Uncommon Culinary Preferences: Jerry Jones' Taste for Wild Game and His Players' Palate Adventures
In the world of the NFL, where adrenaline and competition dominate the limelight, it's rare to discover the personal quirks and preferences of its key figures. However, Dallas Cowboys owner and general manager Jerry Jones provides a captivating glimpse into his culinary tastes that veer away from the conventional.
It appears that Jones' palate is as adventurous as some of his business ventures. Known to indulge in the delights of raccoon and squirrel, Jones speaks with fondness of these unconventional delicacies. "I've eaten a lot of raccoon," he reveals. "Yes, the answer is yes. I've eaten it hunting, and I've actually had it served by my mom at the table away from hunting." It's a statement that echoes the rustic, familial ties to some of his early dining experiences.
Jones' appreciation doesn't end with raccoon. Squirrel holds a notable place in the hall of his culinary memories. "One of my favorites is squirrel. It's wonderful, and my mother could do a great job of [preparing] it. We all had our favorite pieces," he shares, painting a picture of familial warmth around the dining table, possibly during his life before the glitz and glam of NFL ownership.
Yet, the intriguing taste for such game does not seem to have permeated throughout the Cowboys' locker room, where more mainstream tastes might be expected. Nevertheless, it finds a familiar resonance with one Cowboys player, who hails from a region known for its own unique gastronomic culture.
KaVontae Turpin, a standout from Louisiana, speaks with familiarity when discussing Jones’ preferences. "I love squirrel too, you know I'm from Louisiana, so we eat that type of stuff down there," he mentions, with an easy confidence shaped by his roots. The cultural acceptance of dining on what many might consider unconventional fare runs deep in Louisiana cuisine, where alligator and frog legs often make it to the plate. "In Louisiana, we eat those types of things. Alligator, frog legs, all that type of stuff..." Turpin comments, acknowledging the shared nuances of regional culinary habits.
On the other hand, cowboys' cornerback Jourdan Lewis steers decidedly towards more traditional options, perhaps a nod to his upbringing in Detroit. "Maybe quail, maybe that's the gamiest thing I've ever got. I like bison," he concedes, distancing himself from the gamier choices of Jones and Turpin. His admission, "I'm basic proteins, I'm ok. ... I'm from up north. I don’t know nothing about that bro," captures the culinary divide that often characterizes the diverse melting pot of athletes hailing from varied geographic backgrounds.
This blend of tastes reflects more than just preferences; it underscores the varied culture within a single NFL team. The Cowboys, like many professional sports teams, are a microcosm of America’s vast and diverse landscape, where individuals bring parts of their backgrounds into the fold, shaping the team’s narrative both on and off the field.
In an era where athletes’ diets are frequently under scrutiny, Jones’ preferences for raccoon and squirrel poignantly highlight personal traditions that transcend the typical high-protein, athlete-focused diet. They remind us that food, in many ways, is tied to identity and memory. It serves as a bridge connecting past and present, bringing comfort and nostalgia, even to the most formidable figures in professional sports.
So, the next time the Dallas Cowboys take the field, one might consider the unique stories that intertwine, from raccoon dinners to bison feasts, making up the rich tapestry that is not just NFL football but an American tradition unto its own. Perhaps it lends a new understanding—a bone-deep connection—of where these men come from, and what flavors, both literal and metaphorical, they bring to the game.