Food: Fowl play

Simon Hopkinson is wild about British game birds; He just happened to have these two rather high mallard ducks in the fridge and simply had not got around

A good amateur cook friend of mine once cooked a ragu al Bolognese without using beef. As I recall, it was not intentional, rather he wanted to cook the classic rendition but just happened to have these two rather high mallard ducks in the fridge and simply had not got around to roasting the critters.

Don is an American gentleman, and I think he has now taken up permanent residence in Spain. He once showed me how to cook tiny chorizo sausages over flaming vodka, using a special terracotta contraption, especially designed to do this curious, but quite delicious little bit of cookery alchemy. He also taught me how to roast whole shins of veal and owned the finest turbotiere I have ever set my envious peepers upon.

Essentially, a ragu can be made with any sort of meat; in fact, the more tasty the better. As far as I remember, Don added bacon and vegetables, wine, garlic, etc, etc. And it was really fantastic; memorably fine.

This is the time of year when you will find these marshy game birds easy to find and at reasonable prices. The removal of flesh from the carcass is not as arduous a task as you might think, and is well worth the effort.

I was enjoying lunch at the Walnut Tree Inn, near Abergavenny, the other day. Chef and owner Franco Taruschio (whose charming television series, made with his wife Ann, will be seen on our screens in the New Year) makes many a wonderful sugo (sauce) for pasta and, on this occasion, I was fortunate to taste a marvellous duck version that was spooned over some superlative gnocchi. Franco's was fashioned from domestic duck rather than the wilder fowl, and I only hope my rendition will live up to his. The recipe for the gnocchi itself is from the book to accompany the series (Franco and Friends, BBC Books, pounds 16.99), but the ragu was Don's idea - and is now mine to interpret.

The other wintry game bird is, of course, the ubiquitous pheasant. I am partial to this most over-bred of British game birds, I just ensure I buy it from a good dealer who will hang it well.

I recently made a delicious chicken risotto - not something you see very often on restaurant menus, even in these days of risotto revolution. The reason being that chicken sounds too boring as a risotti ingredient for some wittier cooks, who would prefer to cook it with broccoli and bubble gum.

This same risotto made with pheasant is a revelation. Once again, this involves taking the meat off the bone, but only the breasts and thighs. The drumsticks and the chopped-up carcass go into a pot with vegetables, herbs and wine, to make a fine stock with which to make the risotto. The addition of a few grams of dried porcini really brings the dish together.

Gnocchi with wild duck ragu, serves 4

I have added belly pork and a little bacon to the minced duck to give the sauce body and some fat content.

For the ragu or sugo:

1 mallard

175g/6oz belly pork, any small bones removed

3 rashers of streaky bacon

2 tbsp olive oil

1 tbsp tomato puree

50g/2oz butter

1 medium carrot, peeled and finely diced

3 sticks celery, peeled (can't stand celery strings) and finely diced

1 large onion, peeled and finely chopped

4 cloves of garlic, peeled and finely chopped

500ml/two-thirds of a bottle of red wine

1 tsp redcurrant jelly

1 x 400g/14oz tin of chopped tomatoes

2 bay leaves

3 small pieces (pith-less) orange rind

freshly grated nutmeg

12 tsp cinnamon

good pinch of dried chilli flakes

salt

250ml/9fl oz water

4 tbsp chopped parsley

For the gnocchi:

about 1.2kg/234 lb floury potatoes

1 beaten egg

250g/9oz plain flour

generous pinch nutmeg (as there is nutmeg in the ragu, you may wish to leave this out)

salt and freshly ground black pepper

freshly grated Parmesan

Remove all the meat from the mallard, skin and all, and feed through a mincer using the larger holed disk. Follow this with the belly pork and the bacon. Heat the olive oil in a large (lidded) stew pan and briskly fry the three minced meats until nicely browned. Stir in the tomato puree and continue cooking until the puree has taken on a deep rusty look. Tip into a bowl and wipe out the pan.

Pre-heat the oven to 275F/140C/gas mark 1. Add the butter to the pan, let it melt and froth, and then add the carrot, celery, onion and garlic. Allow to cook over moderate heat until the vegetables are softened and just beginning to colour. Tip back in the minced meats and pour in the wine. Bring up to a simmer and cook gently for 10 minutes. Now add the rest of the ingredients. Establish a simmer once more, put on a lid and place in the oven. Cook for one-and-a-half to two hours, removing the pot from time to time, to both stir the sauce and check that it is simmering very slowly. This is the secret to making a good ragu.

Meanwhile, start to make the gnocchi. Cook the potatoes in their skins, in boiling salted water (or steam them, if you wish). Drain and, as soon as they are cool enough to handle, peel them. Pass the warm potatoes (on no account allow them to become cold, as this will result in a gluey texture) through a potato ricer or mouli-legumes. You should have 1kg/ 214 lb of potato puree. Add the egg, flour, nutmeg (if using) and a seasoning of salt and pepper to the potato puree and work in well.

Take pieces of the potato mixture and roll into thumb-thick rolls, then cut into shorter rolls - 2-3cm/1-114 in long. Now, with the tip of the index finger, roll each piece over the inside curve of a long pronged fork. While pressing the piece of dough against the tines with your finger, flip it away towards the handle of the fork, and then let it drop onto a lightly floured tray. This "rolling" action keeps the gnocchi light and gives it the characteristic "ribbed" edge and hollow inside.

Cook the gnocchi in an abundance of boiling salted water. As soon as the gnocchi rise to the surface, remove them with a perforated spoon and serve onto hot plates. Spoon over some of the ragu on to each serving and dust with Parmesan, sending more to the table for those who want extra.

Note: (1) You will probably find that there is more ragu than you need, but don't worry, as it freezes well in sealed plastic bags; you will then have some ready for a quick late supper for another day. Also, it is much better to make a large batch of any sort of ragu, than it is to make a meagre amount. (2) If you think there is too much fat swimming about in the finished ragu, remove the excess with sheets of kitchen paper laid upon the surface.

Pheasant risotto, serves 4, generously

1 plump hen pheasant

For the pheasant broth:

4 thick rashers streaky bacon or pancetta, chopped

half a bottle white wine

2 sticks celery, chopped

1 small carrot, peeled and chopped

1 small onion, peeled and chopped

2 sprigs thyme

1 bay leaf

2 cloves garlic, bruised

3 tomatoes, chopped

1 chicken stock cube

1.1 litres/2 pints cold water

For the risotto:

15g/12oz dried porcini, put to soak in 1 ladleful of the hot stock for 10 minutes

50g/2oz butter

1 large onion, peeled and finely chopped

3 sticks celery, peeled and finely diced

350g/12oz rice for risotto (Carnaroli, Vialone Nano or Arborio)

the pheasant broth

2 tbsp dry vermouth

salt and pepper

3 tbsp chopped flat-leafed parsley

a little extra butter

freshly grated Parmesan

Remove the legs from the pheasant and then cut off the breasts from against the rib cage, leaving the little wing bone attached to the carcass. Cut the drumsticks from the thighs (through the small ball and socket joint) and roughly chop with a heavy knife. Do the same to the carcass and put both into a large pot. Remove the fatty skin from the thighs and also the central bone, discard the former and put the thigh bones into the pot. Strain the soaked porcini through a sieve held over the pot of bones, roughly chop the porcini and put on one side. Add all the other ingredients for the broth to the pot and put on to heat. Slowly bring up to a simmer, lifting off the scum that forms with a large spoon, just prior to the water beginning to roll. Allow to simmer very, very gently for one-and-a-half hours. Strain through a fine sieve and keep hot, in a clean pan, over a meagre flame. Note: there should be approx 1.1 litres/2 pints of stock. If not, simply add the water.

Cut the thighs and the breasts of the pheasant into small pieces (approx 1cm/half an inch) and put on to a plate. In a heavy-based pot, melt the butter and fry the onion, porcini and celery until the onions and celery are pale golden. Now tip in the pheasant meat and stir around gently until the morsels stiffen with the heat. Add the rice and stir around over a meagre flame until well coated with the butter - add a little more butter here if you wish. Now, keeping the pot on a moderate heat, start to add the hot stock, a ladleful at a time allowing each addition to be fully absorbed before introducing the next, and keep stirring with a wooden spoon.

Check the texture of the rice as you go along, by eating a bit; it should be cooked through yet firm, but not too "chalky" in the middle - and you may not need all the stock. The resultant texture should be sloppy but not "soupy". My ideal description of a perfect risotto is that when it is spooned on to the plate, it should keep moving for a few seconds, like lava flow.

When you think the rice is about ready, add the vermouth and stir in. Check for seasoning before adding salt, but grind in plenty of pepper. Stir in the parsley, extra butter - a few slices -and take the pot from the heat. Mix in a tablespoon or so of the Parmesan and cover for 2-3 minutes. Serve on to hot plates, handing extra Parmesan at table.