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Photo by Holly A. Heyser
Dovapalooza continues. After our skimpy opening day hunt, Holly and I traveled south to the Coastal Range mountain ranch of our friend Michael Riddle at Native Hunt, where I girded myself for three days of hard cooking for the annual dove hunt Michael puts on for about 50 of his friends and clients.
I did this last year, in the original Dovapalooza, and nearly broke after something like 24 hours of cooking over a 72-hour weekend. Thankfully I had help this time, and the weekend went far easier. Unfortunately, I had fewer doves to cook on Labor Day. Last year I think I grilled about 100, this year only about 45. Such is hunting.
I grill my doves in a Spanish style I call “a la Mancha,” for no particular reason, and everyone loves them at the ranch. Here is the recipe, which, coincidentally, is republished in the Sacramento Bee this morning. It involves bacon fat, fresh herbs and smoked paprika and is a deceptively complex little morsel.
Holly — saints be praised! — finally shot her first-ever doves Monday morning, after getting skunked on three previous hunts. She got six birds, and I held back four from the Monday lunch, and then our friend Sam the Guide gave me two huge Eurasian collared doves, recent immigrants to California that are twice the size of normal doves. OK, they’re still teeny, but Eurasians average about 4 1/2 ounces plucked and gutted, while our native Mourning doves are closer to 2 1/2 ounces.
So we came home with enough doves for two good meals. How to cook them? Not a la Mancha again, and I’d just made a cool dish I call “Doves on the Feed,” where the birds are served over something they would normally eat, in this case grains of farro wheat. OK, I have a twisted sense of humor, I admit it…
Speaking of twisted, I decided to build last night’s recipe around the fact that at the Native Hunt ranch at least, we saw more quail than doves. Doves and quail are neighbors, so I decided to pair them. Sorta. I originally called this recipe “Doves Meet their Future Neighbors,” but that seemed too long, and vaguely Asian, like those recipes you see on menus: Think “Happy Family.”
And I wasn’t cooking Asian, although I think I will for our final dove dish of the season. This time I wanted to riff off a classic French croque madame, which is a grilled ham and cheese sandwich with a fried egg on top. Quail eggs in this case, and instead of ham, I’d breast out some doves.
Comforty-breakfasty food like meat and eggs and toast needs gravy, right? But I detest that awful, white, mawkish red-eye gravy typically served with biscuits in the South. Sue me. So instead I kept the French theme and made a veloute with butter, shallots, goose stock (I would have done it with dove stock, but it was a worknight and I did not have time), Armagnac and maple syrup. Yeah, baby, yeah…
Photo by Holly A. Heyser
As comforting and delicious as this all is, the dish still needed a bright note. So I left France and grabbed a gremolata from Italy, which is normally a mince of garlic, lemon zest and parsley. Only I didn’t have any parsley. But I did have mint, so I used it instead and it turned out to be a good call.
How was it? There was a lot going on with this dish, and keeping the gravy hot was tricky. But I’d serve this one up to the judges on Top Chef any day. Fun to eat, rich, salty, a little sweet, a little boozy, with a zing of mint and the bracing flavor of just-a-touch-of raw garlic.
Why go through all this effort? I am trying to broaden my repertoire with this little game bird. Most of us who hunt doves only have one or two recipes to cook them, usually involving bacon and a jalapeno chile. The reason is because unless you live in Argentina, the Imperial Valley of California or along the Mexican border in Arizona, New Mexico or Texas, you just don’t get that many doves in a season.
Dove hunting is a ceremonial opener to the hunting season and eating the doves is the ceremonial first wild game feast of the year. It is a rare hunt where everyone shoots enough of the birds to fill up on that first feast — and then comes home with more than one or two meals’ worth. And keep in mind that few hunters chase doves more than once or twice during the two-week opening season, and comparatively few doves are killed in California’s second season, which begins Nov. 14.
And to you non-hunters out there, only domestic squab comes close in flavor to doves. Lean red meat, fine-grained and savory all out of proportion to their size, doves may be teeny but they pack a lot of flavor. So do squab, but good ones run in excess of $15 a pound — a steep clip for a tender pigeon. If you’re in Britain, pigeons are far cheaper, so by all means try them there. If not, it’s worth the scratch to buy good squab now and again.
Or better yet, you could start hunting. It’s not that scary a prospect, really. I didn’t start until I was 32 years old. If you’ve always wanted to learn to hunt but haven’t known where to start, find friends who hunt and ask them. Or just ask me. I did it — so can you.
Photo by Holly A. Heyser
DOVES on TOAST with QUAIL EGGS
Consider this gourmet comfort food. Making this recipe requires about an hour’s effort, and you’ll finish it in minutes — what’s not to love? It has dove breasts, fried eggs, brown gravy and toast. But not just any dove breasts, fried eggs, brown gravy and toast.
First off, this recipe really needs to be done with doves. I suppose you could do it with squab breasts, or even quail breasts, but then you’d need to use chicken eggs to get the size correct.
Why quail eggs and dove breasts? My little joke: The birds live next to each other here in California, so I reckoned they’d taste good together.
You can find quail eggs at any Asian market, and often at ritzy places like Whole Foods. A word on breaking these little nuggets: Quail eggs have a thick membrane inside the shell, so open them with a very sharp knife that will cut that membrane. I ruined several eggs trying to crack them open like a chicken egg.
Cut the toast thick. This is an open-faced sandwich, so don’t skimp on the bread. It should be crusty and chewy; we use a Pugliese bread from Raley’s supermarket.
Use brandy and maple syrup with the gravy. You want it a little boozy and sweet. I use Armagnac, but you could use Cognac or other brandy. If you can’t find maple syrup, use honey.
Finally, this recipe cries out for a bright note, and that note is provided with a mint gremolata, a finely minced mixture of mint, raw garlic and lemon zest.
Serves 2.
Prep Time: 45 minutes
Cook Time: 15 minutes
- 6 dove breasts, or 2 squab breasts or quail breasts
- Kosher salt
- 4 thick slices of good bread
- 3 minced garlic cloves
- 2 tablespoons minced mint
- Grated zest of a lemon
- 4 tablespoons butter
- 2 tablespoons flour
- 1 minced shallot
- 1 shot brandy
- 2 cups stock: Either dove, other game, chicken or veggie
- 1/4 cup maple syrup
- 4 quail eggs or 2 chicken eggs
- Salt your dove or squab breasts and set out at room temperature for at least 15 minutes. Be sure to remove the little tenders on the insides of the breasts (Cook and eat them in the kitchen.)
- Make the gremolata by mixing lightly the minced garlic, mint and lemon zest. If you cannot find good fresh mint, use parsley.
- Turn the oven to “warm” and set a plate inside.
- Pour the stock into a small pot and bring it to a simmer.
- Heat 3 tablespoons of butter in a saute pan and sear the dove breasts over medium-high heat, skin side down. If you don’t have skin on your dove breasts (pity) just start searing them where the skin would have been. That first side should sear for about 3 minutes.
- Turn the dove breasts and continue cooking for a minute. Remove and set in the warm oven on the plate.
- Make the gravy. In the pan you cooked the doves in, add the shallot and cook until translucent over medium heat, about 1-2 minutes.
- Add the scant 2 tablespoons of flour; what I mean by “scant” is to really add less than 2 tablespoons, but to use the tablespoon as a measure — just don’t fill the spoon to the top with flour.
- Mix that flour in with a whisk and let it cook with the shallots, stirring constantly, for a minute or two. Don’t let it burn. If it has locked up all the butter in the pan, add a little more butter until it loosens up again.
- Once the roux (which is what you just made) has been cooked a few minutes, add the hot stock, whisking all the time. It should look velvety — this is called a veloute in French cooking.
- Bring this to a boil, then add the maple syrup and brandy. Let this cook down at a slow boil, stirring often, until it is thick like gravy. Add salt if needed. Once it is to your liking, turn the heat to its lowest setting.
- Put your bread slices in the toaster and set it to a pretty dark toast.
- Make the eggs. Put the remaining tablespoon of butter in a non-stick pan over medium-high heat and let it get good and hot.
- Carefully crack the quail eggs with a sharp knife (buy more eggs than you need as you will mess up a few) and carefully set them down into the hot butter. You want a nice fried egg with white surrounding the yolk. Sprinkle a little salt on the egg right away.
- Cook for 2-3 minutes over medium heat. Do not flip.
- To assemble, lay down 2-3 slices of toast on a plate. Pour over a generous portion of gravy. Top each slice with a dove breast and a fried quail egg. Sprinkle gremolata over it all.
- Serve with a good red wine, or a full-bodied white wine if you are using quail breasts.
Funny you should say this ‘just ask me. I did it — so can you.’
I asked on Twitter, and got a prompt response, unfortunately it’s fairly late in our season here to find an open hunters saftey school. I’ll need to remember next season to sign up early.
As a side note, do you, or have you considered bow hunting?
Also, do you hunt private game preserves? or mostly public hunting ground?
AO
All look like terrific recipes, Hank… I definitely plan on trying them this season. My opening day was a little less eventful: http://8moremiles.blogspot.com/2009/09/flights-canceled-due-to-fog.html
Wow, that looks fantastic. I do love the irony of the quail egg alongside of the dove breast. You know, Paul Simon is supposed to have found the inspiration for “Mother and Child Reunion” while eating “Happy Family” at a restaurant in New York’s Chinatown.
Very interesting Tina,
About the Paul Simon song (Mother and Child Reunion) , as I like him very much and did not know that about the origins of the song.
I like Red Eye Gravy too Hank! Must be a Southern Thang”
Loved having you out as always!
Hank, that’s an interesting take on doves right there… wonder how it’d work with bushytails or rabbits?
Great seeing you guys this weekend. My own dove shooting didn’t really start until evening, and then it was pretty slow going. I got a couple, but might have to try to even the score a little while I’m in NC this coming weekend.
Oh, and I like homemade red-eye gravy.
Croque madame with dove breast and quail egg, and veloute?
If you keep up like this, the only time I’ll ever be able to read your blog is right after eating an enormous lunch.
Aaron: I don’t bow hunt, sorry. Does not appeal to me much, although I might change my mind somewhere down the road.
As for where I hunt, it is a mix of public land, private land, and a few preserves – mostly for pheasants, which are scarce in natural habitat here in California.
Phillip: I guess it would work, although you would want to bone out the rabbit or squirrel to make it easier to eat. Good luck in North Carolina!
Michael: Thanks a heap – loved being there!
Adele: I could live with that.
Hey, are you talking about Mourning Doves or some other kind of dove? The reason I ask is I have a bunch of them all the time sitting on the wire right outside my window. They are slender and don’t look big enough to have any meat on them at all! You must be shooting another kind of dove for sure!
Lanesvillelady: Yes, Mum, I am talking about Mourning Doves. They average about 2 1/2 ounces plucked and gutted, which means you need about 3 per person for a main course.
The Eurasian collared doves, whose “song” sounds a lot like an emperor penguin, oddly enough, is twice the size.
Yeah, their song sounds like frankendove.
Wonderful post, I am craving dove and game birds in general now like crazy. I do have to tell you though that red eye gravy is never white, and is in fact wonderful stuff. I think you may be confusing red eye gravy with cream gravy (also called ‘sawmill or ‘country’) which is white and if done poorly pasty, horrible stuff. Red eye gravy is simply the pan drippings from country ham that has been fried mixed with black coffee then reduced and stirred. If you use really good country ham it really cannot be bad. Love your blog.
AJ: Now that you mention it, you are exactly right — I was indeed thinking of sawmill gravy, not red eye. Thanks for setting me straight — glad you like the blog!
Hi Hank – was so glad to stumble across your blog. I hunt and stalk as part of my job and we eat primarily wild meat.
I’m a cook, not a chef. My cooking will fill a hole but it’s pretty basic. I’m so excited to find some new recipes on your site especially as I will be faced with a glut of pheasant and partridge soon. There’s only so many curries I can eat!
And English food deserves its reputation. Not alot of flavours going on. I love your different regional influences. I’m looking forward to the next rainy day so I can go back and peruse your archives for inspiration!
All the best,
Jen
Huevos. Reminded me of visits to Chile, where they toss fried eggs on anything and call it “a la Pobre”
I’m glad y’all sorted out the red-eye/milk gravy issue. Red-eye rocks–ham, grits, and coffee in one dish is nothing short of genius. But because I hate to see any gravy categorically dismissed, I’ll put in the defense for the sawmill/sausage stuff, which was called milk gravy when I lived in Memphis. I had to be brought around because mostly what you get at bad breakfast joints is greasy milk thickened with raw flour. But like any gravy, the dirtier the better. Add a spoon or two of flour to scraped-up sausage bits in the pan and brown it like a roux. The liquid doesn’t have to be all milk–water or ham stock with a splash of milk or cream is fine too. It’s the perfect moisturizer for spicy sage-y homemade sausage and buttermilk biscuits. In fact, a pinch of fresh sage or thyme is a nice addition, as is maple syrup if you like that salty-sweet combo.
I’d love your blog even if it wasn’t in my neck of the woods. The honesty’s not just in the food but in the reflections and the writing style. It’s an inspiration for this fledgling blogger. Congrats on the book deal!