I discovered the comedy in cooking in college. My first roommate was from Iowa and cooked up a storm. She had cooking stuff – fryers, utensils, pots and pans, and cookbooks. I had none of that. The Irish are not known for their cuisine. I enjoyed the fruits of her labor however. But, the best times were dead ahead.
The few students who could not afford to fly out for Thanksgiving banded together for a party. Some guys went into the wilds of Colorado, armed with shotguns, and killed some pheasant for dinner. Being from New Jersey, I had to learn to appreciate people with guns who shot and ate their kill. And, I never had pheasant before. The best part was the keg of Micholob, but back to the pheasant: It tasted, mmm, good, but pretty soon, everybody was spitting out bullets, since pheasant are not very big, and the guys weren’t very good shots, so they shot each pheasant twenty or thirty times.
But imbetween cracking my teeth on bullets, the pheasant was tasty. And, the Michelob and other contraband kept the party going until the couch went on fire. And, then they put out the fire with the beer, but that’s enough of my freshman year.
So, should you want to try pheasant, I don’t suggest you go and shoot some, but there is a website, pheasant.com, and for $20 they ship you a pheasant.