I’ve got a bit of an issue with committees. Committee
people, a bit like golf people give me the willies somewhat, all earnest and
laughing at things that aren’t really that funny, not laughing at things that
really are funny, odd clothes, a poor grasp of personal hygiene and that sort
of thing. I’ve been on a few committees myself and never went the distance.
Those that I’d like to be on won’t have me, so I’ll take a pop at all of them.
Silly me, I’ve already probably alienated half of my readership and I’m only 87
words in to a 450 word piece (at least half the population of Shropshire are on
a committee and / or play golf). Mneh, I’ll manage without them.
Anyway, long story short, I was reading about the Committee
Against Bird Slaughter, and by heavens they’re a busy bunch. Based in Germany
the CABS dash about all over Europe (sometimes the Near East too), causing
havoc for all those who delight in, well, slaughtering birds. Most recently
several members of CABS have been expelled from Les Landes in France by the
local gendarmes for protesting about the trapping of the ortolan.
The ortolan (emberiza hortulana – should there be any
classicist ornithologists amongst my remaining readers) is a tiny little thing
– highly rated by greedy Gauls - that is force fed in a little dark box, then
drowned in Armagnac and roasted before the whole thing is scoffed, bones and
all. To get the most from the experience, one should apparently drape a linen
napkin over one’s head to enjoy all the tasty birdie aromas.
I can kind of see what the CABS’s objection is, but if
you’re going to eat miniature buntings, you might as well do it properly.
It’s around about this time of year when I turn my mind to
personal gains that can be achieved from the mass slaughter of tiny birds and
begin to drool unattractively in gluttonous anticipation. Within the next
couple of weeks there will be young partridge in the local butchers’ shops,
blasted from the skies above landed estates and perhaps the tastiest treat of
early autumn. More affordable than the grouse, and with a less scatological
flavour, this is a dickie-bird I really relish.
Woodpigeon too, shot over the stubble fields are available
now. Plump-breasted, cheap, and plentiful (which reminds me of a weekend I once
lost in Amsterdam – maybe an anecdote for another time), this is vermin worth
seeking out. Braised whole for a long time with peas – frozen work fine, those
grey-green French jobbies in jars are even better – or just the breasts sautéed
quickly in butter with some fried field mushrooms…Oh my!
Sorry CABS members, I won’t be signing up any time soon, so
I’m out.
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