- Wild Game
Hunting & Fishing Stories
How I get the game I cook.
Morel hunting the way I do it is a lonely affair. Miles walked in a beaten, burned landscape. A morel here, a morel there. It’s not the bonanza of a big burn, but I wouldn’t give it up for anything.
For the second time, I journeyed 300 miles south to hunt wild pigs. And for the second time, good karma lead to a good hunt. Crazy how that works out, eh?
Last month I hunted tundra swans in Utah, and we ate our bird for Christmas dinner. When I tell people I have hunted and eaten swan I get reactions sunning the gamut from excited interest to full-on horror. Few animals carry the cultural baggage that swans do, and even I am not immune to these mixed feelings.
Geese are not ducks, nor is goose hunting like duck hunting. Geese are far tougher to fool, far tougher to kill. But when it all works, there is nothing else that thrills me more. I had such a hunt last week.
Most hunters, as well as those who raise livestock for meat, deal with this paradox: We love what we kill. In this modern age, this is a difficult thing to explain to those who live outside our world. A recent experience with some jackrabbits makes me want to at least try.
I don’t normally get excited about rockfish. They are easy to catch, and are often small. But recently in Alaska, I caught a gigantic yelloweye rockfish. I was giddy, and knew exactly what to do with it: Grilled redfish, or in this case “orange fish,” on the half shell.
Posted in American Recipes, Featured, Fish, Hunting & Fishing Stories, Recipe, Summer Recipes | Tagged Cajun and Creole Recipes, easy recipes, fish recipes, grilling, rock cod, wild food | 11 Responses
Over the past few years I’ve seen the ranks of new hunters and anglers entering these pursuits in search of honest food blossom to the point where they make up a substantial part of the hook and bullet community. Only there’s one thing: I don’t see them joining groups like Pheasants Forever or Trout Unlimited. That needs to change.
Salmon are much more than just a fish. To many Indian cultures, they are a lifegiver, a source of mystical power and force. Like most Americans, I didn’t believe such stories. But after one of the weirdest fishing trips I’ve ever been on, I’m starting to come around to the Indians’ way of thinking.