Or even a pheasant plucker’s son. Thank goodness. Week one in Ballymaloe we plucked game. It is a thankless job. Difficult, time consuming, and just a little icky.
Even though we did our best, the poor bird looked a little worse for wear. So when I decided on Pheasant for dinner last night, I wanted to give it as much love and attention as I could as it was so beautifully prepared.
And really, in essence, simple is best (Yes, Rory, I was listening). So I seasoned with both salt and pepper, and rubbed a generous amount of good quality olive oil all over the skin. A small drop of our honey was rubbed on the breast, and it went into a medium oven for 45 mins. I had put some beetroot into roast an hour previously, with some crushed garlic and thyme. At this time of year it needs lots of love to make to shine as it’s getting a bit old.
But for fresh greens we had some purple sprouting broccoli that I had picked only an hour before it was cooked. Without doubt this is one of my favourite vegetables.
Served with a simple salad, with foraged greens from our lane, it made for a delicious dinner, and was enjoyed by all. A rather posh dinner for a Tuesday night, but what the hell.