pheasant, not peasant!

Having mortally offended my male parent by forgetting to take my brace of pheasants at Christmas, I had to accept the penalty of a 50% reduction in his affection... and was given one, naked pheasant last weekend.

Lucky me! And twice lucky that I didn't have to pluck and singe it, either. Having a constraint can be much easier sometimes. The constraint was time, the solution was casserole.

I chunked up the bird, taking off the leggy bits and breasts, and chopped the rest of the carcass in two. I browned it all in oil then removed to a plate, then flash-fried some diced pancetta in the pan and set aside with the pheasant.

Next, two small onions chopped finely and two cloves of garlic, sweated down.

Pheasant back in the pan, a glug of marsala, half a diced up squash and a few choice carrots... some marigold stock and a random 250 ml or so of beef stock from the freezer, which I was sick of seeing in there. Finally, some mushrooms from our veggie box were cleaned and added whole. It cooked for an hour then sat and mellowed until the next day.

After some wonderfully awkward, quiff and two-left footed dancing, dinner was dead quick. The casserole re-heated quickly with a dash of cream, and served with date cous cous* and toasted flaked almonds.

The gent chose wine from the very tiny Tesco selection. The label tells me it is 'Caves Saint-Pierre' and a 2007 Cotes du Rhone. The gent told me it is a mixture of grapes and not just from one grape. Or the other way round, and this is good because it avoids the flower bomb effect. Or, fruit bomb. Of cherry flavour, was it -? Perhaps I should have asked *before* we drunk it :/

*cous cous aside: it happened to be wholewheat cous cous, to which I added cinnamon, turmuric, chopped dates and marigold stock