Apparently Google has its knickers all in a twist over those cunts in the Eu and some shite about cookies. Frankly if they are biscuits then I will eat them, if you are concerned about this then fuck off somewhere else and read something else.

Saturday, 3 January 2009

Pheasant Pluckers

Alex and I have spent this evening preparing our Sunday lunch, a brace of fine pheasants shot by us both;

First lay out your birds, ours were kept in the game safe in the very cold garage until we were ready;

The birds get laid out and the beer is poured;

Plop the birds on their backs and pluck away, pull the feathers in ones and twos awaay from the tail exposing as much flesh and trying not to tear them.

Roll them over and start on the back in the same manner and then pull away at the tail and wing feathers;

Then you need to trim off the wings, legs and head;

then draw the bird and clean out the crop and the cavity;

The birds are left to drain for a couple of hours and then popped in the fridge, tomorrow afternoon they'll be wrapped in bacon and roasted for a short while!

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