HG refers to the squab, HG’s favorite little bird. Better than a baby chicken, a duckling, a quail or (usually tasteless) Cornish Game Hen. The squab is a domestic, farm raised pigeon. Succulent. It was a staple on New York restaurant menus often served with wild rice or stuffed with shallots, mushrooms and other attractive things. Alas, it disappeared as diners became oddly squeamish regarding small birds.
It remained, however, alive in barbecue form in some Chinatown restaurants. The best version of Chinese-style squab can be found at the Sun Sui Wah restaurant in the Mt. Pleasant neighborhood of Vancouver, Canada. This is a dark brown bird — served whole of course — with lacquered, crackling skin. HG liked to bite the bird’s head off much to the consternation of HG’s sensitive dining companions.
HG’s most memorable squab was consumed at the Au Bon Acceuil bistro
(near the Eiffel Tower) in Paris. Slices of rare roasted squab were fanned out over a pungent, dark red wine sauce. A bit of watercress added a touch of green. It was accompanied by a creamy, buttery potato puree. HG ate this in November a few years ago with a bottle of very fruity just arrived Beaujolais Nouveau. A nice Paris interlude.
Join HG in wishing for a return of squab to the better dining tables.
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