HUNGRY GERALD

HG/BSK’s oceanfront Prince Edward Island home provides an ongoing avian show. Double-crested Cormorants flock together on a rock formation in the sea, looking very much like a convention of black cloaked elders. They jump as they dive for a fish. There are many Gulls soaring through the air, gracefully riding the air currents. Herring gulls, Ring-billed Gulls and Great Black-Billed Gulls are among the species. There are numerous Herons with their distinctive long necks and elongated flight patterns. Along the shore are Plovers and Sandpipers scurrying about on their skinny legs. And, on the lawn leading to the sea are Robins, a wide assortment of Wrens and an occasional Hummingbird. HG/BSK’s favorite bird is the Osprey. They fly through the sky and then, like a helicopter, hover in space. In spectacular fashion they dive feet first and often come up with a fish and carry it off in their talons. HG/BSK reserve their hatred for Crows. These smart, loud mouthed birds perch outside HG/BSK’s bedroom and make piercing wakeup “Caw-caw” sounds. A few days ago, angry BSK hurled a tennis ball at them before returning to a warm bed. They have another unpleasant habit. They are “purple poopers.” They gobble up blueberries from an adjacent field and then stain the deck with their purple droppings. Bad birds. Being a gourmand rather than an ornithologist, HG prefers birds cooked. Favorite bird is the chicken (Especially when marinated/spatchcocked/roasted by BSK). Next favorite is the duck in many forms. The breast seared rare (served as “duck steak” at the Chez Georges bistro in Paris). As duck confit In Paris or barbecued in numerous Chinese restaurants. Best duck dish is Peking Duck with its separate services of crisp skin and juicy meat. HG often enjoys pigeon (served blood rare) in Paris bistros and squab (baby pigeon) that has been barbecued and glazed. Best version is at Vancouver’s Sun Sui Wah restaurant. HG has no desire to eat the tiny Ortolans favored by French gourmets. The French, a people much admired by HG, have some odd food choices. Ortolans and foul smelling chitterling sausages are among them

Years ago,squab, a dish HG much enjoyed, was found on the menus of many good New York restaurants. Rarely found anymore (except in New York’s various Chinatowns in Manhattan, Brooklyn and Queens). A squab is a very young pigeon, four weeks old or less. It is a lush little bird with meat that tastes like the very best dark meat of a chicken or turkey. HG recalls eating squab prepared in many delectable ways, usually roasted: stuffed with wild rice; roasted with fresh figs; wrapped in bacon and accompanied with juicy roast grapes. As noted, squab can be found in butcher shops in Chinese neighborhoods and on Chinese restaurant menus. The squab is usually butterflied and fried. The glazed skin turns very brown and its crackling texture goes nicely with the rich flesh. Forget Chinese tea. The best accompaniment is a good red Bordeaux or Cabernet Sauvignon. The best Chinese prepared squab in North America can be found at the excellent Sun Sui Wah restaurant in the Mt. Pleasant neighborhood of Vancouver, B.C.. HG’s dining companions at the restaurant were often disconcerted when HG bit off the little bird’s head and crunched the tasty little morsel. HG has no sentimentality when it comes to dining.

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.