The other day I was presented with a buck hare. The liver looked at me and said ‘pate.’ Sliced and gently fried with butter and the wee kidneys its began to firm up. The shredded wild garlic from by my compost heap wilted in the pan too.
You know those little gadgets with a windy handle that you can mince down parsley. Well, I found ours and employed it to mill the cooked liver mix. Placing the even paste into a stoneware bowl, it was left to rest.
On an bere meal biscuit this rich comestible tasted of the essence of Orkney wilds.
I don’t hunt game myself, but am always glad of a gift from nature.
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