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First world problems
Dec. 24th, 2018 12:00 pmSo, I decided to let Waitrose do the heavy lifting this year, on the grounds that (a) I needed a bunch of heavy household staples and (b) I refuse to set foot into any shop other than a supermarket in December (aargh! the parking! aargh! the crowds! aargh! the rubbish passing for seasonal merchandise! aargh! the incessant Christmas muzaak!), and won't go to a supermarket in the 4 or 5 days before Christmas (waily waily! the shops are going to shut for 2 whole days. We will starve -- let us pretend to be locusts and strip the shelves of everything ! Or perhaps, let us practice for Brexit...)
I digress. I don't celebrate Christmas but at this time of year it is possible to buy foods that are not so easily available elsetimes -- like a small pheasant boneless breast roast that needs no faff and feeds two without any waste. We can (and have) eaten it very happily while watching Phred foraging for the seeds that have fallen out of the bird feeder. Red cabbage prepared in advance a la Saint Delia, some roasted sprouts, onions, parsnips and carrots, and some redcurrant jelly -- very nice and no trouble at all to prepare.
Another digression: Every year Phred the pheasant turns up in the autumn -- maybe even sometimes a repeat visitor -- they can live up to three years in the wild. And some years we get not only Phred but a cavalcade of much more sensible Phredas --- when your survival depends on not being spotted by 'the guns' wouldn't you want to be drab? The Phreds and Phredas that populate the village gardens are obviously the intelligent ones released for the shoot -- they've found a haven where they get fed and can't get shot. The slightly-less intelligent ones sit in the middle of the road -- they can't get shot there either, but...
Which reminds me of a story that a good friend of mine once told: her parents (in Norfolk) pulled up at a petrol station and were alerted to an unfortunate pheasant adorning their front grille by another customer. "There's a dead pheasant on the front of your car. Do you want it?" "Uhh, no." "I'll just take it -- thanks then" and he walked away with (I presume) a meal. I'm glad to say, all I've ever found in my car grille is a little brown job that wasn't able to fly fast enough to escape. (I do my best to avoid anything and everything living on the road -- deer and horses for obvious reasons, but everything else on principle).
Anyway... did I mention the year that a Phreda appeared in the garden at Christmas visibly lame and unable to take off from the snowy ground? So I constructed at zero notice a pheasant shelter that was snow free (off the ground) and supplied with potable water and sunflower hearts (high calorific value). Phreda was observed to take advantage and was gone the following morning with no fox tracks in the snow...
Back to Waitrose and my Christmas delivery. According to their substitution policy 'small pheasant boneless breast roast for 2' == 'Smoked Ham & Pheasant Terrine'. Which the drivers took back with them. I do have stuff in the freezer to fall back on, so we will not be sitting on Christmas Day looking out on Phred with a plate of vegetables in front of us (with which I'd be happy but the lodger, less so).
I digress. I don't celebrate Christmas but at this time of year it is possible to buy foods that are not so easily available elsetimes -- like a small pheasant boneless breast roast that needs no faff and feeds two without any waste. We can (and have) eaten it very happily while watching Phred foraging for the seeds that have fallen out of the bird feeder. Red cabbage prepared in advance a la Saint Delia, some roasted sprouts, onions, parsnips and carrots, and some redcurrant jelly -- very nice and no trouble at all to prepare.
Another digression: Every year Phred the pheasant turns up in the autumn -- maybe even sometimes a repeat visitor -- they can live up to three years in the wild. And some years we get not only Phred but a cavalcade of much more sensible Phredas --- when your survival depends on not being spotted by 'the guns' wouldn't you want to be drab? The Phreds and Phredas that populate the village gardens are obviously the intelligent ones released for the shoot -- they've found a haven where they get fed and can't get shot. The slightly-less intelligent ones sit in the middle of the road -- they can't get shot there either, but...
Which reminds me of a story that a good friend of mine once told: her parents (in Norfolk) pulled up at a petrol station and were alerted to an unfortunate pheasant adorning their front grille by another customer. "There's a dead pheasant on the front of your car. Do you want it?" "Uhh, no." "I'll just take it -- thanks then" and he walked away with (I presume) a meal. I'm glad to say, all I've ever found in my car grille is a little brown job that wasn't able to fly fast enough to escape. (I do my best to avoid anything and everything living on the road -- deer and horses for obvious reasons, but everything else on principle).
Anyway... did I mention the year that a Phreda appeared in the garden at Christmas visibly lame and unable to take off from the snowy ground? So I constructed at zero notice a pheasant shelter that was snow free (off the ground) and supplied with potable water and sunflower hearts (high calorific value). Phreda was observed to take advantage and was gone the following morning with no fox tracks in the snow...
Back to Waitrose and my Christmas delivery. According to their substitution policy 'small pheasant boneless breast roast for 2' == 'Smoked Ham & Pheasant Terrine'. Which the drivers took back with them. I do have stuff in the freezer to fall back on, so we will not be sitting on Christmas Day looking out on Phred with a plate of vegetables in front of us (with which I'd be happy but the lodger, less so).
