Salmis de Faisan

Salmis de Faisan (pheasant finished in a sauce drawn from its own carcass) teaches the most exact lesson in game cookery: the first roasting must stop early. Cook the bird through before making the sauce and the final warming becomes reheating, which is how pheasant turns dry and salmis earned an undeserved reputation as a treatment for leftovers. Roast deliberately underdone, then let the meat finish once in its own concentrated sauce.

The grand kitchen assumed a saucier at the next burner, a game stockpot never off the fire, and a salamander waiting to gratinate elaborate forcemeat-coated croûtons. This preparation itself rejects the bread cushion and its decoration. They were service scaffolding, not the dish. At home, you need one large pheasant for four diners, a small quantity of finished game Espagnole and meat glaze, one saucepan, and a fine sieve. One cook, one stove, one evening.

When it is right, the sauce is wine-dark and glossy, clinging closely rather than flooding the platter, with black truffle and six buttered mushroom caps tucked among the eight pieces. Move quickly once the bird leaves the oven, but don't let the pace frighten you. The one step that matters most is pulling the pheasant while it is still moderately underdone; everything afterward exists to finish it without stealing its moisture.