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Grilled doves basted with homemade huckleberry (or blueberry) barbecue sauce. You want this. Yes you do.
My fig tree is exploding with fruit right now, so I decided to revise my recipe for an old favorite: Fig jam, spiked with ouzo, lemon and bay. I don’t eat too much jam and jelly, but this one is absolutely worth your effort.
Ah, Matilda. She is the boar that just keeps giving. Ever since my boar hunt in March, I have been working my way through every piece of this feral hog, who was nearly as fatty as a domestic pig. So fatty I saved the whole belly and made French bacon, as well as a spicy [...]
In case you hadn’t noticed, I actually like the rest of the salmon as much – if not more – than the fillet. This is salmon head soup, done Japanese style. And don’t worry, there will be no eyeballs staring back at you: You only use the salmon heads to make the broth.
If you want to make your own fruit wines – wines worthy of the snootiest wine snob – this is how to do it. I’ve been making fruit wines for 20 years, and here is my method. It requires some special equipment, a lot of patience, and a little math. But the result is more than worth it.
It is chanterelle season in much of America right now, and I am even hearing a few isolated reports of chanties here in California. What to do when you want to extend your season? Pickle your chanterelles. They’re awesome preserved this way.
There are a lot of ways to smoke salmon, but this is the method I’ve perfected over the years. Making perfect smoked salmon requires a little attention, and a lot of time. Here’s how to do it.
Another good recipe for the dog days of August: Grouse salad with Sungold tomatoes and barley. It’s meant to be eaten warm or at room temperature, on the porch at sunset, beer in hand.
Taking a break from what has become the Summer of Salmon, this is my go-to summertime pasta sauce recipe. A mix of fresh or preserved tomatoes, lots of fresh fennel and a little bit of anise-flavored liqueur brighten up this sauce for warm days.
At the end of a long bay in a corner of Prince William Sound lies a stream with no name. In that stream swim untold numbers of salmon — enough to turn the water black. If, God forbid, I were dying of cancer, one of my final acts on this earth would be to fish this place. It is magical.