Game Bird Recipes

George’s Grouse Poutine

By
A plate of grouse and chips served poutine-style with rich gravy, golden fried grouse breasts, crispy chips, melted cheese curds and chives

This recipe is first and foremost a delicious plate of food, whilst also, at the same time, a bit of a laugh. And really, we can’t ask for more than that from our food.

We can become overly wedded to tradition when it comes to game, which is why, more often than not, you’ll see grouse roasted and served with all the trimmings: bread sauce, liver parfait, dripping toast, fruit jelly and game chips. Don’t get me wrong, that dish, when cooked well, is something truly special and one of my all-time favourite things to eat. However, it’s good to have a few different options in your repertoire for game birds, and especially grouse, which can seem a little daunting.

So, we landed on this recipe, a play on grouse and chips. In the traditional version it’s game chips; here, it’s a more classic take on the chip. For those unfamiliar with poutine, it is a Canadian dish of chips, gravy and cheese curds and, as you can imagine, it’s filthy and delicious. In our version, the grouse legs are braised and pulled through the gravy, whilst the breasts are dredged in seasoned flour and deep-fried.

Serves: 4

Prep time: 1 hour 10 minutes

Cook time: 2 hours 30 minutes

Ingredients

Gravy

Grouse Breasts

Assembling

Method

Butchering and Preparing the Grouse

  1. Using a small sharp knife, remove the legs from the grouse. Make an incision between the body and the leg through the skin, then pull the leg back to expose the joint. Cut through the joint to remove the leg. Repeat with the remaining legs.
  2. Locate the ridge that runs down the centre of the breasts. Run your knife down one side, keeping as close to the bone as possible. Use the tip of the knife to carefully release the breast, working along the bone until it is attached only at the wing joint. Cut through the joint to free the breast. Repeat with the remaining breast.
  3. Chop the carcass into pieces with a cleaver or large knife. Season the legs with salt.
  4. Set a medium pan over a medium heat and add a splash of oil. Once hot, add the legs and carcass and brown all over. Remove the grouse pieces and add the onions, carrots, bay leaf and spices. Season with salt, lower the heat slightly and cook for 12–15 minutes, stirring regularly.
  5. Return the grouse legs and carcass to the pan. Add the wine and cook for 2–3 minutes before adding the stock. Bring to a boil, then reduce to a gentle simmer. Cook for 1–1½ hours.
  6. Remove from the heat and leave to sit for 10 minutes. Pass through a fine sieve. Pick the meat carefully from the legs, discarding the tendons. Flake the meat back into the liquid and return to a gentle simmer.
  7. Mix the butter and flour together in a bowl to form a paste. Add a couple of tablespoons of the hot liquid to loosen it, then stir this paste into the gravy to thicken.
  8. Allow the gravy to reduce further if needed. It should be thick enough to coat the chips. Taste and adjust the seasoning as necessary.

Chips

  1. Cut the potatoes into medium-thick chips and wash under hot tap water to remove some of the starch.
  2. Place the chips in a large pan of cold water, season with salt, and set over a high heat. Bring to the boil and cook for 12 minutes.
  3. Drain through a colander and leave to cool completely.

Grouse Breasts

  1. Cut away the remaining part of the wing joint and peel off the skin, discarding it.
  2. Pull away the inner fillet, then cut the breast into three pieces.
  3. Place the grouse breasts and inner fillets in a bowl with a good pinch of salt, the buttermilk, and a few grinds of black pepper. Mix well and leave to sit for at least 30 minutes (longer if possible).
  4. In a separate bowl, combine the flour, paprika, onion powder, and garlic powder. Remove the grouse pieces from the buttermilk and coat thoroughly in the flour mixture. Leave to sit for 15 minutes.

To Assemble

  1. Fill a large pan with vegetable oil to a depth of about 10cm and set over a high heat until the oil reaches 180°C.
  2. Carefully add the chips to the hot oil, taking care not to overcrowd the pan. This may need to be done in batches. Cook for 7–8 minutes, or until golden and crisp. Remove from the oil, drain on kitchen paper, and season well with salt.
  3. Once all the chips are cooked, add the pieces of grouse breast to the hot oil and fry for 5 minutes. Remove and drain on kitchen paper.
  4. Tip the chips onto a large plate and scatter over the cheese curds, mixing them through the chips. Pour over the gravy, add the fried grouse breast, and finish with a good sprinkle of chives.

Order meat online

For 15 years, George worked in some of London’s most loved restaurants, including Padella and Primeur, and spent five years as Head Chef at the Garden Museum Café. He earned praise for his simple, thoughtful cooking, with dishes rooted in the classics and always respectful of the ingredients.

In 2021, George realised a long-held ambition with the release of his first cookbook, A Year in the Kitchen. It celebrates the annual cookery cycle, guiding readers through the British seasons, showcasing native produce and encouraging creativity year-round.

In 2022, George left London and returned to his native Yorkshire. His passion for seasonal cooking and respect for quality British ingredients have remained central to his work. Like his food, George is led by the seasons, open to new opportunities and always following his heart.

Instagram

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  • Do you love bacon? Here’s our in house science and history teacher, @grylos, talking osmosis, salt, and the slow work of dry curing bacon.
  • Burns Night, 25 January. Two pastry wrapped tributes to Robert Burns. Made with chef Josh Whitehead of @finer_pleasures. A haggis sausage roll with coarse cut native breed pork. A hot water crust pie of mutton and lamb haggis, oats, onions and spice. Food for a cold night.
@swaledalebutchers
@swaledalebutchers
•
Follow
We have all seen the videos. A chicken arrives. Five neat strokes of a knife. It falls apart as if by magic. That comes from thirty years at the block. Most of us do not have that. So here is a slightly more Radio 4 approach. A calm, sensible way to take a good chicken and break it down at home. Nothing flashy. Just understanding the joints, working with the bone, and giving each part the respect it deserves. When you do that, you open up a week (almost) of meals. Breasts cooked one way. Legs another. A carcass that becomes stock rather than waste. More on that to follow. The only things you truly need are a great chicken and a proper knife. Ours is a beautiful honsuki knife kindly supplied by @kitchenprovisions and it does the job expertly. Sharp. Balanced. Delightful. Watch along as @grylos talks it through.
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Mutton has earned itself an unfair reputation. For centuries it was simply the meat we ate. Lamb is, in many ways, the modern preference, made possible by refrigeration and global trade. Before that shift, it would have made little sense to slaughter an animal before it had lived fully and bred. Sheep were kept for wool and continuity, and when their working life was complete, they became mutton. It was part of a cycle. Practical and sustaining. What changed was not the meat, but our habits. Yet not all mutton is equal. Age alone does not create depth. Mutton reflects the life it has lived. When sheep are kept longer and allowed to graze widely on varied forage, moorland grasses and herbal leys, time and terrain build complexity into the muscle and fat. That is the mutton we favour and source. Darker, firmer and deeper in flavour, shaped by prolonged grazing on moorland such as this, just outside Skipton. There was once a rhythm between wool on our backs and mutton on our tables. Perhaps that rhythm still makes sense.
Mutton has earned itself an unfair reputation. For centuries it was simply the meat we ate. Lamb is, in many ways, the modern preference, made possible by refrigeration and global trade. Before that shift, it would have made little sense to slaughter an animal before it had lived fully and bred. Sheep were kept for wool and continuity, and when their working life was complete, they became mutton. It was part of a cycle. Practical and sustaining. What changed was not the meat, but our habits. Yet not all mutton is equal. Age alone does not create depth. Mutton reflects the life it has lived. When sheep are kept longer and allowed to graze widely on varied forage, moorland grasses and herbal leys, time and terrain build complexity into the muscle and fat. That is the mutton we favour and source. Darker, firmer and deeper in flavour, shaped by prolonged grazing on moorland such as this, just outside Skipton. There was once a rhythm between wool on our backs and mutton on our tables. Perhaps that rhythm still makes sense.
Mutton has earned itself an unfair reputation. For centuries it was simply the meat we ate. Lamb is, in many ways, the modern preference, made possible by refrigeration and global trade. Before that shift, it would have made little sense to slaughter an animal before it had lived fully and bred. Sheep were kept for wool and continuity, and when their working life was complete, they became mutton. It was part of a cycle. Practical and sustaining. What changed was not the meat, but our habits. Yet not all mutton is equal. Age alone does not create depth. Mutton reflects the life it has lived. When sheep are kept longer and allowed to graze widely on varied forage, moorland grasses and herbal leys, time and terrain build complexity into the muscle and fat. That is the mutton we favour and source. Darker, firmer and deeper in flavour, shaped by prolonged grazing on moorland such as this, just outside Skipton. There was once a rhythm between wool on our backs and mutton on our tables. Perhaps that rhythm still makes sense.
@swaledalebutchers
@swaledalebutchers
•
Follow
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@swaledalebutchers
@swaledalebutchers
•
Follow
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@swaledalebutchers
@swaledalebutchers
•
Follow
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Ask yourself this. When did you last have a really good pork chop? This is why we keep coming back to it. Native, rare breed pork. Dry aged on the bone. Proper depth of flavour. Nothing like the pale, wet stuff you see elsewhere. These are our Pork Chops with Rosemary and Anchovy Butter. Two thick, rindless chops. Two discs of handmade compound butter. Anchovy, rosemary, lemon zest, a little shallot. Old friends. It works.
@swaledalebutchers
@swaledalebutchers
•
Follow
Ask yourself this. When did you last have a really good pork chop? This is why we keep coming back to it. Native, rare breed pork. Dry aged on the bone. Proper depth of flavour. Nothing like the pale, wet stuff you see elsewhere. These are our Pork Chops with Rosemary and Anchovy Butter. Two thick, rindless chops. Two discs of handmade compound butter. Anchovy, rosemary, lemon zest, a little shallot. Old friends. It works.
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View on Instagram |
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@swaledalebutchers
@swaledalebutchers
•
Follow
Fancy a bit of a butcher’s tip? Or a hack, if you will. Well look no further. Here, @grylos, gets creative with a joint of boned and rolled beef rump, creating three, totally different meals, from the one piece of meat. A great example of some leftfield thinking and the perfect way to add a little variety into your weekly meal planning. Along the spectrum from raw to medium, your week could go a little something like this; tartare and toast lightly rubbed with garlic for lunch on Wednesday; steak night on Friday night, with chips, good red wine and a bowl of bearnaise; a roast dinner on Sunday. Bob’s your uncle, Fanny’s your aunt and a carnivorous and hugely satisfying week of eating is complete. All that from a single rolled rump of beef! A life hack if I ever saw one… Did you know that our rumps won 3 stars at the Great Taste Awards? 3-star rump, you can’t argue with that!
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@swaledalebutchers
@swaledalebutchers
•
Follow
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Burns Night, 25 January. Two pastry wrapped tributes to Robert Burns. Made with chef Josh Whitehead of @finer_pleasures. A haggis sausage roll with coarse cut native breed pork. A hot water crust pie of mutton and lamb haggis, oats, onions and spice. Food for a cold night.
Burns Night, 25 January. Two pastry wrapped tributes to Robert Burns. Made with chef Josh Whitehead of @finer_pleasures. A haggis sausage roll with coarse cut native breed pork. A hot water crust pie of mutton and lamb haggis, oats, onions and spice. Food for a cold night.
Burns Night, 25 January. Two pastry wrapped tributes to Robert Burns. Made with chef Josh Whitehead of @finer_pleasures. A haggis sausage roll with coarse cut native breed pork. A hot water crust pie of mutton and lamb haggis, oats, onions and spice. Food for a cold night.
Burns Night, 25 January. Two pastry wrapped tributes to Robert Burns. Made with chef Josh Whitehead of @finer_pleasures. A haggis sausage roll with coarse cut native breed pork. A hot water crust pie of mutton and lamb haggis, oats, onions and spice. Food for a cold night.
Burns Night, 25 January. Two pastry wrapped tributes to Robert Burns. Made with chef Josh Whitehead of @finer_pleasures. A haggis sausage roll with coarse cut native breed pork. A hot water crust pie of mutton and lamb haggis, oats, onions and spice. Food for a cold night.
Burns Night, 25 January. Two pastry wrapped tributes to Robert Burns. Made with chef Josh Whitehead of @finer_pleasures. A haggis sausage roll with coarse cut native breed pork. A hot water crust pie of mutton and lamb haggis, oats, onions and spice. Food for a cold night.
@swaledalebutchers
@swaledalebutchers
•
Follow
Burns Night, 25 January. Two pastry wrapped tributes to Robert Burns. Made with chef Josh Whitehead of @finer_pleasures. A haggis sausage roll with coarse cut native breed pork. A hot water crust pie of mutton and lamb haggis, oats, onions and spice. Food for a cold night.
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