Gulls

#1
I've always been a bit of a contradiction ... I'm perfectly happy to shoot and eat game I've walked up myself, but at the same time try to let nature take it's course where wildlife is concerned.

As a consequence I've ended up with 3 Herring Gull fledgelings wandering around my garden, sh1tting all over the terrace paving and ... everywhere. One even wandered into the house yesterday evening through the open patio door, and this morning [whilst topping up the bird water bowls] I was dive-bombed by one of the parents.

Does anyone have any Gull recipes? :x
 
#2
blue-sophist said:
I've always been a bit of a contradiction ... I'm perfectly happy to shoot and eat game I've walked up myself, but at the same time try to let nature take it's course where wildlife is concerned.

As a consequence I've ended up with 3 Herring Gull fledgelings wandering around my garden, sh1tting all over the terrace paving and ... everywhere. One even wandered into the house yesterday evening through the open patio door, and this morning [whilst topping up the bird water bowls] I was dive-bombed by one of the parents.

Does anyone have any Gull recipes? :x
Pluck and gut the bird,Marinade in molasses and salt,place a firebrick in the internal cavity,wrap in newspaper and bury in dunghill for 3 weeks,Heat oven to 250 oC,Place newspaper-wrapped bird in oven for 12 hours,Remove from oven,allow to rest,remove newspaper and bird.

Eat the brick :twisted:
 
#3
I didn't think there was going to be much uptake ... ;-)

I'll have to wait for the Pheasants at the top of the garden to start coming back near the house ...
 
C

cloudbuster

Guest
#5
Try hand-feeding them Sterident tablets. Or, for sheer entertainment, wrap a bit of bread around a fishing hook, then use your rod and reel to fly them about for a bit.

(The first got me a warning letter, the second a life-time ban from working near the Fish Dock in Hull)
 
#6
Cook them like Cockatoos, in an oven at 200 degrees celcius, place the bird and a small river pebble wait until the stone is soft then discard the cockatoo and eat the stone
 
#8
There's a nice high-energy .22 air rifle with telescopic sight calling me in the distance.
I'm sort of hoping that the bloody things will fly sometime this week.

Thanks for the recipe ... ;-)
 
#9
Grab a small empty soya sauce bottle, fill it full of herbs and a tablespoon of water and shove it into the bird's cavity. The bottle heats up and evaporates the water, which then helps the herb aroma to penetrate the meat.
 
#11
Shoot them and let them rot for weeks on a dungheap and then post them to Jamie Oliver with a note enclosed saying, sort that lot out - you fecking boring nonse, the fecking smug twat that he is!
 
#13
ObnoxiousJockGit said:
I don't think you are meant to eat the minging things; seemingly they are pretty toxic.
Thay're pretty aggressive, I know that. I've been outside, trying to hose off some of the sh1t, and ended up herding the 3 chicks out of my way. They set off distress calls and within a minute I'm being attacked by Mum and about 12 others are in a holding pattern, all shouting their heads off. Bloody things.

Beer Can Barbecue chicken, BTW ... similar sort of thing. About half full can of beer, extra holes in the top, add herbs and spices, stuff it up chicken's arrse and stand upright on the grill over a drip tray. Slow cook [indirect heat] for about 1 1/2 hours. Keeps it lovely and moist ... but mind the hot beer when you lift it off the grill. :wink:


@ Ugly ... no ferrets, mate, just a geriatric Burmese cat that sleeps H23 :wink:
 
#15
longlivethequeen said:
You can borrow my 12 bore at no cost
Would upset the neighbours, and anyway the fukcing things are protected.
The quiet thwack of .22 air wouldn't be noticed 8)

Why protected, I don't know. FFS, the skies are full of the scabby things round here. It's the same with pheasants, a non-indigenous species illegally introduced a couple of decades ago for "sporting slaughter" ... no natural predators, so the Island's over-run with them, but they're protected. I know what to do with pheasant, BTW, and as they use the bird-feeding station just outside the French doors to the garden, I could literally shoot them from my armchair! I'll just wait for some nice young ones ...
 
#18
blue-sophist said:
longlivethequeen said:
You can borrow my 12 bore at no cost
Would upset the neighbours, and anyway the fukcing things are protected.
The quiet thwack of .22 air wouldn't be noticed 8)

Why protected, I don't know. FFS, the skies are full of the scabby things round here. It's the same with pheasants, a non-indigenous species illegally introduced a couple of decades ago for "sporting slaughter" ... no natural predators, so the Island's over-run with them, but they're protected. I know what to do with pheasant, BTW, and as they use the bird-feeding station just outside the French doors to the garden, I could literally shoot them from my armchair! I'll just wait for some nice young ones ...
Why not complain to 'The Guv'! :wink:
 
#19
soprano54 said:
blue-sophist said:
longlivethequeen said:
You can borrow my 12 bore at no cost
Would upset the neighbours, and anyway the fukcing things are protected.
The quiet thwack of .22 air wouldn't be noticed 8)

Why protected, I don't know. FFS, the skies are full of the scabby things round here. It's the same with pheasants, a non-indigenous species illegally introduced a couple of decades ago for "sporting slaughter" ... no natural predators, so the Island's over-run with them, but they're protected. I know what to do with pheasant, BTW, and as they use the bird-feeding station just outside the French doors to the garden, I could literally shoot them from my armchair! I'll just wait for some nice young ones ...
Why not complain to 'The Guv'! :wink:
I'm actually thinking of getting our local hyper environmentalist over here to inspect the sh1t and ask him if he'd like to live surrounded by it! I might just do some photos, but I'll phone him first, perhaps.

Bergerac = chocolate fireguard, IMHO.
 
#20
The following is enough for a family of 18.

Ingredients:

White flour
Egg 1
Water ½ cup
Olive Oil 24 litres
Carrots 1
Tomatoes 10Kg ripe
5 Kg tinned
2 Kg paste
Garlic 15 bulbs or 2Kg
Onions 2
Seagull 2
Procuitto 2 slices (thin)
Peas ½ cup
Black Olives 1 cup (dried)
Porcini mushrooms ½ cup
Red wine 10 litres
Rind of orange 1
Basil (fresh) 1 bunch
Rosemary 1 bunch
Bay leaf 2

Method:

To make this, you will need to begin by donning the same black mourning dress that you'd worn everyday since your great grandfather died in 1956.

The first step is to collect your good walking stick and gather a large wicker basket of firewood from the nearest forest. Best if you mumble complaints as you go. Ignore anyone milling around wells since they are mostly likely gossiping about you.

Make a fire in the mud brick oven that you’ve constructed by hand in the backyard the night before. Be sure to start the fire only on the morning of the previous night where there was a full moon.

Once you've said 28 rounds of the Rosary the fire should be right to begin. If you've used hardwood, you may need some extra Hail Marys.

Take the olive oil, dab your finger in it and make the sign of the cross. Pour a glass and drink it to keep your skin looking healthy. Finally pour a litre or three into a large stock pot. Look into the pot and add another litre.

Take a large sharp knife and threaten to cut the throat of your grandson's new girlfriend, the one that isn't Catholic and has short hair. Cut the carrot into small cubes, then slice the onions. Vow to the saints that you'll make that little tart cry like the onions are making you cry. Peel and cut the garlic, giving thanks to god. Sautee the carrots, unions and garlic till brown and take off heat.

Place colander between knees and shell peas while watching World Championship Wrestling. Pour yourself a glass of the red wine for your blood. Not that shit that Louey made last year and not fit to use as vinegar, some of the good stuff. Drain the olives, slice the prosciutto, and prepare the mushrooms.

Take the seagulls and the wine and move the front porch where you can keep on eye on that bitch from Number 27. Pluck seagulls thoroughly and singe with blow torch or gas stove to remove any remaining feathers. Keep neck and head attached. Gut the gulls and cut into pieces. Keep the feet.

Take flour, eggs, water, and salt to the good house next door and make the pasta. Be sure to give your ungrateful grandson a crashing backhander to the head on your way. Threaten with a rolling pin if there is one handy. Leave pasta to dry out the back.

Cut a loaf of Vienna bread in two, place a whole mozzarella and some salami inside and eat with half litre of wine for lunch.

Hang crucifix above stove. Return the pot with the sauteed vegetables to heat, place in gull pieces and cook until brown. Add 6 litres of red wine, all of the tomatoes, the olives, mushroom, prosciutto, rind and herbs. Place a fresh log on the fire, say a prayer to St. Anthony and add more garlic and tomatoes.

Simmer on low heat for nine hours. In the meantime you may, while half pissed, lecture the dog on how easy you children have it compared to what it was like in village during the war. Gloss over the part about the lost infantryman and the barn.

Get the spaghetti from the good house next door. Curse the ungrateful greedy widow three doors down that refuses to sell her house to you. Cook and drain the pasta, and add to the pot. Stir through while secretly pretending to be a witch. Make a note for your next confessional.

Take the pot to the table. Make sure the table is in the garage, next to the industrial deep freezer and the plastic wine tank. If not, under a carport will do.

Serve in portions of no less than 5KG each.

Garnish the plates of the guests of honour by sticking in two legs, as if the gulls had buried themselves in the steaming pasta.

GOOGLE IS YOUR FRIEND..............
 

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