Goose

Some years ago, I was to cook a goose for Christmas dinner at my parents’ home in Derbyshire, and asked them to order a goose from their butcher. I marinated it, stuffed it and roasted it carefully to a burnished golden brown. Marvellous trimmings were prepared, and it made its crisp, golden appearance on the table. My father took up the knives and his carving position, while the rest of us looked on with expectation. But the bird was so tough that it was impossible even to pierce its skin. It turned out to have been an old farmyard goose, probably someone’s ‘guard dog’, for they are an excellent deterrent to intruders. If you intend to cook goose, therefore, always look for one born within the year.