I spent most of the front half of this week breaking down, butchering, and processing a little over eighty pounds of venison. I took my time with it, mostly — using it as an opportunity to transition from hunter to eater. As I type this, I have a pot of
’s “Pozole Rojo” simmering on the stove top, which will be the first “real” meal we’re making with this first deer. The first of more (of both meals and, hopefully, deer) to come.Butchering is not quick process1. And, it would be far easier to just drop the deer off at a processing station, fill out a cut sheet, and get back individually packaged portions of venison2 without any effort at all3. But that’s not appealing to me. I like being the only link4 in the food chain5. I like being able to determine which cuts are steaks, which are roasts, which get ground, and which are stew meat. I like to be able to make those decisions as I’m breaking down the animal, seeing how this individual deer was built, and adapting how it will nourish us over the next few months. Processing is a good word for it: it’s more than just breaking down the animal into the component parts, it’s also understanding and reconciling with the death required to get to this point. Doing this processing fills me with a sense of gratitude and connection. It’s those feelings I talk about when I talk about radical eating.
Since the last few weeks have been pretty heavy — with talk of enlightenment, of death, and of life — I figured this might be a good opportunity to reset. After a month of writing about hunting, I think I’ve etched that story well enough in my own mind to shift to new topics6. But, since we haven’t done it in awhile, we’ll do a quick plowman’s lunch first, with some things to read, to ponder7, and to enjoy.
We’ll see you back here next week — when we’ll be finally delivering on one of those venison recipes I keep getting requests for.
READING
How Plains Indians Can Help Defeat Modern Anxiety — Some of my friends8 have called me a “sicko” when I describe the satisfaction I get from some of the (often mind-numbing) workouts I do. But that reckoning with pain, with hardship, is something I find innately powerful. Reading
’s description of the Mandan Okipa ritual, I had the same “yes!” response that I did when Reader Cheffy sent me an article on “wetsuiting” for stripers in Montauk, as when I first learned about misogis, as when I read this account of ski-in/ski-out sheep hunting in Canada. We need these sorts of rituals in our lives, and I’m inspired by Sam to keep thinking about how to incorporate them (safely) into the lives of the Kiddos.Notes on the Electro Dome — I always appreciate
’s reflections on our tumultuous relationship with technology. This piece, on adaptability, resourcefulness, and what we lose when we become reliant on our devices, might make you want to chuck your phone into the garbage and reacquaint yourself with your connection to nature (radical, dude!).On Value —
writes beautifully on men, on value, and on friendship. I’m inspired to try and get a little deeper in my own conversations with friends (and family).Be Useful — Tying in nicely to all the pieces above,
writes about how the mantra to “be useful” functions as a guiding light in his life, a “convenient sanity-check for decision making.”Reduced to Possession — This essay by
is about killing a doe but is really about so much more. It is some of the best writing on hunting I’ve read and was a major inspiration for my own reflections last week. Really powerful stuff.Headlamps & Homemade Bows — I guess I can’t get too far away from hunting this time of year, because I truly enjoyed
’s reflections on his experiences hunting with his father and with his kids. I just hope I can be making the same memories with my own Kiddos one day.He’s not on Substack, but I’ve been enjoying Brady Sadler’s new newsletter The Afternoon Shift. The quote on creativity and connections below is pulled from one of his recent emails.
Finally, I published some pieces elsewhere.
was kind enough to feature my essay “On Living” in the October Digital Issue of . Then, yesterday, published this dive into apple cider and asked if he could use my recipe (adapted from another Jesse, Jesse Griffiths) for maple-cured and cider braised turkey leg in the latest from .OBSERVING
EATING
Unless, of course, you’re Chef Chris Walker, who taught me most of what I know about butchery. He told me he can break a pig down into primal cuts in about 90 seconds.
See the “GROUND VENISON” below, on sale for $20/lb, which I noticed at a high falutin butcher shop in Boston (not Savenor’s, don’t worry, Chef Chris) the other day while I was grabbing a (delicious) sandwich.
This is appealing only so far as it would mean I didn’t need to spend a few hours working after I finished, cleaning up my work station, sanitizing my coolers and equipment, and resharpening my knives. That’s something I wouldn’t mind having some help with!
Ironically, the sausages we made have no links, because Mrs. CWD and I forgot to leave enough space in the casing to actually twist them out. Whoops!
Except for my neighbor, who helped me drag the deer out of the woods — and for Mrs. CWD who was an integral part of the sausage making process.
I’ll still be hunting, still be connecting — don’t you worry. You just won’t have to read my yammering on about it for at least a few weeks!
Since I can’t footnote image captions, some credits: bison photo from
and quote on mental toughness from ’s book Tough Rugged Bastards. Wild Alaskan salmon in the freezer comes via ’s recommendation.
I will also be processing this week. I find it deeply fulfilling work and can't imagine delegating it out. I do get lots of help from my husband (who helped skin and debone) and sons (who helped me get the deer out of the woods), but everyone in the end has a personal connection to the meal in some way, shape, or form. I'm also stoked that this deer will be my granddaughters first taste of venison and that is satisfying on a whole other level.
I'm looking forward to your venison recipes! Can. Not. Wait.
Great piece, Lou. Meat, training, outdoors, wildlife, reading, writing, family - this is a great life.