Imperative Cooking: geese and their necks 3nJ L ) 4 Le4AL0..
NOW 'summer' is here, there is no time to be lost. Imperative cooks should be pre- paring for Christmas. In past columns I have repeatedly urged the necessity for urban Spectator readers to forge links with the country (Ah! Community!), the de- lights of outings and the importance of getting to know one's ingredients while they are still alive. Now is the time to combine all three in the adopt-a-gosling scheme.
You shall have goose for Christmas this year and must select her now. No nasty frozen, mash-fed, Comintern-bred and supermarket-sold goose for you: get your bottom off the arm- or deck-chair and the family into the car. You're going into the country to choose your gosling, name her (Glenys), pay your deposit and give in- structions to her current owner on how you want her brought up.
You may, if you wish, drive round and round, sunroof open, children with their heads sticking out gosling-spotting ('Michael, they really should be wearing their belts'). Once a flock is spotted, you can approach the owner on 'spec'. Better perhaps, do some research in the pub (it's surprising how much rural knowledge and connections urban pubs still can produce) or consult your friendly and knowledge- able butcher (you do have a friendly and knowledgeable butcher).
Geese first lay eggs around St Valen- tine's Day (they were a little late this year), so your gosling is well' advanced into adolescence by now and past most dangers — the survival rate of very young goslings is far from 100 per cent. Foxes apart, you should be able to count on Glenys turning up ready in December. Most breeds are acceptable for the table but avoid any which have run with and may have inter- bred with Chinese — they're not inscrut- able, just thin. Stipulate that Glenys is to be given lots of grain over the last weeks of her life but not permanently penned: you want her fattish but still tasting of grass. Arrange to collect her a few days before Christmas: she will taste better if hung a little but make sure she is starved for her last day. You may ask the farmer to kill her but then you will have to insist on the method: better do it yourself, or if you have already done it before, teach the children. 'Adopt-a-gosling' is nothing if not an educational scheme. Poultry can be killed by wringing their necks, severing the jugular vein (sticking) or chopping through the neck. You will ciF the last. Done properly it is humane; do it properly; if in doubt get someone to teach you first hand. And don't distress GlenYs before you kill her. The traditional English method involves contortions with two broom handles and is not kind. And anyway, I promised you should have the recipe for stuffed goose neck and there 5 not much point in giving it to you if you've messed up the neck. So chop off the head as high up the neck as possible with orie blow onto a wooden block. The neck will contort and spurt blood: have the children there with a bowl ready to catch it: it goes back into the stuffed neck later. Nothing wasted.
If you are plucking Glenys 'dry', do. it immediately after execution: it's easier while she's hot. Hold the skin tight with one hand while you pluck with the other. You do not want to tear the skin over the fatty breast. Burn any remaining doWn hairs off with a butane blow-torch (gas flame does not discolour); then hang Glenys by her feet. The day before you eat her, eviscerate her as you would anY poultry: any book will tell you how to prepare Glenys for the oven and table. Now, to the neck. What you stuff is the skin of the neck which makes a tube just under a foot long. Sew up one end and stuff it with the chopped liver (minus gall bladder), cleaned gizzard, flesh off the neck bone, heart, diced belly pork, garlic and the blood with a drop of mare. Sow UP the other end and poach for 20 minutes, then roast. The skin will go crispy and everyone will enjoy the neck so much that the bulk of Glenys will seem tame after- wards.
But both depend on getting moving now. So out you go, spot and commission your gosling and — one thought — don't then forget her till Christmas. Drive out occa- sionally to see how she is coming along. There we are: two fine meals, a communitY scheme to breach the urban-rural divide and an educational project practical enough to make Sir Keith's heart thumP with joy. I'm concerned with the next generation of imperative cooks, you know.
Digby Anderson
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