HUNTER-GATHERING: wild & fresh food

Pigeon Carpaccio & Wilderness Gathering.

Pigeon has to be my favourite meat hands down, for a while beef and lamb where up there, but the free-rangeness of the wood pigeon and the fact it is wild is a comforting thought indeed. I’ve never bothered so much with chicken- it’s a tasteless bird on the whole and after HFW’s big chicken out campaign I thought rather than fork out an extortionate amount for blandness, I stopped buying it all together, same with fish unless I catch them myself. Too much fuss and politics to inflict on the palate methinks.

Pigeon are wily buggers indeed and taking them down can be frustrating. A couple of key features in the pigeon’s survival kit is unbelievably quick flight (50mph-80mph) and, more importantly, seriously good eyesight with the ability to clock an Englishman peeing in the woods a mile away.

The only real success I have had with them, in terms of sheer numbers is from decoying, but they have succumbed in some odd ways over the years: A shot with an air rifle whilst relaxing in a hammock chair on the Tree house balcony (easy supper), once whilst paddling down a river in a coracle they dropped from the sky into the boat (nearby decoyers) and lastly but by no means leastly- taking a bush pee in a hedgerow, 12-bore under arm and taking a unobservant passer by down, tackle out (bird must have been blind- Jammy beyond belief).

Being a fine, lean red meat, pigeon seemed perfect for Carpaccio so I decided to do some playing around in the kitchen. Carpaccio is actually rather a recent taste sensation and as we know it, has only been with us since the 1950’s: Ever since Countess Amalia Nani Mocenigo walked into Harry’s Bar in Venice (also the home of the Bellini) and informed the propreiter that her doctor had recommended she only eat raw meat. The dish that Giuseppe Cipriani, the then owner produced, was so named because the colours of the food reminded him of the paintings by the Venetian painter Vittore Carpaccio. Bang, bosh, shebing.

The portable HQ- always busy morning, noon and night with taster dishes.

Last weekend I took Hunter:Gather:Cook on the road to Wilderness Gathering with my trusty companion Ash (he has a fine blog on outdoor cooking escapades-check out here) to cook up plenty of wild fodder for bushcraft enthusiasts aplenty. We also took along a roe buck and a dozen pigeons and rabbits to play with over the three days. Pit Roast venison, cold smoked venison, puffball and rabbit pie, wild salads, panfried saddle of rabbit wrapped in parma ham with sage & mustard, beetroot borscht with horseradish cream were just a few of the dishes we knocked together to showcase what HGC is all about (Ash even manged to collaborate on a cake baked in his dutch oven and won 1st prize in the cake comp!).

Ash manhandles the Roebuck down from cold storage.

A wonderful festival and we met some great folks- definitely keen for next year. This recipe is a revised version of the improvised one I knocked together for our ‘small game preparation and cooking’ workshop. The feedback was excellent, but not as good as our ‘Wild Brewing’ workshop which included plenty of samples!

 

Pigeon Carpaccio.

This recipe does require a bit of preparation- at least 12 hours in a marinade, but 24 if possible. Alternatively, if you wish to do it immediately, you can smoke the pigeon over smouldering oak or sawdust for an hour to give it a bit of a smoky flavour.

Wild ingredients are, as ever, a great addition to this recipe and there are some perfect matches in the hedgerows at the moment which coincide nicely with the amount of pigeon decoying going on across the country- farmer’s crops need protecting, so if you cant go out and shoot them yourself, most good Game dealers should have plenty in stock.

Wild Horseradish growing near Black Cap on the South Downs.

The two wild additions for the Carpaccio are Horseradish (both young leaves and the fiery root) wood sorrel (for sharpness) and elderberries. A word on these- The young leaves of horseradish have a nice pepperiness to them and a slight bitterness which make a good substitute for rocket. Elderberries do contain minute traces of cyanide, which is broken down by cooking, although a small handful of raw berries is harmless.

For the marinade:

• 6 pigeon breasts
• 150ml olive oil
• 50ml cider vinegar
• 2 cloves of garlic (roughly chopped)
• 1 carrot (roughly chopped)
• 1 stick of celery (roughly chopped)
• 1 small red onion (roughly chopped)
• Black pepper (good twist)
• 1tsp Salt
• 2 sprigs of rosemary
• 4 bay leaves

Mix together in a bowl, cover and refrigerate overnight. Put the breasts in the freezer for 1 hour before cutting wafer thin.

Carpaccio Ingredients:

• 1/2 horseradish root (grated)
• Handful of young horseradish leaves
• 1 cluster of elderberries
• Parmesan shavings
• Wood sorrel
• Gherkins (chopped
• Capers
• Olive oil
• Squeeze of lemon
• Salt & pepper

 

Arrange all ingredients on a large plate, season to taste and serve with fine red wine and crusty bread.

Carpaccio Construction.

Puffballs found on the farm at HGC- good haul!

Pastis, Petanque and the Perfect Vinaigrette…

I’ve had the French under a microscope for some time now. Studying them as if it was some kind of science project, what makes them tick, what do they eat? What do they drink? What do they do? And above all: why they don’t quite understand what the little lever next to the steering wheel is actually used for.

Of course my research has been conducted in a relatively small part of France, Hossegor, Bayonne and Biarritz: the South-West in high summer- the Cornish Riviera for the Gauls. Although my fumbling grasp of the native language is weak, I can understand most things if said at a reasonable pace and try to avoid direct translation from English to French. I’m not sure what I was taught at school, but it doesn’t seem to apply when ACTUALLY in France…apart from the vocab, that is handy.

Living by the beach is great apart from in July and August when the place has turned into nothing short of a bloody circus, the place seems like the Gallic equivalent of Rock or Polzeath- packed to the brim with hormone-fuelled rich kids with little else in mind than booze, necking one another and playing crap Euro-pop as loud as the gallivanting Gendarmerie will allow. I don’t think I have had a full night sleep without a dawn chorus of drunken teen for two weeks.

   

So what have I learnt so far? Some of it may sound scathing, but I find it all deeply amusing and sort of loveable. These traits are what makes France, well…France.

1. The French have a penchant for public urination and will exercise the will to do so, when and where they please, regardless of time, place or spectators. Even ladies too…I had the pleasure (?) of watching a lass mark her territory by the entrance to our underground parking- Paula Radcliffe eat your heart out.
2. There is nothing more annoying or frustrating than going into a shop or such like and doing your best to speak French only for them to reply in English. The conversation ensues with you speaking French and them English. I haven’t worked out wether they are just trying to be kind and helpful or smug. I don’t think my grasp of their tongue is that bad, if I’m going to make the effort so should they.
3. Driving. Now this is a special subject. It is a well-known fact throughout the rest of the world that the French can’t drive for shit. Citreon, Peugeot and Renault take note: Its only worth making your cars with a steering wheel, pedals and air conditioning, nothing else is going to be used. I have had a few near misses out here through lack of indication (and breaking for that matter). Also, Frenchies get a real hard-on over number plates and eyes always glance to your plates. If there English- forget it, you are last in god’s order. France is split into departments, each has its own number at the end of the plate for ID. If they have a 75 (Paris) at the end you might as well be English. The French hate Parisians more than the British hate Londoners.
4. Dress. Well what can I say, around here in Surf central most of the lads enjoy wearing stupid big, flat visored truckers caps that make them look even more retarded than a baboon on crack. If the sun is shining they will walk around flexing every muscle possible in the hope of getting an ‘ooolala’ or ‘vavavoom’ or whatever it is they say. The female of the species dresses quite well, especially on the beach where they wear virtually nothing at all apart from bikini bottoms. Vive le France, Vive indeed. Oh Yes, you can spot the Parisians on the beach- strictly designer swimwear, Ladies wear big white sun hats, gents like the nut-huggers (speedos).
5. Food. Hossegor sits on the cusp of two mighty gastronomic dynasties. In Aquitaine it is all about food from terra firma, all very rich and packed with herbs, butter and wine. To the south Basque country begins, lots of Pinxtos (tapas) red peppers, chillis and seafood. Around here you would be more likely to find a leper colony than a chilli. French people don’t like hot food. Fact. But garlic and everything that goes with it is warmly embraced. There is, much to my delight plenty of duck and fois gras around here, cruelty to geese is a national pastime and although we may find it an awkward subject back in the UK, out here, they don’t fuck about with where their food comes from. Kill it, cook it, eat it with lashings of red wine and bread to mop it up, whilst grinning inanely. Oh yes, the French do have a strange habit of boiling their potatoes and then scraping the skin off with a knife, weird I know. It’s a potato, not a pineapple.
6. Drink. The Brits reading will be pleased to know that binge drinking is just as rife over here as it is in the UK- In Leclerc yesterday I had two lads buying six bottles of vodka in front of me, with no mixers. As it is so close to Spain Sangria does feature heavily, only too much at the fete de Bayonne- allegedly the biggest fete in the world (probably true because no-one outside of France calls them fetes). Arriving back from Bilbao the other week I found myself slap bang in the middle of a heaving maelstrom of white and red beings all absolutely conkered. The Fete de Bayonne is a five day piss up where traditional dress, all white with red neckerchief is mandatory. Sangria is liberally thrown about staining everything in the vicinity. Apparently it is a rather pleasant family affair during the day but at night, due to the French appreciation for public urination, rivers of piss and vomit roll into one. Good clean fun, I must go next year! Seriously.

 

Which brings me onto the subject of the post- Pastis. PASTIS! I first tried it last year when we went to a friends for supper. Eager to find out a bit about it, I enquired as to what it was and why it is such a common drink (the French consume 130 million litres of it per year). Eager to fit in I accepted a glass of it and sat there swilling it in the glass as the two French lads looked on in earnest- will the Ros Boeuf take it like a man? I did, just. Having an aversion to Sambuca since Uni makes anything anise shut the gullet down. But its actually not too bad and I am proud to say I purchased my first bottle the other day, be it only a small one. What is really nice is to be able to go into the supermarket and purchase a tip-top bottle of Bordeaux for as little as 3 euros. Again, vive indeed. I also visited the Vin de Sable (wine of the sand) vineyard in the sand dunes just down the road in Capbreton…it was definitely and surprisingly worth the 9 euro price tag.

As for Petanque, apparently it goes very well with pastis, it is a national sport and there are some bad-ass old boys playing it in the park in Hossegor. When I have the courage and the linguistics to get involved- you will be the first to know! Great banter.

 

 

The Perfect Vinaigrette.

Had to include a recipe. Now I rarely buy salad dressing- except in France, they do make some good creamy ones I must admit. Making your own is much more fun and its great to play around with. Out here, because it is so bastard hot, Salad features at every mealtime except breakfast. Over the years one keeps cropping up on a regular basis and whilst I will give you the ingredients, you will have to work out the quantities for yourself, I might want to bottle and sell it one day…

 

Ingredients:

• Olive oil
• Balsamic Vinegar
• Maggi
• Worcestershire sauce (Lea & P)
• Soy sauce
• Dijon Mustard
• Salt
• Pepper
• Sugar
• Lemon Juice
• Mixed Herbs

Next week, I must return to Mother Blighty for a hectic month of courses at Hunter:Gather:Cook HQ, before donning my beret in September and moving to France full time. HGC will be running in 2012- the course schedule will be up in October. Lots of other stuff been going on: Check out Reader’s Digest this month to read the feature I did on living as a caveman for a week, and also have a watch of this HD vid from Mazda of foraging in the skies with Reggie Yates.

   

 

The office in Hossegor- a difficult place to work with too many distractions.