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Spring and Love in the Air - Sat Apr 16, 2005 11:35 am

Spring is in the air. Love is in the air. And that, ironically is what ended vegetarianism for once and for all in Lurker household.

I have a woodlot on my back forty. Miss Knowlton was tooling around looking to see how the wild garlic was growing. She was bombing the trail on the new Honda Fourtrax ATV that her and Mum bought. As she topped a hill, there were two partridges rather engrossed in each other and the mating dance. Miss Knowlton tried to stop, but not before the brace of the partridge became ornaments on the pipe grille of the Fourtrax.

Being ever practical, she saw this as a present from the Bountiful Maker and brought them home. Now whenever there is a project that involves mess or the dismantling of animal or other biological species, they always choose my kitchen table. I swear that someday if you hear that we all died of Ebola, it came from my kitchen table.

Mum saved some of the prettier feathers for some crafts that they will sell. They cleaned and degutted the pair of birds and them roasted them. They rubbed the birds with garlic and salt. There wasn't an ounce of fat on the birds, so they wrapped them in pancetta bacon (savoury Italian round bacon). They were placed in a roasting pan and drizzled with maple syrup and juniper berries.

After the birds were done, they were put into the fridge. For lunch the next day, Mum and Miss Knowlton served me some. They cut the breast meat of the partridge into slices. Then they covered toast soldiers with watercress and a bit of Vidalia onion. Then they put the meat on top, and put a dollop of Miss Knowlton's wild grape and sage chutney on top. A sprinkling of cracked pepper topped it all, and I popped one into my mouth.

I thought that I had died and went to heaven. It was scrumptious. It was the end of vegetarianism for me.

As I was munching these treats, I asked Mum what they did with the guts. They said that they buried them in the garden for compost. I casually pointed at Toby, the Bordie Collie. He was licking his chops trying to get the little feathers off his mouth. He had a partridge treat the way he liked it -- buried for a day and a little bit ripe with the feathers on it.

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