When you field dress and process an animal, you’re left with a lot more than meat and bones for stock. You have offal1, you have the hide, you have hooves, you have things that are beyond my purview of preparing. Because I took up hunting to become closer to my food, while processing my deer, I felt a certain moral responsibility to ensure that those “leftovers” were put to use in some way2.
I was listening recently to an episode of the Woodside Podcast3 featuring an interview with Chef Eduardo Garcia4. In it, Eduardo expressed the idea that we should be trying to use every part of an animal that we harvest. He recollects tying caddis flies with the hair from deer he had harvested, figuring out how to clean and use intestines for sausage. He suggested that we look at any animal we’re using in a way to take full advantage of it.
I’m not a good or dedicated enough fly fisherman to tie my own flies5, nor do I have the the time and equipment to clean intestines6 — but Eduardo raised another point throughout the podcast, talking about wonder. How can we be more curious about the world around us? How do we shift our thinking from just eating venison backstraps to roasting a haunch or making venison osso buco7? How, do you, as an emergent hunter, even start to get out into the woods?
Eduardo’s solution is simple: go out and look around. Sit down in the grass, at a park, in the woods, on a bench, in a field and watch the birds. What are they doing? What noises do they make? How do they react to you? To other people? Animals? What are the ants doing? Why are they moving in that direction? Is there food around? Be like a child and wonder all of these things.
And then, go try and find the answers. You’ll learn so much this way.
Sitting in a tree stand this year, I did a lot of watching, wondering. I watched squirrels and chipmunks bury their acorns and nuts for the winter, wondering how many would grow into new trees. I watched hawks hunt and circle, reacting to me rustling leaves in the tree, wondering what they thought of me. I watched deer bed down, watched them eat, watched them bolt, wondering when one would present a shot. Each day, even when I didn’t draw an arrow, I learned more about patterns — patterns that eventually helped me recover my deer after I arrowed it.
We could all stand to do a little more wondering.
So, I wondered, what could I do to make use of what was left from processing. A standard practice is to leave your gut pile in the woods. At my friend Kyle’s, where I hung my deer, the coyotes ate well from the offal. So, when I was left with some extra hide and scrap meat from the skull I’ve been attempting to clean at home, I figured I’d do the same. Except, I wondered — what is actually bringing this deer full circle? To find out, I hung a trail camera over the pile so I could see what else my deer was feeding.
A mink. A hawk. A fisher. Racoons and possums galore. Squirrels and chipmunks took a sniff, too — even a morning dove. I’m still waiting to see a coyote or a fox, but I’m glad that the deer will not only provide nourishment to the Family CWD, but also the wildlife around our house. It’s pretty cool stuff8.
I realize that gut piles and deer hides make for a tough transition to thinking about food, but that’s where we find ourselves today. It would be irresponsible to avoid that part of the food system — no matter what you eat9, there is an impact, there is death, there is waste, there are leftovers. As responsible humans, omnivores, we owe it to ourselves and the world to make the best use of as much as we can.
So, with that in mind, let’s make Brunswick Stew.
In a large pot, melt as much butter as you can tolerate and gently cook an onion or two, a few cloves of garlic, and maybe a leek until they’re aromatic. Season with salt, pepper, Worcestershire sauce, and some cayenne, and cook until the Worcestershire is reduced. Add some smoked meat, and then about a cup or two total of a sweet, vinegary BBQ sauce and a mustard-based sauce — whatever ratio you like most. Add a can of diced tomatoes, some corn — frozen or canned — and stock to thin to your preferred consistency. Let simmer for at least two, but preferably 5-6 hours.
Serve with either fresh bread or over rice.
There you go, Brunswick stew. I won’t try to credit this recipe to either Brunswick, Georgia, or the Brunswick Islands, North Carolina — both of which lay claim to its creation — but I will credit that it is delicious. As always, feel free to make additions or substitutions as you see fit. Given the theme of today’s musings, we used leftover venison roast, venison sausage, and venison stock — but in the past we’ve made this with pulled pork, smoked chicken, chuck roast, and just about any other meat we have on hand.
With that, enjoy your weekends. Very happy birthdays to the Kiddos CWD — Kiddo’s being yesterday and the Warthog’s today. To celebrate in their honor, head outside, try to climb something daunting, and always get back up when you fall down. Don’t forget to stuff your stockings. Whatever you do, relish the last week of true autumn — winter will be here in force before you know it.
Which, I recently learned, derives from “all fall" in Old English, because when you gut an animal, it literally “all falls” out.
And, if we’re being honest, to do something new, to challenge myself — to grow as a person.
On the same podcast episode, the host, Ben O’Brien, proposes to rename what I’ve typically heard as an “Adult Onset Hunter” to an “Emergent Hunter.” Whatever you call it, that’s what I am, and, if you eat meat, what I’d encourage you to consider becoming as well.
If you don’t eat meat, you can accomplish much of the same connection to food through growing a garden.
Eduardo has a fascinating story which is told in the film Charged. He’s most famous for being shocked with 2400 volts of electricity while on an archery hunt — and not only surviving, but thriving.
And yes, I realize that
may give me grief for listening to a podcast when I have in the past avowed myself as “not a podcast guy” — but I think I’m reversing positions. If the dialogue is good, the host and guest not too sanctimonious… I will admit that I enjoy listening to them while driving.Though Bill, if you’re interested in taking up fly tying, I’ll save some hide for you next time!
Yet… but Mrs. CWD likely will prefer I continue to leave the sausage stuffing to a professional.
Or, as Kyle did, brining and smoking a venison leg and making a ham — which we will certainly be doing with my other leg!
For those curious, here are some images:
Yes, for you too, vegetarians and vegans. Every acre of monocrop vegetables is an acre less of biodiversity, of insects, birds, butterflies, small and large mammals and birds. I don’t want to sound too preachy, but it’s important to remember this, to be aware that every choice has a consequence. You don’t need to dwell on it, but you can’t ignore it.
Loved seeing the photos of the wildlife enjoying the windfall.
Oh, and the Brunswick Stew looks really tasty, too.
I love you!
Thoroughly enjoyed this, especially the footnote where you admit to revising your past poor podcast perspective :)
sounds like such a powerful experience. love the idea that the best way to get started is to just "go out and look around". feels like there's a version of that for beginning with pretty much anything new