September 24, 2009
(Almost) Jointed Roadkill Pheasant
Filed under: The Black Arts
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From THIS to THIS (<- above!). I hung the pheasant for one night, butchered it the following night, washed it, dried it, wrapped it up in a cotton tea towel and stored it in the fridge. (OH, PLASTIC TUPPERWARE BOX WITH LID, <3!) And there the gutted, partially jointed roadkill sat for another day or two thanks to me being 100% engrossed with the creation of our harvest altar yesterday.
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Things scavengers with opposable digits might not tell you (you can thank me for my frankness later):
* Death smells like bile - acidic, sour, acrid, awful, off-putting and rank. Death? Death smells like sauerkraut even Ukrainians won't eat.
* It all doesn't ALWAYS come out in one go (or the second, or the third, but by the time you're scooping for the fourth time you pretty much ruptured the last of the organs into a pureed mess of offal leaving you with an unidentifiable cocktail of insides which may, or may not, be a visual improvement depending on how delicate your sensibilities are).
* Fuck the feathers, you're never going to get them all. (THERE COMES A POINT - AFTER MANY A FRUSTRATED FAUCET RINSINGS - WHEN YOU REALIZE THAT THE TEENY, TINY BLACK PLUMAGE FLUFF STICKING TO YOUR PARTIALLY JOINTED PHEASANT WAS PUT THERE BY THE DEVIL HIMSELF. DON'T CONTINUE NEEDLESSLY ROLLING THAT BOULDER UP THE HILL ANY LONGER THAN YOU NEED TO, TRUST ME ON THIS.)
* That sour, defrosting dead Yeti whose last meal was a barrel of 1000 year old sauerkraut smell will go. Honest. I know the meat smells like vomit NOW, but after rinsing, patting dry...well, actually, after the first round of rinsing and drying it'll still smell like ass (just like your hands). But it'll go away. The processed bird I pulled out of the fridge today? Smells a whole helluva lot more appetizing than the majority of store bought poultry.
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After dredging the jointed pheasant and 300g of venison in seasoned flour I added the game to a waiting casserole (butter beans, black-eyed peas, pancetta, tomatoes, chicken stock, balsamic vinegar, thyme, oregano, white wine, garlic and mushrooms), and the meal's currently cooking away in the oven. (Since this is a crock pot recipe and I don't have a crock pot I'm leaving it in the oven overnight on a low temperature to emulate a slow cooker. By the time I wake up I should have fork tender game casserole. <- LONG LIVE FREE FOOD IN THE FORM OF ROADKILL!)
(Holy shit I'm so tired I can barely think. IF NONE OF THIS MAKES SENSE LET'S BLAME IT ON THAT, OKAY?)
