The news summary about lab mice caught my attention because it was so ambiguous. Clipped from the London Daily Telegraph, it simply stated, "Scientists on the cutting edge (from Quark Biotech) have recently developed cholesterol-free mice." At first glance, the story could be interpreted two ways. Had scientists genetically or chemically engineered a lab mouse that could live forever or were mice being developed as a safe food source for humans? A long-range plan by government agencies to create a healthy alternative for protein in human diets would make much more sense than a plan for mice immortality. Let’s face it. Other creatures in our food chain have been receiving bad press lately and in some places certain species have been taken off restaurant menus. Farm-raised salmon and tuna raise suspicions because of their contaminant levels and isolated cases of mad cow disease have sent consumers stampeding. Avian flu and SARS are both taking wing in Asia. (Fortunately, civet cats, believed to be the food source for SARS, have never been up my alley.) We will have to acquire a taste for mice. For many years people in our country believed that eating raw fish was some sort of taboo, ranking right up there with marrying your brother or wearing white shoes after Labor Day. Then along came sushi and opinions changed. The stereotypes we have of mice will also have to change before we will be able to think of the tiny, furry rodents as main entrees. While many of us associate mice with cute, cuddly cartoon characters, such as Mickey Mouse and Mighty Mouse, the rest of us have at one time or another put out contracts on their lives. We abhor the idea of the tiny rodents taking over our homes, rummaging through our cupboards and causing people to scream uncontrollably. We buy mousetraps by the dozens in hopes of snuffing out their sick, miserable, little lives. But, enough of that. It will take the public some time to adjust to mice on their menus. They might not welcome with open mouths creamed mice on toast or mice croquettes, pan-fried patties of minced mice and mashed potatoes. The switchover will be much more subtle. The assumption will be that once we try it, we will like the taste of mice. (Mothers, who were presumably placed on this earth to serve as vegetable advocates, will tell you that such assumptions rarely work.) Only careful readers will notice that the containers of chocolate mousse at the local deli have labels which appear to be misspelled — "Chocolate Mouse." Other food name similarities might include miced clams, Rocky Road mice cream, cake micing, micemeat pie and 10-pound bags of mice cubes in the freezer section. Gourmet appreciation of mice will come along later. Food critics will rave about a certain restaurant’s haute cuisine featuring mice, and their carefully chosen words will similarly be unique. "The Mice Diane scampers down rather nicely with a robust merlot." "There was nary a squeak at the table when the exquisitely tiny mice filets, delicately laced with a buttery sauce, were placed before us." Across the country, "Where’s the beef?" will eventually be replaced with, "Where’s the mouse meat?"
