A Partridge in a Pear Pie

I challenge you to name an activity which good food does not compliment: The savory dishes accompanying holiday festivities.  Donuts after church.  The peanuts, beer and hot dogs served at a summer baseball game.  The salty snacks and beer in your hand during a football game.  The salty snacks and beer at deer camp... or grouse camp... or turkey camp... the point is, the right food (and drink) completes an experience and makes it memorable.

The gentleman wing-shooter knows that game should only be dispatched when the purpose for killing is to put food on the table.  He works to ensure a quick and ethical kill, expends reasonable effort to recover his quarry, and preserves as much of the meat as possible for use in feeding his family.  The hunting experience is not complete until dinner is on the table.

I for one, take considerable pride in cooking with the meat I've harvested.  I feel it gives me the unique opportunity to try new things.  I'm at liberty to combine flavors that conventional recipes don't dare.  I'm particularly fond of sweet meat dishes, and with red meat dishes like venison or rabbit, I'll often toss in something spicy as well.

My last effort was a little heartbreaking.  In reading Henry David Thoreau's "Walden,"  I came upon the following passage:

"What is a country without rabbits and partridges? They are among the most simple and indigenous animal products; ancient and venerable families known to antiquity as to modern times; of the very hue and substance of Nature, nearest allied to leaves and to the ground, -- and to one another; it is either winged or it is legged. It is hardly as if you had seen a wild creature when a rabbit or a partridge bursts away, only a natural one, as much to be expected as rustling leaves."

Inspired by this apparent natural kinship between rabbits and ruffed grouse (aka "partridge"), I pulled the meat of each from my freezer.  Placing both in a shared crock pot, I added some stock, an assortment of herbs, and a wide variety of chopped vegetables.  Wracking my brain for a name (every new dish deserves its own name, right?) I thought back through the cooking process.  I thought about the literary inspiration, and how I'd really mixed up the vegetables before adding them to the pot.  Then it hit me! I was thrilled to bring it to the table, but for some reason my family only picked at "Thoreau Up."

Tonight I went in a different direction.  I thawed a whole grouse.  Let me say here, that if you have never tasted the meat of the ruffed grouse, you are missing out on absolutely the most delicious meat, nay, FOOD you will ever put in your mouth.  It is not at all gamey -- if anything it's light and sweet -- and if cooked right will just melt in your mouth.  If you don't believe me, stop by for dinner sometime.

Ok, so we have a whole grouse.  I prepared a stuffing:

• 3 bread heels
• 1/2 cup quick oats
• 4 T melted butter
• 1 eggwhite
• 1/2 t thyme
• a pinch of cinnamon
• a handful of raisins
• enough pear juice to make it spreadable

I stuffed the bird and placed it BREAST DOWN in a small casserole dish.  I poured a can of pears, juice (not syrup) and all.  I then added some chicken stock.  In retrospect, this was a mistake.  The dish turned out soupier than I would have liked.

I scooped/spread the rest of the stuffing on top of the pears to make kind of a crust around the bird.  I topped the meat with another tablespoon of butter and drizzled the whole thing with maple syrup.  I baked it for 30 minutes, removed the lid, and baked it for 30 more.  Due to the "soupiness," I then gave it about 3 minutes under the boiler.

The results:

A Partridge in a Pear Pie

Kids' Platter

 

21 and up

The result was a not-too-sweet almost bread pudding of a dish.  It was a HUGE hit with my wife and kids. If you don't have a freezer full of grouse meat, pick up a game hen at the grocery store and give it a try.