, and even more disgusting than whale vomit. It's a fatty, smelly deposit related to the kind of stuff that comes out of a gall bladder, secreted into a sperm whale's intestine, perhaps to isolate and help pass an indigestible obstruction. It exits the whale (probably not at the mouth end, as is often said, since it forms in the intestine) and floats around in the ocean until it beaches and some lady finds it.
Until people knew it came from whales, people did look for it on beaches. Once they realized it came from whales, they harvested it right from the source, which is why it's illegal to sell ambergris now. Its presence in a whale is a sign of a problem, like the way a pearl indicates trouble in an oyster.
Ambergris is valuable because it is rare and is considered delectable; it is used both as a scent and a flavoring. This just proves that humans have probably tried to eat everything imaginable, and maybe it's why I'm fascinated with this story. One of my all-time favorite quotes is: "He was a bold man that first ate an oyster." (Jonathan Swift)
The first food that came to mind as I read about ambergris was durian. Durian is a fruit grown in Southeast Asia which, when ripe, has a famously disgusting odor resembling sewage. Only when it is ripe do the creamy insides offer the flavor that is apparently addictively delicious. So who first figured that out? Durian is not valuable, however, because it can be grown in quantity, and the odor does dissuade people from eating it. And it's not weird when a fruit turns out to be edible, since many are. But ambergris is another story.
Even civet cat coffee isn't quite as odd as ambergris. Civet cats are weasel-like mammals who produce a musk used in perfumery, much like ambergris. In parts of Asia some civets like to eat coffee berries. Their stomachs digest the berry part, and the bean passes through in their poop. These beans are gathered, presumably cleaned off, and then roasted for brewing coffee. It's expensive, but still, it's coffee and tastes like coffee.
Raw ambergris is not obviously attractive. The smell is apparently a little funky, and I'm not sure what would lead you to try eating it. Its taste is said to resemble chocolate (unsweetened, I assume). The odor improves as it lingers, which it does for a long time, a characteristic vital for perfume. Even then, no one says it smells wonderful; intriguing, peculiar, velvety, there's a lot of room for interpretation; again, a characteristic vital for perfume.
At first, because no one knew where ambergris was from, it could be imagined to have a mysterious and wonderful origin, as was the case with the Biblical manna (thought now to be an insect excretion). The mystery must have added to the allure. And once its value was established, there was status attached to the use of ambergris apart from its qualities, not unlike the fad of sprinkling gold powder into a beverage to prove that you can afford such a thing.
The value of ambergris made searching for it on beaches a reasonable venture. If you had no actual experience with ambergris, and you'd been thinking that you could do with a little extra cash, your imagination could lead you to believe that any unidentifiable lump found on a beach must be the fabled ambergris. The odds would be way against you, but it would make a great story.
BC
Here's a wonderful first-hand account about ambergris, from a 1933 edition of Natural History.
posted by Bill Calhoun 8:43 AM
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