The Roadkill Chef: Hunting for dead tasty meals
‘It’s a crisp January afternoon, and Fergus Drennan is picking mushrooms in a field near the Kentish seaside town of Whitstable. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots some black and white feathers poking up from a tuft of grass.
“A bird!” he shouts. “It’s not even been dead that long; you can tell from the rigor mortis. It’s so cute, isn’t it? Come on… come back to life… No. It’s definitely dead. The only question is… why?”
Fergus looks up. Above him run several power cables. The bird must have been electrocuted. This is excellent news: since our feathered friend didn’t have a nasty disease, Fergus says it’s safe to eat.’
