If you are what you eat, I am a wild woman. I eat a diet of fish, wild turkey, feral hog, and deer with the occasional purchase of chicken, brats, and Italian sausage.
A menu sampler looks like this:
- Wednesday–Trout and black drum baked on a bed of rosemary and lemons with a great bayou shrimp sauce on top
- Thursday–Brats with coney sauce made with ground venison
- Friday–Feral pork loin marinated in oregano, balsamic vinegar, and basil, baked, and served on pasotto (little pasta pieces cooked like risotto which is a very cool way to cook and talk to Bob while he works on the meat)
- Saturday–Out to eat
- Sunday–Pan fried venison backstrap with gravy on rice
- Monday–Italian sausage subs
- Tuesday–Wild turkey breast marinated with lemon, olive oil, and cilantro, pan roasted
- Wednesday—Venison roast marinated in rice vinegar, oil, thyme, and garlic, slow cooked on a bed of green apples and topped with a sprinkle of black pepper, coriander, and sliced oranges.
- Thursday–Venison pot pie with leftover roast
Bob and I have found that wild meat takes a little extra time and preparation, but that doesn’t offset the convenience of having a meat market in our freezer. Using the green apples and oranges to mitigate venison’s gaminess was new to us. I love the combination of flavors and the fruity undercurrent that penetrated the meat.
I also love using the fresh herbs in the window garden to season the wild meat. My grand-daughter Nina gave me planters with herbs awhile back; I moved them over to Bob’s since that is where I cook most of the time. They stayed pretty and healthy until Chelsea moved out and I became the plant-keeper.
I have a feast or famine philosophy of plants. When I noticed the cilantro and parsley were browning and droopy, I flooded all the plants with water. T wohe cilantro and parsley would look happy and the rosemary and oregano would start dying. I tried tough love. (You’ll get water if you start looking better. If you insist on looking limp and brown, you’ll have to get out of the window. You are depressing the other plants.)
After I replenished the dead plants, Bob took over the watering. He has a more nurturing nature than I do. I swear he was talking to the St. Augustine when he pulled clover out of my yard last week. The herbs in our window garden are green and pretty as long as their lives are in Davis hands.
Bob has started hammering the herbs into whatever meat we are getting ready to cook; that seems to bruise the herbs and make the flavor more intense. It’s interesting to see what flavors mix with which meats. Coriander, which I never used until I bought it by mistake, is great with the wild turkey; cardamom, a little pricey but a little goes a long way, tastes great on feral hog.
Hunting season was getting old by the end of January. Bob might de-friend me for saying that. He prefers to do his own meat butchering and that’s messy. He printed butchering diagrams and bought an electric knife. DIY wild butchering includes a heck of a lot of work. For Bob. I am the freezer paper tearer and labeller. Much less bloody. Our kitchen looked like Silence of the Lambs at times.
We’re starting fishing season now. That is the Queen of England We since Bobby’s been doing all the fishing and fish cleaning, and Bob and I have been doing the cooking and eating. That’s my favorite way to fish.