Cooking in the West

The long awaited general season rifle hunting season starts this week. It has been an important weekend for me ever since I was born into my parents’ outfitting business, and I have spent many years as a hunting camp cook, so I have always revered hunting guides. I love to listen to hunters’ tales of how their guide darn near killed them off dragging them to the top of every mountain but how it was worth it in the end to shoot an elk on a wilderness hunt. However after all those years of observation, I have come to the conclusion that being a hunting guide is not all that difficult. In fact, I have stumbled upon a low stress method of guiding elk hunters. Let me explain!

A few years back, regular hunting season had wound down to the last weekend, so it meant pressure time for those holding unfilled tags. My husband, Remi, was one of those pressured hunters, as he had drawn a coveted bull tag in the Bull Mountains, and he had not yet found a bull even though we raise a lot of them on our ranch.

As the waning days of the season approached, Remi and our son, Bret, made plans for the final weekend hunt. However, those plans were thwarted when Bret tested positive for Covid and also the fact that his dog was due to have puppies any day. I am pretty sure I was the last pick on the playground, but Remi asked me if I wanted to be his “guide” for the hunt. Even though I had not actually been hunting since before Brooke was born in 1985, I agreed mostly because the hunt would not be a grueling horseback ride to sleep in a tent wilderness hunt but rather a pick-up truck staying in a cabin with internet type of hunting. Being referred to as a “guide” started out as a joke, but due to my magnanimous success as a rookie hunting guide, I am thinking I can now add hunting guide to my resume!

Before we left, I received words of wisdom from my friend, Judy Martin, whose husband, Trapper, had been a government trapper for years. I said I was afraid I might die trekking through the woods searching for an elk, and she said, “Well, just sit in the truck with the binoculars.” In retrospect, I think Judy and I might start our own hunting guide school. The first afternoon, I ignored her advice and climbed up to the top of every rimrock vantage point on the ranch with my hunter. I let him take the lead in case we saw something to shoot at, but mostly so my gasping for air did not scare every elk within miles.

The next morning, we got up really early to plan our strategy. It took us quite a while to figure out shooting time, because neither one of us had brought our glasses. Note to Fish, Wildlife, and Parks: please publish a large print edition of the shooting light chart! After a couple cups of coffee, it was time for my hunter to head out on his sneak to a nearby elk honey hole, a large meadow on the fringe of heavy timber. I explained that he should go alone so there would only be half the scent for an elk to detect. It would be more beneficial for me to stay in the cabin in the recliner with a cup of coffee and the spotting scope. If I spotted something, I would try to signal from the porch, so he should look back towards the porch occasionally. To me, this seemed like the perfect strategy. I know the guide usually offers something sage and motivational to the hunter before sending him off on the perfect strategic plan. They say things like, “Shoot straight or shoot often!” Instead I said, “Have fun!”

After a brief nap, I realized it was almost shooting light, so I jumped up and hurriedly checked the spotting scope. I was astonished to see seven bull elk grazing in the meadow quite peacefully. I stepped out on the porch and silently made a series of wildly exaggerated gestures pointing at the elk. I was still excitedly gesturing when two shots rang out, and one of the bulls dropped. I knew that this is when the guide normally shakes hands with the hunter and congratulates him before the real work begins. This experience would be quite unlike those wilderness guides who have to walk back for the horses after field dressing the elk, which is usually in a deep ravine full of deadfall and thick saplings and grizzly bears, and then they have to poacher pack it back to camp often in the dark. (Poacher packing requires splitting the elk in half and packing each half out on the guide’s and the hunter’s saddle horse while they lead their horses back to camp all exhausted and bloody and smelly yet victorious.) Instead, I started the truck to drive over and pick up the hunter so we could load the elk with the Hydrabed bale feeder. Obviously, this hunting guide thing does not have to be all that difficult!

My hunter gutted his own animal, because as I explained to him that is the quintessential essence of the experience. (Hunting guides use words like “quintessential essence” in hopes of getting bigger tips. My hunter did not tip me, so he must not have been impressed with my vocabulary nor my intuitive skills as a guide.) I did try to help by holding a leg here and there, so I got blood on my favorite shoes to prove that I was a participant rather than a spectator.

Really all that was left was to post a picture of my hunter with his elk on Facebook and modestly hail myself as the best darn recliner hunting guide ever. I began thinking that if I actually had a guide’s license and belonged to the Montana Outfitters and Guides Association, I would likely have been named the MOGA rookie guide of the year in the armchair category!

I would like to feature some wild game recipes this week. My featured cook this week is Jerry Cooper of Warren, Wisconsin. Jerry sent me a wonderful old (1975) cookbook entitled “You and Your Wild Game.” Jerry says he has been coming out to Montana every year for over 40 years, because he loves Montana and comes to Garfield County north of Jordan to help out on a friend’s ranch. I would say his friend is mighty lucky. Thanks for the cookbook, Jerry! This wonderful cookbook was also a how-to guide for processing your own game, and it had a wonderful chart on the relationship between carcass weight and the weight of processed meat.

The cookbook suggested the following marinades to tenderize, enhance, or disguise game flavors. Cover meat with one of the following marinades and allow to stand in the refrigerator for at least 24 hours: vinegar, French dressing, tomato sauce, undiluted tomato soup, tomato juice, fruit juice (lemon or pineapple), commercial marinades, or milk.

Venison Hawaiian:

1 lb. cubed deer or elk steak

1/4 C. flour

1/2 C. butter

1/2 C. boiling water

1 t. salt

2 green peppers, chopped

1/2 C. pineapple chunks, drained

2 1/2 T. soy sauce

2 T. cornstarch

1/2 C. pineapple juice

1/4 C. mild vinegar

1/4 C. sugar

Roll meat in flour and brown in butter. Add water and salt. Simmer gently in the skillet until tender. Add green peppers and pineapple. Combine remaining ingredients in a saucepan and cook until thick. Pour over the meat and simmer together for a few minutes.

Antelope Kabobs:

1 lb. ground antelope

1 T. onion, finely chopped

1 1/2 t. sour cream

1 t. curry powder

1/4 t. salt

1 t. lemon juice

Mix ingredients thoroughly. Pat around wooden skewers in a long cigar shape. Cook in shallow very hot fat until brown.

Game Birds in Sour Cream:

2 lb. game bird cut into serving pieces (pheasant, duck, grouse, wild turkey)

flour seasoned to taste

1/4 C. butter

1/2 C. sliced mushrooms (opt.)

1 C. sour cream

1/2 C. water

1/4 t. thyme

Roll meat in seasoned flour and brown in butter. Transfer to a casserole dish and add sour cream and mushrooms. Pour water into the skillet and then into the casserole to utilize meat drippings. Sprinkle with thyme and cover tightly. Bake at 325 degrees for one hour or until meat is tender.