This is what I do with the livers of the deer and wild pigs I shoot. Mazzafegati is a soft, sweetish liver and pork sausage from Umbria, in central Italy. Think of it as a mild-tasting version of Mexican chorizo. I first made a version of this in 2006 when I shot my first wild boar,
I am done with summer. This has been an odd year in my garden, and the summer’s crops are just not faring very well. Maybe it’s the lack of winter rains, maybe it’s the lack of summer heat; we’ve had barely a week of weather hotter than 100 degrees, and it’s August already. Oh sure, I
It’s summertime, and the eating is easy. With so much fresh produce, I am finding myself falling into a pattern these days: Chop, lightly cook — or not at all — toss with salt, lemon juice and olive oil, then eat. It doesn’t make for riveting food writing, but it does make for some riveting meals.
I made my annual pilgrimmage to Half Moon Bay in search of Pacific rockfish and lingcod yesterday, and I was not disappointed. I caught a 26-inch lingcod as well as five nice rockfish, which some people out here call “rock cod,” a term I find confusing because they taste nothing like a cod. Both lingcod
The hare is my personal Questing Beast and I am its Pellinore. Known as a jackrabbit here in the United States, hares neither are true rabbits nor are they particularly easy to cook. Maybe that’s why I love them. But under the right circumstances, they are plenty easy to hunt. Sadly, I have never been in
Skewered venison is about as old school as it gets. Whatever humans were before they were fully human realized shortly after mastering fire that sticking the meat of whatever deer were before they were fully deer onto a stick and roasting it was pretty darn tasty. Some things don’t change. I file this recipe under
It has been my experience that the state of a garden is a direct link to the state of the gardener. I am happy to say my garden has begun singing again. My little green world speaks to me often, but sometimes I don’t listen. When the stresses of work or home clog my ears,
Can I tell you how happy I was when my friend Jason suggested we go crabbing on Bodega Bay the other day? I’ve been having a longstanding affair with the genus cancer. As a boy I chased down little green crabs on Block Island and wondered why we couldn’t eat them. One of my fondest