From the order of grallatores, waders or stilt-birds, we find many
which yield choice dainties, whether it be the ostrich or emu for their
eggs, the bustard and bittern, the flamingo for its tongue, the plover,
dotterel, curlew, snipe, woodcock, rail, &c., for the table.
An ostrich egg is considered as equal in its contents to 24 of the
domestic hen. When taken fresh from the nest, they are very palatable,
and are wholesome, though somewhat heavy food. The best mode of
cooking them is that practised by the Hottentots, who place one end
of the egg in the hot ashes, and making a small orifice at the other,
keep stirring the contents with a stick till they are sufficiently
roasted; and thus, with a seasoning of salt and pepper, you have a very
nice omelet. The nest sometimes contains as many as 24 eggs, and the
difficulty the sportsman has is how to carry away his spoil. The usual
plan is to denude himself of his upper or lower garments, and, tying up
the orifices of leg-holes or arm-holes, to make an impromptu sack, in
which he can bear away his prize. If he leaves them, he will be sure to
find on his return that the ostrich has broken the eggs, because they
have been disturbed.
The eggs of the emu of South America are large, and, although the food
which they afford is coarse, it is not unpalatable.
The emu, or New Holland cassowary, is becoming rarer as settlements
advance. The same remark applies also to the kangaroo and other animals
against whom a war of extermination seems to have been declared.
The emu is easily domesticated when taken young, and becomes very
familiar with, and attached to, the dogs, which generally leads to
the death of a tame one. A full-grown one, when erect, stands seven
feet high. The natives creep on them and spear them. The eggs are of a
tea green colour, with a watered appearance on the surface. There is
a singularity in the growth of the feathers--two of them spring from
one quill. The bird is principally valued for its oil. The skin of a
full-grown bird produces six or seven quarts of oil, clear, and of a
beautiful bright yellow colour. The method of extracting or ‘trying’
out the oil is to pluck the feathers, cut the skin into pieces, and
boil it; but the aborigines prefer the flesh with the skin upon it,
regarding it as the Esquimaux do the flesh of whales and seals, as a
highly luscious treat. The flesh is eaten by Europeans, and preferred
by some to the kangaroo; the rump part is considered as delicate as
fowl; the legs coarser, like beef, but still tender.
Bustards are plentiful in many parts of the Cape Colony, and the
smaller sorts, called _koerhans_, are approachable in a bush country;
but the larger kinds, called _paws_, are a great prize, as they are
found on plains, and are generally shot with ball. In Australia, the
bustard is called, colonially, the wild turkey. It is a fine large
bird, frequently weighing 12 to 15 lbs., and extending full six feet,
from tip to tip of the wings. There it is declared excellent for
eating, but its flesh is much too gamey for ordinary palates.
Don Pernetty, in his _Historical Journal of the Voyage to the Falkland
Islands_, under the command of M. de Bouganville, says, they found the
bustard ‘exquisite either boiled, roasted, or fricasseed. It appeared
from the account we kept that we ate 1,500. It is, indeed, hardly to be
conceived that the ship’s company of our two frigates, consisting of a
hundred and fifty men, all in perfect health and with good stomachs,
should have found a quantity of these birds sufficient for their
subsistence during a stay of more than two months, within a tract of
country not exceeding three leagues.’
But they also tried other descriptions of feathered game. The wild
ducks were found, in general, to have the taste of mussels. Of a kind
of grey goose, weighing about 19 or 20 lbs., it is reported: ‘Its flesh
was oily, had a disagreeable smell and a fenny taste; but it was eaten
by the ships’ companies when no bustards were given them.’
The clucking hen of Jamaica (_Ardea scolopacea_), on the authority
of Browne and Robinson, is looked upon as the best wild fowl in the
country, although the latter writer tells us it feeds upon snakes,
toads, and lizards, as well as wood snails and gully crabs. The flavour
is, however, represented to be remarkably fine--a compound of ham,
partridge, and pigeon. The flesh is of a peculiarly close and compact
texture, and very tender.
The mangrove hen (_Rallus Virginianus_), indigenous to the watery
marshes of Jamaica, greatly resembles the dappled grey variety of the
common fowl. At the pullet age, the young birds are run down, when
feeding on the mud, with great facility. At this time, I have found
them to be delicious eating. Persons, on whose taste reliance may be
placed, say that, though a plover be undoubtedly a fine bird for the
table, and the sanderling a great delicacy, the young mangrove hen
exceeds both, as it combines all their peculiarity of flavour with
the fleshiness of the quail. This is no small commendation. But much
depends upon your _cuisinier_; if he is a good _artiste_--a man of
undoubted talents, it matters little what the materials be.
The _Rallus crex_ is another esteemed dainty of no ordinary kind, and a
most delicious bird.
In the reign of Henry the Eighth, the bittern was held in great esteem
at the tables of the great. Its flesh has much the flavour of hare, and
is far from being unpleasant.
Snipe of all kinds, from the ‘teeterer,’ that hovers about the edge of
the surf, to the jack snipe (_Scolopax gallinula_), half-brother to
the woodcock, are in high esteem for the table. The ‘green’ sportsman
finds these birds the most perplexing of all feathered game when on the
wing. Their catter-cornered, worm-fence line of flight renders them
very difficult to hit, until long practice has rendered the marksman’s
eye familiar with their erratic movements. Some sportsmen take them at
an angle; others after they have made their tack; and others, again,
seem to blaze away at them without any particular aim, and yet always
bring down their bird. The yellow-legged snipe is in America considered
the best species for the table. They should be larded and roasted in
bunches of three, and served in gravy made from their own unctuous
drippings. There are few side-dishes more popular with epicures than
snipe on toast. Some cooks stuff them with a composition of bread
crumbs and egg, highly seasoned; but, in my opinion, they are far
better without this kind of ‘trimmings.’
While the trail of the woodcock is a choice morsel with the English
epicure, the inhabitants of the North of Europe, to whose forests the
woodcocks retire in the summer, never eat the birds, esteeming their
flesh unwholesome, from the circumstance of their having no crops. But
they are particularly fond of the eggs, which the boors offer for sale
in large quantities in the principal markets, and this contributes,
possibly, to make the birds so scarce.
The semi-palmated snipe, better known by its common sobriquet of
‘pill-will-willet,’ the loud shrill note which it emits, is at certain
periods of the year esteemed an excellent bird in America. It ought
to be served up in the mode that snipes usually are, and for these
delicious viands it is esteemed a tolerable substitute when in good
order.
Dampier, nearly two centuries ago, speaking of the flamingo, says:
‘Their flesh is lean and black, but not ill-tasted. They have large
tongues, and near the root of them a piece of fat, which is accounted a
great dainty.’
The flamingo was much esteemed by the Romans at their sumptuous
entertainments. Their flesh is thought tolerably good food, and the
tongue was looked upon by the ancients as among the most delicate of
all eatables. Pliny, Martial, and many other writers, speak of it in
the highest terms of commendation. Many who have tried it, consider
the flesh extremely rich, much like that of the wild duck, but with
a strong fishy taste. The tongue is certainly delicate, but scarcely
worthy the high encomiums bestowed on it by the ancients.
During the surveying expedition of Captain Owen, on the east coast of
Africa, the sailors used to shoot hundreds of these beautiful birds for
the purpose of making a dish of the tongues alone. The remainder of the
bird--in imitation of the Roman epicures--being thrown away.