Having wrapped the little dickens in a fine strip of bacon, and slathering some butter over it, I set the dove in a small skillet on low heat, covered. Some freshly cracked pepper seemed necessary.
The savory scents arising from the lightly sizzling dove served to increase my appetite a thousand-fold. Some thirty to forty minutes later found the de-winged beast on my plate.
The taste, savory and delicious, was comparable to chicken liver; the texture like that of a steak, well done.
Apart from the small, sharp bone which embedded itself ever so painfully in my gums, this was a very tasty morsel.
"Ah, food in the raw! I crave the tangy zest of wild game!"
~That cartoon dog that always wanted to eat those little gophers
~That cartoon dog that always wanted to eat those little gophers
Ooooooh, sounds tasty!
ReplyDeleteHow come you didn't make me any? ;-P
I once at scorpion you know....
Spencer
How come? A 2,000 mile trip would have resulted in cold, untasty dove.
ReplyDeleteIs that story one that will be handed down, generation to generation, about how Great-Great-Great-Grandpappy Spencer ate a scorpion?
Probably along with how you captured a Bigfoot, eh?
Oh yes. I will pass down that story with pride!
ReplyDeleteI didn't understand a word you just said...
ReplyDeleteWell, best grab my shotgun. Looks like I've been invaded.
NIHAU! NIHAU, MA! Hu zhou man sing chao! Choa chi, la tsun tsan za!
ReplyDelete