Francois Mitterand and the small yellow bird

So, I was at work today doing the tedious chore of moving network switches around in a few racks to make room for some other switches for a VoIP system that we are going to install soon. That has absolutely nothing to do with this post however. I was listening to public radio and heard about something that struck my...uh... interest. I'm a foodie. Period. I love to eat, to cook, to drink good wine, to go to fantastic high end restaurants and to find the perfect barbeque whether its in some backcountry roadside family joint or coming out of the smoker in my back yard. Well I used to be anti-french food just because I found it somewhat boring. This was a long time ago and I'm fully cured of that lack of insight. On NPR I heard something that was out of control. Francois Mitterand's last meal. I guess the story goes that Mitterand was dying of cancer and knew that the end was rapidly approaching. Asked what he wanted for his last meal he ordered oysters, fois gras, capons and Ortolan. Ortolan? What the hell is Ortolan? Well it is so ultimately French you can almost see it smoking a cigarette, sitting on the Champs-Elysses, conversing on the art of surrendering....um nevermind....anyway.. Ortolan (Emberiza hortulana) is a small yellow songbird that is about the size of your thumb that historically was prevalent in the agricultural areas of Europe. It's population has dropped significantly since the 1950s. It is illegal now to eat these birds but its is also considered one of the highest of delicacies in France. Here is the recipe for preparing Ortolan.



"The birds must be taken alive; once captured they are either blinded or kept in a lightless box for a month to gorge on millet, grapes, and figs, a technique apparently taken from the decadent cooks of Imperial Rome who called the birds beccafico, or "fig-pecker". When they've reached four times their normal size, they're drowned in a snifter of Armagnac.

Cooking l'ortolan is simplicity itself. Simply pop them in a high oven for six to eight minutes and serve. The secret is entirely in the eating. First you cover your head with a traditional embroidered cloth. Then place the entire four-ounce bird into your mouth. Only its head should dangle out from between your lips. Bite off the head and discard. L'ortolan should be served immediately; it is meant to be so hot that you must rest it on your tongue while inhaling rapidly through your mouth. This cools the bird, but its real purpose is to force you to allow its ambrosial fat to cascade freely down your throat.

When cool, begin to chew. It should take about 15 minutes to work your way through the breast and wings, the delicately crackling bones, and on to the inner organs. Devotees claim they can taste the bird's entire life as they chew in the darkness: the wheat of Morocco, the salt air of the Mediterranean, the lavender of Provence. The pea-sized lungs and heart, saturated with Armagnac from its drowning, are said to burst in a liqueur-scented flower on the diner's tongue. Enjoy with a good Bordeaux."

damn