I can tell you, Diva - I grew up eating them and love, love, love pheasant. It doesn’t taste anything like chicken, at least I never thought so. It has a richer taste that, although perhaps just slightly similar, is still 100% unique. Ma had so many ways to fix it. In the fall Dad guided pheasant hunters and we had a lot of pheasant in the freezer, between what they gave him and what we hunted ourselves! City guys often came out to hunt, but some didn’t want to be bothered with shipping or taking the meat home, so they gave it to Dad. With 7 of us to feed, he took it and gladly. I used to love it when Ma would fry it up until it was golden brown on all sides. She’d take it out, set it aside to drain, and fry up the next batches. Then she’d add a couple of cans of what she called “instant supper” and a can of milk to each of the cast iron skillets she’d used, stirred that in to get up the crispy browned bits from the frying, add the pheasant back in, and put it them the oven for an hour or so while she made mashed taters and my sisters and I snapped beans or husked corn to cook up. She also used to poach it in red wine and have that with rice, but I detest rice in any form so she’d sometimes let me bake up a potato or scrounge up something else. The occasional missed BBs always gave pheasant a nice crunch! 
Man, I’d dust off my trusty shotgun if I hadn’t given it to my niece when she passed her Hunter’s Safety course a couple of years ago. The pheasant here are a little bigger because many of them are raised and released by a Game and Fish, but those Dad and the rest of our family hunted in Eastern South Dakota way back then were pure wild birds.

Man, I’d dust off my trusty shotgun if I hadn’t given it to my niece when she passed her Hunter’s Safety course a couple of years ago. The pheasant here are a little bigger because many of them are raised and released by a Game and Fish, but those Dad and the rest of our family hunted in Eastern South Dakota way back then were pure wild birds.