The Omnivore’s Opportunity

[kisota]

The Omnivore’s Opportunity

A coyote-person’s experience with food

There’s a stereotype that canines are all stomachs on legs. Barry Lopez wrote that wolves are “more or less always hungry,” being adapted to a feast-or-famine existence and therefore continuously scoping for the next chance to eat.  Food is survival. 

Coyote hunger comes in that ever-present way, where senses are constantly calibrated to sense danger and opportunity. I’ve been told I’m observant, but really, that sensory sensitivity means the world is just big and loud to me, frequently bordering on overwhelming.  On the bright side, it’s a bit funny to spot a miniature peanut butter cup on the ground from a moving car, even if all the movement and traffic are simultaneously making me on edge. 

Ubiquitous food in modern America means that the feasting-fasting habits of the wild predator aren’t necessary. But I’ve found it useful to mimic that lifestyle anyway, through intermittent fasting.  Long hours in the field for work can feel like the roaming of the local wildlife, and I’ve found myself a little keener, a little more focused, when I’m not snacking.  A larger meal at the end of ten or twelve miles in the heat is satisfyingly like finally filling up after a long day on the hunt.

The urge to snap up every opportunity especially didn’t serve me well during grad school.  I had to train myself out of taking advantage of every office snack - a world of excess means having to use restraint against the urges that would in other places or times be beneficial.  But at least office snacks are pretty socially acceptable things to grab.  The scavenging urge also appears in much more literal ways – in restaurants, parking lots, roadsides, dumpsters.  To walk past a pristine abandoned basket of naan in an Indian restaurant is difficult, and I’ve nicked some when I can – less so post-pandemic! The sense of all the waste of the world and all the squandered resources creates a real sense of stress in me, one that I can’t explain from any actual food insecurity in my life.

The impulse to take advantage of easy opportunities is sometimes even less socially acceptable.  At least once I’ve found myself, pulled over on some rural road, gripping my steering wheel as I have to sit and reason with myself why I can’t take a freshly hit deer. Some of that desire has at least been satisfied in dreams, trotting through grass or the snowy edges of a forest where I’ve sampled long-dead elk, stringy and wind-dried, or hunted rabbits.  I even dream vividly enough to feel and taste. In luckier waking circumstances, I’ve been fortunate to be able to salvage smaller roadkill (in accordance with safety protocols and local regulations – after all, a dream carcass is safe to go face-first into, but a real one carries real dangers).  And while “freeganism” has caught on somewhat, you’re still likely to raise a few eyebrows by salvaging even the most intact food from a dumpster.  That waste-not-want-not philosophy leaks into my lifestyle in general, and I have recovered everything from a charcoal grill to backpacks, aquariums, and shelving units from the trash.

Of course, the scavenging isn’t really the primary strategy of the coyote.  Coyotes are predators, and predatory impulses toward things that register as “food” are something I can remember dealing with even as a kid. But the chase and eating drives are somewhat separate even in animals.  So it’s possible to satisfy the desire to “hunt” independent of eating – hobbies like insect collection and herping can help with that.  Fishing is even better, and while traditional hunting has been somewhat inaccessible to me, a certain amount of vicarious satisfaction comes from hawking with falconer friends. Beating the brush to scare up game is a wonderful way to feel the pleasure of cooperative hunting.

The omnivory of the coyote comes out in gustatory adventurousness as well.  There’s little I don’t like and less I won’t try.  Generally my objections are more ethical than from squeamishness.  Insects, offal, fermented foods, peated whiskeys and sour beers, even exotic things like balut are on the menu.  When I do find something that’s offputting, I work on training myself out of the aversion, which has expanded my tastes even further. I’m always on the lookout for something new to try.  Learning to take advantage of all the food on offer had the side effect of bolstering my interest in cooking.  Trying new techniques, food substitutions, and recipes from around the world is very satisfying to the coyote’s curious stomach. 

Though I can’t indulge every feral urge around eating, the modern world is a wonderland of novel resources for the human coyote. Even if I can’t hunt with my own fangs, I can still eat my own catches.  I can schedule my eating to feel my best. I have access to many of the coyote’s natural foods.  Better yet, I can have those foods off-season and know with some certainty that they’re safe. So, while I do live with challenges around my perceptions and desires around food, there are ways to mitigate the struggles and cultivate a more positive perspective. With care, a coyote can exult in the boundless novelty and opportunity of the human culinary world.