June/July 2006

Coming Out Party Eating Wild Existential Moose Goodies at the Grange Just the Story Mayor of More Soapbox Derby on Retaining Elderly Citizens Tropical Flavor

Eating Wild

Opinion: Maine Woods & Waters

Illustration by: Brad Eden
Wild Game gets a bad rap, but if properly prepared can have the naysayer asking for seconds.Anyw
I find myself pawing through my chest freezer this time of year to see what wild game is lurking within. That’s where the wild turkey gobbler that fell to my bow last spring resides, waiting patiently for a game dinner that I have planned. Suspended in ice are a few woodcock and grouse that tumbled at the bark of my shotgun last October. Safely ensconced is a balance of venison steaks, roasts, and burgers compliments of a buck that was introduced to my deer rifle on a hardwood ridge this past November. If I scrounge to the bottom I’ll find moose steaks, a gift from a friend thanking me for helping him haul his bull out of a clearcut. Every carefully labeled package and ziplock bag conceals an unfinished story that ends on the dinner plate.

Earnest hunters take pride in preparing their game properly so nothing is wasted. All wild game needs to be field-dressed immediately to allow the heat to exit the body and for the meat to cool. Game birds are traditionally hung with feathers on, for several days, to age before being plucked or breasted out
. Deer are hoisted up into their time-honored position in trees and game poles, also to cool, age, and tenderize before they are processed. The fact that locals can drive by and see that someone “got their deer” is a smug bonus.

Game is a staple in my family’s diet, and game birds, such as woodcock, wild turkey, and ruffed grouse are a culinary luxury. These birds are lean, with none of the dyes, steroids, or chemicals found in domestic fowl. They have a distinct yet subtle taste as compared to the ho-hum of store-bought poultry. The exception being woodcock, which are an acquired taste like stout beer or a potent cigar: You either relish them or abhor them. If not overcooked, game birds make for excellent table fare.

There’s something reassuring about a deer in the freezer, like having a full stomach. The fact that you have saved on grocery bills doesn’t hurt either. My opinion is that venison steaks should be cut no less than an inch thick, coated with olive oil and minced garlic, and broiled not fried. Tougher cuts can be used to make venison jerky, an Eden household favorite. Venison burger is outstanding for making meatballs and meatloaf but really shines in chili. Hardly a month goes by that there isn’t a pot simmering on our stove.

Wild game gets a bad rap as being gamey and tough. Being left to linger in warm weather is usually the cause for gaminess. Too many deer steaks have been fried to the consistency of shoe leather, and too many game birds are overcooked and rendered unpalatable. I’m certain there’s an emotional component, where some people can’t get past how close they are to the actual death of the animal and are more comfortable shielded by the anonymity of cellophane-wrapped store-bought meat. This puzzles me because, after all, a hamburger was at one time a live animal, no matter how you disguise or rationalize it. I can usually sway the naysayer if I can get them to try my grouse-smothered-in-apples-and-grape-jelly dish or persuade them to try a bowl of my venison chili. I admit to occasionally tricking guests with wild game disguised as domestic fare. After the initial surprise they are usually demanding seconds.

There is a sense of ceremony when sitting down with friends and family to enjoy a meal harvested in the Maine woods: a sol-emn yet celebratory ending to the hunt.



Brad Eden is an artist, writer, Registered Maine Master Guide, and owner/editor of the online magazine www.uplandjournal.com.

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