REMINISCENT of the character Jesse in the '90s comedy The Fast Show, I can reveal that this winter I have mostly been eating pigeon. Well, not really: it was mainly on special occasions.

Since the start of the New Year, I have been gourmandising at a wonderful restaurant in Florence - whole roast pigeon with truffled mash, while visiting the recently installed chaplain of St Mark's Anglican Church.

Then, in Macerata, the historic hill-town in the Le Marche region of Italy - half a roast pigeon stuffed with local wild-boar meat, while speaking at Bishop Claudio Giuliodori's diocesan clergy conference.

And last, more humbly, at home - pigeon compote: two squab, pot-roasted with a delicious shallot, white wine, and mushroom sauce, after a discovery in the freezer of an impulse buy, and assisted by the trusty Larousse Gastronomique.

I was pleased to recall these culinary highlights during our keeping of Candlemas - "a pair of turtle-doves or two young pigeons, according to the law of the Lord". It is nice to think that the menu has some higher authority.
 

MOVING on to bigger birds, I tried something new at Christmas with the turkey. Usually slavishly obedient to Delia Smith ("descended from a long line of Norfolk turkey-cooks"), the first sign of innovation came with the gift of a turkey baster. Emboldened, I watched all the Christmas cookery specials that were available on Italian TV (Jamie, Gordon, and Lorraine), and decided to cook the bird without wrapping it in foil.

Let it immediately be said that no native Italian would ever roast an entire turkey - even the suggestion of it caused gales of laughter, as I witnessed when watching these shows with Italian friends. No, it would be carefully portioned, and hammered into as flat pieces as possible before being relatively quickly pan-fried or pot-roasted.

Anyway, back to me and my 2012 bird. I had to negotiate the extra hurdle of a new oven, although fortunately it is the most accurate I have ever used. Constant basting over the shorter cooking period followed, promising good results, at least from the golden brown of the skin, and that incomparable smell.

Then, with a supreme act of will for such an impatient person, I gave it a resting time as long as the cooking, and a rich Ramsay gravy made from the juices, the crushed wings, and the herbs that had filled the body cavity.

The verdict? It tasted good; but the amount of worry and labour involved is pushing me back in the direction of Delia. So much for adventure.
 

PASTA e ceci (pasta with chickpeas) is a winter staple of central Italy, and is absolutely delicious. You soak the dried chickpeas the night before in two teaspoons of bicarbonate of soda, and then cook them with plenty of water, a clove or two of garlic, some sprigs of fresh rosemary, and some salt and pepper, for about three and a half hours.

When the chickpeas are soft, you squash them a little with a potato masher, to release some of their starch and thicken the sauce. Then add whatever dried pasta you have, and small amounts of leftovers from other dishes in the store cupboard, and cook until al dente. Serve with a little extra-virgin olive oil swirled over the surface, and more salt and pepper to taste. It is far from a roast dinner, but it is truly satisfying.
 

I TRAVEL all over Italy by train; so I am extremely grateful for the snack dispensers on every platform of large stations. They stock a particularly delicious brand of pear-and-lemon juice that has given me a necessary sugar and fruit boost in the course of some of my most tiring journeys; and their tasty vacuum-packed sandwiches, at €1.80 for two, are a real bargain.

These machines have also performed another important function: keeping me true to my vow never to go into another McDonald's. This was made after I saw a documentary describing the production of chicken nuggets, in a way that was far from the law of the Lord - at least, by my lights.

Next time, to maintain levels of controversy, "Horse burgers, and why we should eat them."

The Ven. Jonathan Boardman is the Archdeacon of Italy and Malta, and Chaplain of All Saints', Rome.