GAME ON

It's particularly this time of year that I do miss rainy, wet-dog country Sundays. The smell of sodden, decaying undergrowth, shotguns in the distance and alarmed pheasant leaping from the brake, the squelch of mud under boot and the lowering winter skies.

It's the time of year when our minds turn towards eating game. As a boy, growing up on a farm in Scotland, there was lots of it hanging about at this time of year. The birds, mainly pheasant, partridge and a few wood pigeon would be decked across the eaves of the potting shed, summoning up a gamey whiff before being plucked. My father belonged to the rather snobbish, posturing poshers who believed game should literally be maggoty before it was fit for eating.

I didn't really shoot. I tried a few times with my friend who had a shotgun. But I preferred to listen out for the crackle of the fieldfares descending on the hedgerows than exploding gunpowder. Not that I had a problem killing birds to eat. But as boys we deployed a far more subtle form of slaughter. We'd make our way with stealth up to the fir tree plantation just as the sun was going down. And using a catapult and ball bearings we'd knock the pheasant stone cold out of the lower branches where they'd be roosting for the night. I'm ashamed to say I was an instinctive poacher and quickly developed a clandestine arrangement with the local game dealer.

These days a brace of Suffolk pheasant from Borough Market have to suffice to create that ambiance of seasonal fruitfulness. And though you don't need to go to extremes most game birds do benefit from hanging around for a bit. It softens the flesh. But sadly, most are no longer actually ‘hung' so my mother recommends leaving them in the back of the fridge for a week where, they acquire a nicely intensified gaminess.

When you are ready to cook them, rub the skins with salt and let them air for a while. I grate orange zest and crush red peppercorns over them before covering them in streaky bacon. This helps to keep the birds moist while they roast (roughly 220 first 20mins and 180 the rest). You can remove the bacon in the last 10 minutes to let the skin brown.

Bread sauce is an essential for pheasant. Just soak some old heels in a bowl of milk with a small onion studded with cloves. When you are ready, remove the cloves, liquidize and heat gently. All sorts of different seasonal root vegetables go well with game. Have your pheasant with very thinly sliced celeriac chips, fried in oil until crisp, roasted parsnips with cumin seeds and honey and pureed pumpkin with butter. To keep your palate clean, try a crisp watercress salad with a dressing made from the leftover orange juice, red wine vinegar and clarified butter.

It feels right. December, pheasant and a really big claret.

TENDER WORDS

Tender (2009) tells the story of Nigel Slater's love affair with his garden in Islington and the many seedlings he has raised in his box-hedged vegetable patches. It’s a magnificent volume, like a medieval knightly treatise with pictures of his Eden, its produce and many of the recipes he has created from them.

23 May, 2010

FOOD FROM THE HEART

Cooking is a basic human instinct. We’ve been eating, chopping, shaping, flavouring, enticing ingredients into something delicious since time began. But as the way many of us live has changed, the basic skills we require to cook, are no longer valued and it’s often easier to let others take control of what we eat.

21 April, 2010

IN A RIGHT FISH STEW

This week we had sustainable fish stew. It’s a quick and easy way to feed a gang of hungries on a Friday night and doesn’t need much else but some good bread and wine. Like all stews, you need balance, rich liquid and a range of potent flavours steaming from your pot.

15 March, 2010