Girl Hunter
Page 21
I believe the answer is that we joined the Great Forage—we participated in the delicate dance between predator and prey, which forced us to develop complex thinking, to premeditate, to strategize, and to know to share our prey with others for social and personal advantage. There have been scientific tomes written that support all of this. But I am not an archaeologist or sociologist. Instead I am a girl who has been sharpening her human instincts and discovered in the process how satisfying, how natural, and how inspiring it is to play an active role in my omnivorous life. For me, it is tapping into that natural human instinct for which we—as animals, too—are genetically hardwired.
There is an intense debate as to when exactly we became true omnivores, but it makes sense that we began by scavenging dead animals. It allowed us to take in more calories compared to the number of calories we expended to find the food. Our climbing ability grew as a way to steal kills stashed in trees by leopards, as did our ability to run fast. We had to know when our prey—and our competitors—slept, grazed, watered, changed locations, mated, and bore young. It all required complex thinking, observation, and growing intelligence as we learned to imitate and outwit the other lethal species. And ultimately, we had to be able to fight these other meat eaters. This required us to develop tools and weapons and plans to defend ourselves. Today still, the very act of being alive by definition requires us to also know how to survive or perish. But hunting and gathering taught us more than survival—it taught us that by bringing food back to the tribe, by feeding the community and the women especially who were then more fertile, our position in the world was elevated. Hunting and gathering not only taught us how to stay alive, it was the act that made us more human.
Where I am writing now, on a screened-in porch beside the crescent-shaped lake in the place they call the Village, I have never felt more human. It is dusk. The smell of barbecue is in the air, intermingled with the inimitable smell of old cigars and new whiskey. The weather is shifting—I hear the drips of water, the tittering of wrens; I see the melting, the fiddleheads beginning to peer above the brown leaves, their fronds tucked in like great green question marks over what is to come.
I am entirely different than the girl who came here four years ago to learn how to hunt a turkey. There are the obvious differences, such as the fact that I can shoot a deer through the heart without batting an eye, then promptly take out the innards on the forest floor with only a pocketknife and my bare hands to help me. I can skin it with the pocketknife, too, then run the knife along the contours of the muscle until it is broken down into manageable parts. Then, if I want to, I can portion the meat into those elegant pieces we see neatly wrapped up in plastic in the grocery store meat section, with no signs that it was ever a living thing. Except that for me, that will never be the case again. I will always know. I will have looked my food in the eye and made a choice; I will have felt the warm innards in my hands as I pulled them out and laid them on the forest floor for the coyotes and the mountain lions to eat.
It was a struggle to get here, mostly a mental struggle. It required a slap on the ass and a horseback-riding escapade with a poacher. It required humility, frustration, hundreds of skeptical looks, and waking up in the dark for most of the fall and winter months—all in the name of sausage, venison meat loaf, and whiskey-glazed turkey breast. It required run-ins with airport security that wanted to know why there were frozen animal parts in my suitcase, and with border patrol dogs sniffing my car wildly where the edges of Texas meet Mexico.
It was all amazing. Even the so-called bloody bits.
It was more amazing than the irreplaceable meals, the incomparable vistas, the fine cigars and scotch, the almond cakes and gourmet chocolates, because now I am more awake than I ever was when working in fast-paced four-star kitchens, or on a high-pitched trading floor. It is as if I have realized again those first pleasures I knew sitting beside my creek in the Hudson Valley, watching the orange fishing bobbin float by under the willow tree. I am a more thoughtful eater, a more thoughtful chef, and a more awake human being. I am a fuller woman and in a way, I am much more like Diana than I ever was . . . there are even days, stepping out into the morning, when I think perhaps that I could rule the forest and the moon.
Of course, many wild, edible foods are missing from this book. This was my journey, shared for the sole purpose of inspiring you to have your own. May you find a place where you can hear the foghorn on the river at night, or where you can hear the woods wake up at dawn. Most of all, may you find a place where you can discover what it is to feel the omnivore genes in you stir with the distinct vibration that makes us really human. Whatever your journey, wherever you find it, may it be a wild one.
Acknowledgments
There are days as a writer when time passes differently in the blur of travel and note-taking. When my mind gets entangled with the work there are people who have to put up with it all, who intervene on my behalf and recognize when my “fearlessness” has gone a bit too far. Without them this book would not exist. Without their support, I would probably be lost in the desert of Wyoming. Being “fearless” often requires a lot of help.
To T. Kristian Russell there aren’t enough words to thank you for guiding me every millimeter of the way. You were there when I blurted out this little idea and you made it happen as much as I did. Thank you to my brother, Gordon, for giving me editorial, creative, and life perspective in equal doses. Thank you to Roger Pellegrini for teaching me to fish and love the outdoors, and for suggesting years ago that I join the ranks of women hunters; and Maureen Pellegrini for instilling in me a respect for all living things.
To my editor, Renée Sedliar, thank you for “getting” Girl Hunter from the beginning, and for your intuition and depth. You are by far my favorite vegetarian! Thank you to the rest of the team at Da Capo for being so flexible and receptive to my vision, and to Brettne Bloom, my agent, for bringing us together.
Thank you, Janie Fransson, for giving me a much-needed fresh perspective and invaluable advice. You were that burst of energy I needed to push me over the finish line; and Abigail Cleaves for being a continual connector and cheerleader.
I also had research assistants who helped me in various stages along the way, from recipe testing to sanity checking, Julia Becker, Athena Gee, Rachel Wegman, and Abigail Hansen were immensely helpful.
Thank you to the late Thomas Russell for the praise and support as I read you rough drafts up until the very end, and to Jimmy and Deborah Russell, Sarah Perkins, and Heather Herrington for continuing it always.
For the friendship and the wild game to finish my recipes, thank you to: Paul and Debbie Michael, Freddie Black, Mike Pappas, Worth Williams, Faith McCormick, Solonje Burnett, Kelsey Contreras, Spencer Kehe, Tamara Mendelsohn, and Emily Goldman. For being my masterful recipe-testing assistant: Courtney McLeod.
And of course, thank you to those in this book, for their true generosity, the valuable life lessons, and the wild ride.
Gravy
Stocks, Marinades, Brines, Rubs & Sauces
Stocks
Stocks are a great base for many wild game dishes. They also lend great flavor when used in the place of water for rice and grains. It is best not to season stock until you are ready to use it in a dish, as each dish will have different needs. It is also useful to freeze stock in small portions in resealable bags or in ice cube trays; this way you can use small amounts as needed and don’t have to wait for a large batch to defrost. Stock is also very forgiving and provides you with a chance to flavor with whatever you have on hand. This means that if you have chicken bones instead of pheasant bones, beef bones instead of venison bones, or pork bones instead of feral hog bones, they will all work within these recipes. Even a simple vegetable stock will work. The whole purpose of stock is not to limit you, but to give you the opportunity to make use of the scraps you have on hand. Because of this, your yields will also vary based on your ingredients and heat level.
Game Bird Stock
15 dove carcasses, or equivalent in other game bird carcasses
2 tablespoons grape seed oil
1 cup white wine
2 cups chopped celery, with leaves
1 cup peeled and chopped carrots
1 cup chopped onion
1 cup washed and chopped leeks
1. Over high heat, brown the carcasses in the oil in a large pot. Add the vegetables and brown. Pour off any grease, deglaze the caramelized brown bits at the bottom of the pot with the white wine, then cover the carcasses and vegetables with water.
2. Bring to a boil and lower the heat to a simmer. Skim off any foam that forms on the surface.
3. Simmer for 4 hours, or until the liquid is full flavored. Strain and store.
Duck Stock
Makes about 8 cups
2 duck carcasses, plus any necks
4 tablespoons grape seed oil
5 shallots, roughly chopped
4 cloves garlic, roughly chopped
2 celery stalks, chopped
2 pieces orange zest
2 pieces lemon zest
2 pieces grapefruit zest
1 bay leaf
4 sprigs fresh thyme
5 sprigs fresh parsley
1/2 teaspoon coarsely crushed star anise
1/2 teaspoon coarsely crushed fennel seeds
1/2 teaspoon coarsely crushed coriander seeds
1/2 teaspoon coarsely crushed cloves
1/2 teaspoon coarsely crushed black peppercorns
1. Preheat the oven to 375°F. Place the duck carcasses on a sheet tray, drizzle with 2 tablespoons of the oil, and roast for 30 minutes, or until golden brown.
2. Heat the remaining 2 tablespoons of oil in a stockpot, add the shallots, garlic, and celery, and sweat them.
3. Add the duck carcasses, about 16 cups of water, and the herbs and citrus zests.
4. Cover and simmer gently for 3 to 5 hours, until full flavored. Skim off any foam or fat that forms on the surface.
5. Strain and reduce the stock further until the flavor is more potent.
Hog Stock
Makes about 8 cups
10 pounds hog bones
4 tablespoons grape seed oil
1/4 cup tomato paste
3 carrots, peeled and chopped
3 celery stalks, peeled and chopped
3 onions, peeled and chopped
1. Preheat the oven to 375°F. Place the hog bones on a sheet tray, drizzle with all of the oil, and roast for 30 minutes, or until golden brown.
2. Remove the bones from the sheet tray and place in a large stockpot.
3. Cover with water and bring to a boil.
4. Add the tomato paste, carrots, celery, and onions. Simmer for 6 to 8 hours, until full flavored. Skim off any foam or fat that forms on the surface.
5. Strain and reduce by half.
Antlered Game Stock
Makes about 8 cups
10 pounds venison bones, or equivalent in other antlered game
6 tablespoons grape seed oil
6 carrots, chopped
2 large onions, chopped
1/2 cup tomato paste
6 cloves garlic, roughly chopped
1 (750 ml) bottle red wine
4 sprigs fresh thyme
2 sprigs fresh rosemary
3 bay leaves
6 to 8 sprigs fresh parsley
1 tablespoon black peppercorns
1. Preheat the oven to 400°F. Place the bones on a sheet tray, drizzle with 4 tablespoons of the oil, and roast for 30 minutes, or until golden brown.
2. Remove the bones from sheet tray and place in a large stockpot along with 2 tablespoons of oil.
3. Add the tomato paste, carrots, and onions, and let sweat for about 5 minutes, or until the onions become soft and translucent. Add more oil if necessary.
4. Pour in the red wine and simmer for 5 minutes. Add the remaining ingredients. Cover with water and bring to a boil.
5. Simmer for about 6 to 8 hours, skimming off any foam or fat that forms on the surface.
6. Cook until full flavored.
7. Strain and reduce by half.
Turkey Stock
Makes about 6 cups
2 tablespoons grape seed oil
1 turkey carcass
2 cups peeled and roughly chopped carrots
2 cups roughly chopped onions
1 cup roughly chopped celery
1 garlic clove, crushed
A few sprigs fresh thyme
2 bay leaves
1 tablespoon black peppercorns
1. Over high heat, brown the turkey carcass in the hot oil in a large pot. Add the carrots, onions, and celery and brown. Pour off any grease, deglaze the caramelized brown bits at the bottom of the pot with water, then cover the carcass and vegetables with more water.
2. Bring to a boil and lower the heat to a simmer, then add the garlic, herbs, and peppercorns.
3. Simmer for 2 to 4 hours, or until the liquid is full flavored. Skim off any foam that forms on the surface.
4. Strain and store.
Marinades
Marinades have been used since Renaissance times, when their primary purpose was to reduce spoilage and impart flavor. They are made with an acidic liquid such as vinegar, wine, citrus juice, buttermilk, or yogurt, and today serve two different functions—as a tenderizer and as a flavor enhancer. Once the meat is fully immersed, the acid breaks down the fibrous proteins and increases its ability to retain moisture. The addition of salt will allow it to retain moisture further. Meat should always be marinated in the refrigerator to prevent bacterial growth at room temperature, and all used marinade should be discarded once the meat is removed unless you are cooking with it. If you do want to serve some of the marinade with the meat, set an amount aside before bringing it in contact with the meat. A good marinade will have a balance of ingredients so that the outer surface of the meat does not become too sour from the acid. Once a piece of meat has been marinated, it is best not to freeze it, as the outer layer will become mushy. Marinades are particularly good with red meat and antlered game.
Red Wine Marinade
Good for two venison shoulders or their equivalent in meat
4 tablespoons grape seed oil
1 carrot
1 onion
1 celery stalk
1 clove garlic
1 (750 ml) bottle dry red wine
2/3 cup red wine vinegar
1 whole clove
2 bay leaves
1 sprig fresh thyme
Several sprigs fresh parsley
8 peppercorns
1. Heat the oil in a heavy-bottomed pan and sweat the carrot, onion, celery, and garlic. Add the wine and vinegar and remaining ingredients and simmer slowly for 30 minutes.
2. Let cool thoroughly and pour over the meat so that it is completely submerged. Let it soak for several hours and up to 24 hours.
Try with: antlered game, other red meats
Orange Brandy
Good for four small game birds,
Marinade or an equivalent amount of meat
Zest of 1 orange
1/2 cup freshly squeezed orange juice
Juice of 1/2 lemon
1 teaspoon salt
1/4 cup brandy
1/4 teaspoon dried tarragon
1/4 teaspoon dried parsley
1/4 teaspoon dried rosemary
1/4 cup olive oil
1/8 teaspoon freshly ground pepper
1. Combine all the marinade ingredients in a nonreactive bowl and whisk together.
2. Place the meat breast side down in the mixture. Marinate for 3 to 4 hours, turning over every hour. Cook the meat in the marinade and baste with it as you cook.
Try with: small game birds
Balsamic Marinade
Good for antlered game,
particularly the heart and other offal
1 part balsamic vinegar
1 part good olive
oil
Chopped garlic
Chopped fresh parsley
Salt and pepper
1. Combine your meat with these ingredients in a large resealable plastic bag (or in a bowl covered with plastic wrap) and refrigerate for up to 24 hours.
Try with: game birds, antlered game hearts, other tough cuts, offal
Good for two wild hog tenderloins, backstraps,
Sherry Marinade
or an equivalent amount of meat
1 1/2 sticks (12 tablespoons) butter, melted
2 tablespoons lightly crushed juniper berries
2 teaspoons coarse cracked pepper
6 whole cloves
3 cups sherry, cooked for several minutes to reduce the alcohol
1. Combine all the ingredients in a nonreactive bowl, then pour over the tenderloins or other meat in a nonreactive roasting pan.
2. Cover and let sit covered in the refrigerator for 4 to 6 hours before cooking.
Try with: game birds, javelina, hog, antlered game, bear, pheasant, partridge, dove
Brines
Brining is an old-fashioned technique that involves soaking meat or poultry in a flavorful saltwater solution to enhance its moisture and taste. The proper ratio is 2 tablespoons of salt to 4 cups of water. Brining does not break down the proteins in the meat in the way that marinating does. Instead, through osmosis, it carries salt and sugar inside the cell walls of the meat, which causes the proteins to unravel, interact with one another, and form a matrix that traps moisture inside the meat. The true purpose of brining is juiciness, whereas the true purpose of marinating is tenderization. It is a good idea to rest a piece of meat once it comes out of a brine, to allow the moisture to retreat back into the meat. This is an especially good technique for white meats, and for ducks with skin that may taste fishy.