I would have never admitted this but my results were so outstanding I just had to be open and confess this extraordinary find. Remember that dead buzzard from yesterday’s blog posting? I didn’t just stop to take its photo, that bird came home with me. After six hours marinading away the funny smell, I coated up the parts and got to deep-frying it. I swear this was going to go to the grave with me but spank me with a drum stick, this old buzzard cooked up and tasted at least as good as chicken. And, as it turns out, the buzzard has a pronounced gizzard which cooked up to make an exquisite gravy base that complimented the mashed red potatoes. I kept a huge glass of Kool-Aid at the ready to wash down any foul tastes in case I found myself gagging. Open wide, here it comes and so it was that I dipped into the golden brown crunchy fried buzzard wing thinking there wasn’t much meat there should it prove too much for my pallet. Holy mackerel, that’s some damned yummy bird. Pardon me if any readers should find this slightly gross, but I learned long ago from a fan boat driver in Florida that there are many ways to enjoy what nature has on the menu.