The weather's been too nice for just about anything lately, other than follow the black dog on our daily walks. Last Sunday I decided to take the shotgun along, more out of boredom than the hope of actually getting within range of any wild, late-season pheasants. When a flock of at least 10 birds--all roosters--piled out of the field's corner, I emptied the gun without pulling a feather. Luckily, two latecomers let me reload before flushing at my feet. And for their tardiness, they went into a roasting pan with a bit stock and apple cider vinegar. After a few hours, the carcasses were picked clean for some barbecue sliders like this one, topped with a homemade jalapeno pickle.