Hi.

I know it’s been a long time since anything new has graced this site, and I wanted to apologize for the silence. I needed a sabbatical something fierce to deal with life and such.  The good news is that my energy is back up, and I’m excited to start posting again.  As a matter of fact, I’d like to announce that Saturday I will be doing a straight 24 hours of cooking and posting recipes from “The Cookbook” as atonement-with a live video feed of me working in the kitchen! Hopefully I’ll get ten or fifteen new recipes completed, if not more.  Specifics to come as the weekend gets closer.

Now, where did we leave off…

Oh, yes.  Sacramento.  Here’s a quick flashback to refresh everyone’s memory.

(Insert Wayne’s World flashback intro here) Diddly-doot! Diddly-doot! Diddly-doot!

Paul C. of the Xesla Research Organisation submitted an amazing duck recipe for a contest thrown by Hank Shaw over at Hunter Angler Gardener Cook with the grand prize being a free dinner at the second annual duck cook off with Chef Michael Tuohy of Grange and a hotel for the night for two.  Paul knocked it out of the park, winning in fine fashion.  Fortunately for me, Paul kindly extended an invitation my way to fly out to Sacramento with him.  I accepted (of course) and we had one hell of a time.  To make the trip even more exciting, Hank invited Paul and I along on a hunting excursion.

(Insert Wayne’s World flashback exit here) Diddly-doot! Diddly-doot! Diddly-doot!

The morning after our excursion to Yountville, Paul and I woke up early and shuffled out of the hotel in anticipation of Hank’s arrival.  As we waited a discussion broke out over what sort of vehicle the outdoorsman would pull up in.  As Paul joking suggested a Smart Car, Hank showed up in much more acceptable transportation and we were off to the hunting grounds.

Hank plied us with strong coffee and insights to his time on the line at Grange as he drove.  Before I knew it we were parking on the side of the road. We’d arrived.  Hank asked us if we had any Blaze Orange items to wear, which we did not.  Thankfully he had spare bright orange hats for both of us to sport as we walked along with the hunters.  Nothing screams “DON’T SHOOT ME!” like Blaze Orange.

A line had already formed for the hunters to pay their fees and we dutifully joined up. We were shortly joined by Hank’s hunting partner Cork Graham, a well known hunting journalist, and his friend Robin Hale. Cork and Hank decided which of the fields they thought would be best to hunt in, and we headed out.

Upon arrival, we got to meet a handsome little devil named Ziggy. Ziggy is Cork’s Brittany Spaniel and was our pointer for the hunt.

And this was the alfalfa field we were going to hunt in.  Hank explained in the car ride up that format-wise this was a bit of an unusual hunt for him.  The people holding the hunt had let about 40 pheasants free in the field the night before-hand.  The birds then spread out and hid themselves amongst the foliage.  The next morning the hunters (us) walked the field, flushing the birds into the air to be targets.  Hank prefers a more natural environment to hunt in, but had no problems with the prospect of bagging his limit of pheasant regardless of the setup.

The hunters and walkers (like Paul and I) lined up across the massive field. The anticipation and excitement was thick in the air.  Once everyone had taken their place, the hunting marshal gave the signal and the hunt was on!

Here you can see the line making its way across the field.  The dogs darted ahead weaving back and forth, back and forth trying to spook the game birds out of their hiding places.  It’s astonishing how small pheasants can make themselves.  Days later while talking to my father about the hunt he recalled startling one out of roughly four inches of brush.

Soon enough, Ziggy had found one of the hiding pheasants.  Hank was given the first crack at it, and calmly took the bird out of the air.  It became glaringly obvious that Hank was truly an expert at hunting in short order by his precise, compact movements and single shot.  Upon inspecting the bird, none of the shotgun pellets had pierced the body.  Only the bird’s wings had been broken which was enough to kill it.  It was surreal how quickly the whole event transpired.

And lest you think that shooting birds out of the sky is a simple shot, moments later this young hunter missed a pheasant that was no more than five feet in front of him not once, not twice, but 4 times! Moments like that led Hank to cry out, “Happy new year!” as the gunfire did resemble a the booms of a proper fireworks display.

We then continued walking back and forth across the field until everyone was satisfied.  Cork bagged himself two pheasants, and Hank was content with his one bird. I tried contributing as well, but sadly my targets were a little too easy.

Here’s a close up the bird’s gorgeous plumage.

And here’s a shot of all five of us.

Having seen hunting now first hand, I can understand the allure of it. It’s a very real way of feeling much like I would presume a predator does when it’s out on the prowl. It spoke to something deep in my being, and I liked it. A lot. I think I’ll be signing up for a hunting license here sometime soon.

I’d like to thank Paul C. for inviting me out to Sacramento, Hank and Chef Touhy for feeding me some wonderfully magnificent food and Cork for helping experience hunting for the first time.