77 ~ Deer camp dining
Welcome to the Wisconsin gun deer hunting season. I have a tradition of hosting ‘deer camp’ here at the farmhouse – a hunting friend or two to sleeps over on opening weekend, and together we share some time in the woods and, at least as important, some good food.
Assembled last night for dinner, on the eve of opening morning, was my hunting buddy Greg, my (non-hunting) brother Tom, housemate Jack and his partner Rachel. Preps for the meal started in late afternoon, with Tom cutting some frozen, snow-draped stalks of Brussels sprouts from the garden, while I salted and seasoned a thawed rack of venison, from a doe Corina and I killed last year. I think it’s good luck to clear as much of last year’s venison from the freezer before starting this year’s hunt, and asking the Earth to provide more.
We ended up with a stellar meal, all hands cooperating in the kitchen while Tom fed the cooks with his guitar. The final menu:
Rack of venison glazed with birch syrup, and served with Corina’s Swiss spruce bough jelly (tannenschössling; a fantastic pairing with venison)
Brussels sprouts (sweetened by the freeze), steamed and tossed with salt & pepper and my nephew’s heritage Italian olive oil
Braised red cabbage with apples
Mashed potatoes
Raspberry/strawberry/rhubarb pie
Schnapps made from apples from the Alpine home of Corina’s brother and sister-in-law.
Good eating, and good life: Everything we ate came from the land here (or Switzerland), grown or hunted by ourselves, and prepared and eaten with good friends and family. Even the wine had a story we knew – a bottle of excellent Malbec brought back by Jack and Rachel from a recent trip to Argentina.
Tom tucks in.
Photo by Rachel.
This morning, Greg and I rolled out of bed about 4 am (or rather, I rolled off the couch in front of the fireplace). We fried potato pancakes made from the leftover mashed, and grilled some maple venison sausages (again, from last year’s deer). Some leftover pie and coffee, and then into our coldest weather gear, and off into the windy dark to see if another supply of venison could be had.
I flushed some roosting turkeys in the dark, then with my .30-30 I hunkered down from the chill west wind on the lee side of an ancient block of limestone. Midmorning brought some baker’s snow (a dusting on the cupcake of the world), and it being November, with the strong westerlies, swans were on the move. Skeins of brightness against the dull gray sky. Should one get lost in late autumn, you can rely on migrating swans as an unerring compass. Swans are the only birds that migrate through Wisconsin west to east, always west to east – making a beeline (er, swan line) for Chesapeake Bay.
I didn’t see any deer this morning (nor did Greg), but the turkeys, squirrels, pileated woodpeckers and swans (and pie in the belly) were enough to keep me warm.
After a lunch of venison brats and homemade kraut, we’ll see what the afternoon brings…