The regional table / South Dakota
Roast Pheasant with Cream Gravy
A wild pheasant carries almost no fat of its own, so every extra minute in the oven comes straight out of the breast.
The ring-necked pheasant is not an American bird, and the federal record of how it arrived is unusually clean. Farmers' Bulletin 390 of the Bureau of Biological Survey, "Pheasant Raising in the United States" by Henry Oldys, issued 18 April 1910, prints the shipment that finally took: "In 1880 Hon. O. N. Denny, then United States consul-general at Shanghai, shipped a lot of ringnecks to Oregon. All died on the way but 12 cocks and 3 hens, which were liberated 12 miles from Portland, near the mouth of the Willamette River." A second lot went out the next year to his brother's ranch in Linn County, the birds spread, Oregon opened a season in 1892, and Oldys records that the successful stocking of Oregon at once set every other state writing for birds. South Dakota bought, and the buying is in the county papers. The Vermillion Plain Talk of 18 January 1912 carried a state item out of Pierre reporting that the game department's two hundred Chinese pheasants, bought at a cost of $1,200, had been distributed the spring before; by 18 September 1913 the same paper, angry about prairie chickens shot out of season, was asking what was going to happen to the Chinese pheasants the state had purchased at a cost of $5,000 and turned loose to propagate.
They propagated. In May 1924 the Plain Talk reported a request to the state game warden for a short open season on cock pheasants in Butte County, where in places the birds had become a nuisance; in September 1929 it printed the commission's rulings for the fall, a continued closed season on the native prairie chicken and grouse and a considerably shorter season on pheasants, farmers having urged, in the face of a feared grasshopper plague, that bird life be conserved as far as possible. A South Dakota Guide, the Federal Writers' Project volume of 1938, says the state is "Noted for its pheasant hunting (two million birds have been shot in a single season)", and it puts the starting point not at any famous farm but at an aviary in Watertown: "The first ring-necked pheasants planted in South Dakota were distributed from this point. The birds were purchased from a breeder in New York and shipped to Watertown." Which leaves the cooking, and the cooking has its own literature. Bulletin 467 of the U.S. Department of Agriculture, "The Food Value and Uses of Poultry" by Helen W. Atwater of the Office of Home Economics, dated 29 December 1916, tables the edible portion of a pheasant at 69.9 percent water and 24.4 percent protein, worth 640 calories to the pound — the leanest bird on the page, against 730 for quail, 760 for young chicken and 1,475 for goose. Atwater also states the rule this recipe runs on: "if the bird is small, there is danger of the interior drying out with prolonged heat, and it should be cooked as quickly as possible. Hence the rule that the smaller the bird the hotter the oven and the shorter the period of cooking should be." Forty-four years later the South Dakota Cooperative Extension Service published fact sheet FS 39, "Cooking South Dakota Pheasant", the fruit of what it calls a project undertaken by several state agencies to standardize pheasant recipes; its roast pheasant covers the breast and all meaty portions with strips of salt pork or bacon, sets a 400°F oven for fifty to sixty minutes, and warns that "Pheasant need not be well done. Too long a cooking period should be avoided." The cream is from the same sheet, which pours cream over a roasting bird and stirs it into the pan juices, and from its "Pheasant in Cream", which ends: "Add more cream if the meat gets dry." The gravy quantities below were worked out for this page.
Why this version works
Hot oven, short roast. A 400°F oven looks aggressive for a two-pound bird and is exactly what the federal bulletin prescribes for one: small birds dry from the inside out, so the heat has to be high enough to brown before the centre overcooks. Fifty minutes at 400°F costs the breast less than ninety minutes at 325°F, whatever the slower oven promises.
Cream takes the heat that milk cannot. A pan gravy on pheasant is thin stuff — a lean bird gives little fat and less gelatine — so it needs body from somewhere. Heavy cream carries enough fat to hold together over direct heat while it reduces, where milk thins, curdles and tastes of nothing. The 1960 sheet allows sour or sweet cream; sour cream goes in off the heat.
The bacon is structural, not a garnish. FS 39 has you completely cover the breast and all meaty portions with strips of salt pork or bacon and tie them in place, and the reason is in the 1916 table: a pheasant has almost no fat of its own to render over itself. The bacon supplies the coat of hot fat that a chicken brings with it, which is the same thing Atwater describes basting doing — a coating that "aids in keeping in the remainder of the juices".
The legs go back in; the breast does not. Breast and leg are done at different moments on any bird and further apart on a bird that runs for a living. Pull the whole pheasant when the breast reads 160°F, cut the legs off while it rests and give them another ten minutes in the pan. That is the only way to serve both parts at their best, and it costs nothing but a carving board.