The red is the lesser of the two in my opinion and, although it is a bigger and meatier bird (cheaper too) than its grey cousin, the latter has a much gamier flavour. I understand that the red partridge is entirely farmed these days (presumably this was not always the case) However, the superior grey species is mostly wild and free. I say “mostly” only because I have a sneaking suspicion that rearing and cosseting is going on in the grey camp too – the birds just look too neat and tidy, and often throw up no trace of the odd nugget of tooth-jarring shot. But, even so, a grey partridge is still the tastier choice.That very nice man Nigel Slater, who writes for the Observer, recently noted that I am always plugging traditional British food Well, I am not so sure about that But on this occasion his suspicions are well founded. For me, the ultimate treatment for a simply roasted game bird is bread sauce, crisp, buttery game crumbs (see below), redcurrant jelly and gravy. Of course there are other spiffing notions, such as braising pheasant with chestnuts, but as I loathe chestnuts you won’t be getting a recipe from me. If I wanted to do something glamorous to a pheasant, then I would stew it with cider and Calvados, or with some Madeira, cream and plenty of morels, most commonly found dried in specialist food shops.
Expensive, but once soaked in warm water and have swollen up, they become reassuringly plump.A note about gravy, which I mentioned a few weeks ago. Most game birds, but particularly grouse, do not throw off many juices into the roasting dish as they cook. This is largely due to the brevity of time they have in the oven – unlike a chicken, which has an hour or so to exude its sticky bits But gravy is so good. It flows into the bread sauce like milk in porridge and then soaks up those crisp game crumbs like croutons in soup There are two schools of thought on making game gravy. If you eat game regularly, then always keep the carcasses and make stock for the next time (freeze it in ice trays and add to the next gravy).
However, if you eat it once in a blue moon, roast the livers and hearts of the birds in the bottom of the roasting dish, together with any wing tips or necks. That way, these bits and pieces will eventually caramelise and can be moistened with a little fortified wine, briefly stewed, then strained.I always buy my birds from R Allen & Co, a traditional butchers in Mayfair. They have been there for years and are extremely proficient game dealers. They can be found at 117 Mount Street, London Wl (0171-499 5831).Roasting game birdsThe practice of wrapping a game bird in a slice of pork fat prior to roasting is an embellishment I find slightly pointless, particularly on fatty pheasants. Even on the almost totally fatless grouse I find it an encumbrance. As long as a lot of butter is used to cook these birds, and basting is done as well, then all will be OK. If you must wrap, then at least use streaky bacon – which will crisp up and then probably fall off, but at least it will be nice to eat afterwards.For grouse and partridge – both red and grey – about 20 minutes in a hot oven (425F/220C/gas mark 7) will be sufficient For a small hen pheasant, allow about 35 to 40 minutes.
Put them into a solid roasting dish, smear generously with softened butter and season. Just before the required time, check to see if they are cooked by tweaking the breasts with thumb and forefinger. The density should be similar to that of a peeled, hard-boiled egg. You have to allow the bird to rest, ensuring that the blood settles in the meat before being cut This should take about seven to ten minutes Recipes often say, “put in a warm place”. Well, where is this elusive “warm place” in everyone’s kitchen, I would like to know. The dog’s basket? The best way is to leave the door of the oven open for a couple of minutes, then pop the birds back in a clean dish, leaving the door ajar.
