Plumping for Partridge

It never seems to be simple with British birds and our partridges are no exception.

It never seems to be simple with British birds and our partridges are no exception. Blame Charles II if you want someone to point the finger at for complicating partridge proceedings; along with presiding over the restoration of the monarchy, a hedonistic court and fathering at least a dozen illegitimate children, legend has it that it was the so-called ‘Merrie Monarch’ that first brought French Red-legged Partridges to these shores for shooting practice in the mid 1600s.

Presumably that’s because being bigger and redder than our native birds they provided an easier target and made him look like he was a much better shot than he actually was. 

Four hundred years later, and in a confusing colour-coded reverse scenario of what’s been happening with British squirrels, the red-legged partridge has overtaken our native English or Grey Partridge which, once so plentiful we simply called it partridge, now finds it numbers in serious decline. While the exact reasons for its fall are unknown, with the jury still out on whether it’s directly related to competition with the red-legged partridge, modern farming methods, which reduce its natural habitat, are thought to be partly to blame.

Both birds are in season from the beginning of September until the beginning February, although they’re harder to get hold of from December onwards.
Today the hardier French usurpers outnumber our native partridges by over two to one, which, since they don’t taste anyway near as delicious, is doubly sad. Make that triply sad as the better-tasting grey also costs more.

Although there are times when British food writers indulge in ridiculous ingredient-based jingoism by declaring British best when in reality it’s just, well, British, that’s not the case when it comes to partridge – and not just because like the Royal family red-legged partridge have been here so long that we’ve forgotten that they’re effectively foreign. Even the partridge in the pear tree in ‘The Twelve Days of Christmas’ was most probably French and red-legged.

But while it might be better at perching in pear trees, the larger red-legged French partridge has much lighter flesh and when tasted against grey partridge comes across as much more chicken-like. The grey is smaller, plumper, with a softer more pleasing texture, darker meat and a richer, gamier flavour. Like a grouse, roasted whole, it’s the perfect size for one. Assuming you can get hold of one. 

Also worth your attention:

The Game Cookbook

Simon Goodman's Open Pigeon Pie