A brace of pheasant

A stunning sharp day. We drove out to West Linton where the clamour to park and get at the snow was strangely muted after Flotterstone and the usual Pentland lay-bys. We parked in the village and walked up to Baddingsgill. Just fabulous. Just before Baddingsgill we met a very spry and well turned out hunter returning from rough shooting pheasant on the hill. We chatted briefly about the glory of the day and out of the blue he offered us the brace (a cock and a plump hen) of pheasant he was taking home. It seemed churlish to refuse such a generous and genuine gift and we walked the 3k back to the car with our birds.

I later prepared and cooked the main cuts - leg joints and breast. Not easy in a flat with feathers flying. From hill to casserole in four hours. Not really the best way to cook pheasant what with all that hanging malarkey to improve taste and tenderness but pretty good all the same.