All of this discussion of eating the woodcock and its "trail" on toast reminds me of the French writer Guy de Maupassant's "Woodcock Tales" in which the participants in a hunt hosted by a wealthy aristocrat would gather in the evening over dinner that included a plate of woodcock heads, spinning one impaled on a cork, that would point to one of the guests who then had to tell a story to entertain the dinner party. The French like their woodcock...all of it.
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"Doubtless the good Lord could have made a better game bird than bobwhite, and better country to hunt him in...but equally doubtless, he never did." -- Guy de la Valdene (from A Handful of Feathers )
"'I promise you,' he said, 'on my word of honor, I won't die on the opening of the bird season.'" -- Robert Ruark (from The Old Man and the Boy)
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