Tag Archives: game meats

Beer and Biltong

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This is my first post where I’ve cheated.  Cheater cheater biltong eater.

I’ve cheated because I didn’t actually cook anything this time, even though this is a cooking blog.  A while ago on Twitter, someone suggested I try biltong as one of my dangerous foods.  I didn’t get around to trying it, but always kept it in the back of my mind, and only got around to ordering some last week.  Apparently you can make it yourself (here’s how to do it), but how would I know if it tasted right if I didn’t try some of the good stuff first?   I may use this logic to order in cool stuff from now on.

If you’re not from South Africa, you might now be wondering what biltong is.  It’s a special form of dried, cured meat,

similar to jerky, although it’s not sweet or spicy, includes coriander, and is usually thicker (and South Africans say that labelling biltong ‘jerky’ is an insult).  Apparently when the Dutch migrated to South Africa in the 1600s they brought the process of drying meat with them, which was handy because it took a while to build up herds of farmed animals, and large game kills could have gone to waste in the hot climate.  South Africans biltong-ize just about anything now – game, fish, shark (yes, I know shark is a fish, but it’s cool enough to mention on its own.  Hey, did you know sharks pee through their skin?  An aside, yes, but one of the few nuggets I recall from my university education so had to share), ostrich, but most commonly, beef.  According to the wise old Internet, biltong is South Africa’s national snack, always present at sports matches, and best accompanied by beer.  You had me at beer.

I ordered some online from Eat Sum More, a South African food store north of Toronto run by SA immigrants who come from a long line of butchers.  I ordered a half-kilo for $28.75 without having a mental image of how much a half-kilo was.  It was a lot.  So I had to figure out what to do with it.  Of course my mind leapt to “baby shower,” which was where I was going yesterday.  I chopped some into bite-sized pieces and brought cheese and crackers to go with it to decrease the weird factor, ready to biltong-ize my Aunt Sharon’s house full of women.

I walked through the door into a world of pink, in honour of my cousin’s new baby Madelyn.  There were gorgeous pink cupcakes, a table full of different sized jars of every pink candy you could imagine, and a table full of carefully chosen lovely luncheon foods.  I pictured myself slapping my dehydrated wrinkly brown meat sticks

into the middle of it all and chickened out.  Imagine a bunch of ladies daintily gnawing their way through some sinewy meat carcass?  Entertaining, yes, but I became concerned I may have become excommunicated from my family.  I sheepishly snuck my biltong back out the door again, un-unveiled.

I’m kind of glad I reclaimed it, though, because the biltong is very tasty, and even though it’s been less than 24 hours since I opened it, my half-kilo supply is quickly dwindling.  And I haven’t even tried it with its suggested ale accompaniment yet!  I keep telling myself that the added protein will quickly turn into muscle and give me a biltong-a-licious bod, but the salt and fat might foil that plan.  Oh well, the taste is worth it.  Rating:  3 Yums.  Definitely worth a try.

Beverage Pairing:  This was an easy one.  Zulu Blonde Export Ale – a South African beer with an awesome name whose brewmaster says on the website, “For sure, it’s a beer that will go well with biltong.”  Seems to be available in the UK, but check the website for other availability.

 

The best bison Frank has ever eaten

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Apologies to my many, many fans for leaving you without a blog update for so long.  The truth is I was on vacation, and I thought that if I blogged about where I was and what I was doing someone might break into my house and steal my stuff.  Instead, someone broke in and left us a plant.  I have no clue where the plant came from, but those are my kinds of burglars.

Anyway, we just finished going on a trip to Canada’s Wild West, and so of course one of my primary travel goals was to cook something weird and semi-local.  I hadn’t cooked any strange meat for a while, so I made my sister drive me to Rocky Mountain Game Meats to convince the guy who was more administrator than butcher to hunt me down some game from the depths of their giant freezer.

I considered asking him for this…

Thanks junglewalk.com

…because I didn’t even know what a muskox was before I saw it as an offering on their website and that’s weird eating for sure, which of course is a good thing when it comes to my blog, but I ended up going with this…

Thanks weforanimals.com

I was slightly disappointed in myself for going with bison, because who hasn’t had a bison burger (I’m guessing the large majority of humans on the planet, actually) but when I saw that they offered it as Osso Bucco steaks (and only $40 total for 8!), I thought the recipe was appropriately dangerous and could be tried with lamb for anyone reading this who couldn’t get their paws on any bison.

Here’s my picture of two of the frozen steaks.  It was initially kind of boring so I made it into steaks that might be in a Tarantino movie:

But back to bison and Alberta, which was where I was.  Did you know that North America was once covered in bison?  There were about 75 million of them here apparently, and Alberta has an especially cool tribute to them and the First Nations people in their Unesco heritage site, “Head-smashed-in Buffalo Jump.”  You may think that that name seems cruel and that the practice helped to wipe out the buffalo, but no, like with pretty much everything else, First Nations people only took what they needed (by strategically chasing a few bisons off a cliff, for example) until the late 1800s when the whiteys came and gorged, making a quick buck on the hides.  Sometimes the Eurotrash just shot the poor old bisons for sport and let them rot without using anything from them.  It was said that a person could walk from Texas to North Dakota on bison bones without ever touching the ground.  Jerks.

In the early 1900s, some ranchers began collecting the few bisons who were left, protecting and breeding them, and it was their ranching grandkids who supplied my meat.  There are only about 250,000 bison living in North America now, and now they’re mostly farmed for their meat, which is lower in fat and cholesterol than beef, pork, or chicken.  And if you’re a regular reader of this blog you’ll know how this recipe turned out based on my previous sentence (insert ominous music here).

Since I’m getting sick of hearing myself talk, without further ado I’ll pass along Bryan McCaw’s Osso Bucco recipe.

Bison Osso Bucco (serves 8)

  • 8 bison steaks for Osso Bucco (or 4 whole lamb shanks)
  • 2Tbsp unsalted butter
  • 2Tbsp oil
  • Salt and pepper
  • 2C diced onion
  • 2 carrots, peeled and diced
  • 4 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1/2C fruity red wine
  • 28oz can Italian plum tomatoes
  • 2Tbsp fresh thyme leaves
  • 1 large sprig of rosemary
  • 2Tbsp fresh oregano
  • 2C beef stock
Directions:  Preheat to 350.
1.  Heat the oil and butter in a heavy skillet.  Brown the meat on all sides.  Remove to plate and season with salt and pepper.
2.  Add the onion, carrot and garlic to the pan.  Saute the veggies until soft and browned.  Add the wine, bringing to boiling and reduce to a glaze.  Add the tomatoes and herbs and bring to boiling again.
3.  Add the stock to the hot tomato mixture and bring to boiling.  Remove from heat and add the meat (I had to move everything to a roasting pan to have room).  Make sure the meatiest bits are immersed in liquid.  Cover and place in oven.  Bake 2 hours or until tender when pierced with fork.
4.  When the meat is tender, remove from the pot and keep warm.  Degrease pan juices if necessary.  Remove any large herb sprigs.  Puree some pan liquids and whisk in a tablespoon of butter and heat to a glossy sheen (I couldn’t puree because my sis doesn’t have a food processor at her house, poor soul).  Add the warm meat.
5.  Plate with vegetables and sauce.

Results:  Meh.  I had tasted the recipe before using lamb and it was fall off the bone fantastic, but with bison it was chewy.  I probably should have marinated it for ages and then cooked it for even longer than the recipe called for to tenderize it – note foreshadow from before where I hinted that healthy meat needs lots of help softening up (see kangaroo, alligator and ostrich posts).  My sister ate it though, which says a LOT, and all of her in-laws said it was good too, and they have no real reason to kiss my behind.  Maybe I’m becoming the picky one.  My bro-in-law, Frank, said it was the best bison he had ever eaten.  Of course, it was also the first bison he had ever…  You had probably guessed that after you read the title though, right?

Rating:  1 Yum for the bison, but do try the Osso Bucco recipe with lamb, because it’s extra delicious.

Interesting fact:  The name bison is to buffalo as First Nations is to Indian, in a way.  The latter are based on early associations from the European homeland, but the former are the more accurate names.

Alligator Bites

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I wasn’t very afraid of cooking alligator, because all I had ever heard was that it “tastes like chicken.”  For some reason, I’ve always thought that it was alligator or crocodile that was at the root of that joke, and that a blind taste tester would be definitely be fooled if he was presented with chicken and croc bits that had come out of the same bag of shake and bake.  It will come as no surprise to people familiar with eating alligator that in this case, I was wrong.   For all I know, crocodile is being swapped for chicken in TV dinners around the world as we speak, but trying to do the same with alligator would be a dead giveaway.

 I bought the frozen alligator in the same shopping trip to Black Angus Fine Meats and Game I’ve talked about in my last few entries, and I decided to break it out as an appetizer when my foodie friend came over for a visit the other day.   It was a pricey appy at $15.99/lb, which is how much I bought, but she’s an old and dear friend, so she’s worth it (and now that I’ve complimented her she might make the effort to leave comments at the end of this blog).  Here is a photo of the starting point:

I thawed it in the microwave and then decided to deep fry it using a thick beer batter, even though I’m not a regular fryer, as a rule.  It’s messy and unhealthy, so I usually avoid it, but I have been known to fry up a legendary fish and chips occasionally by following Jamie Oliver’s advice, and I thought that this might be the easiest way to serve up reptile in bite sized chunks.  Hey, I hadn’t thought of this before – we just basically ate dinosaur.  Cool.

 Anyway,  as I first began to cut the filets, I knew there would be a problem.  My kitchen scissors, which I use for efficient stir frying and such, met with tension once in every few snips.  It was like I was cutting a really grisly piece of meat, and I wondered if that would have an impact on the finished product.  It had exactly the impact I would have expected in finding gristle in the raw version of what I was trying to cook.  Gristle in the cooked version.  It looked pretty on the outside….

…and the batter was tasty, but each piece of alligator was hit or miss, and even the hits were foul balls instead of home runs.  It was all very chewy – I thought as I was eating it that calamari lovers might like it – but some pieces were fishier and gristlier than others, and that would be hard for anyone to take.  At one point I said to my friend, “Hey, I just had a good piece,” but even that one was pretty chewy.  My new experience would make me avoid alligator completely in future, at home or in restaurants, unfortunately.  But the dips and batter I had chosen were nice, if I do say so myself.

 Beer Battered Alligator Bites

  • 1lb alligator, cut into bite-sized chunks
  • 1 12oz can of beer.  I used Mill Street Organic (excellent)
  • 1 1/2C flour
  • 1/2tsp salt
  • 1tsp paprika
  • 1C flour, for dredging

Further battering instructions here.

  Dip #1 – Parsley Onion Dip

(I modified the green goddess submissions here based on what I had on hand, listed below…)

  • Mayo
  • Handful of parsley
  • Green onions
  • Red onion
  • Splash of lemon juice
  • Salt/pepper

 Combine all in food processor, but make sure herb and veggie portions are generous.

 Dip #2 – Pre-prepared “President’s Choice Sweet with Heat Prepared Mustard”

(apologies to non-Canadians, just go with Dip #1 if you can’t find this, or pick up a fancy sweet mustard.  For Canadians:  this dip may have been the highlight of the appetizer)

Rating:  1 Gag. 

It was all the alligator’s fault that my recipe didn’t work, so the man-eater will pay for it in my rating.  We ate lots of it because we were hungry, but I wouldn’t make it again.  Sorry Louisiana swamp people – you may need to consider sources of revenue beyond gators.

Ostrich – the other other red meat

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I’m not sure that ostrich should be listed in the “me got game,” section of my website, but since I don’t have an enormous catalog of blog entries, I’m going to have to go with what I’ve got.  But game?  I think that anyone who thinks it’s a game to chase and shoot these not-so-bright animals who “hide,” by covering their eyes with sand might be the same kinds of people who enjoy doing puzzles by letting someone else do it and then bringing the last piece at the very end.  But I guess when they’re not hiding they’re running.  Timing is everything.  All it took for me to get my hands on one was a quick drive to Mississauga.

I found a very small ostrich steak at Black Angus Fine Meats and Game, and decided to serve it up to my cousins as an appetizer, mostly for the entertainment value.   So far, my husband has been the main taste tester for my exotic creations, but I thought I would take a risk and branch out.  Plus, when someone feeds you an entire meal and all you bring is an appetizer, you get a whole lot more cred if it’s something strange and memorable.  It was a win win to serve to my cousins, really, as long as none of them threw up.

I read about how to prepare the ostrich ahead of time, and most descriptions said that it could be used in recipes in the place of rare beef.  I was slightly concerned – unless Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom had steered me wrong, ostriches are birds, which made me think of chickens and salmonella.  My “birds need to be cooked,” experience had misdirected me this time though, because apparently ostrich has an ideal pH balance and so doesn’t attract harmful bacteria.  Ostrich is also healthy in other ways, being lower in fat, calories and cholesterol than skinless chicken, while also being high in protein and iron.

I was shy to take control of a barbeque that was not my own, so I asked for a frying pan and grilled the ostrich steak until it was medium rare (same as you would a regular beef steak).  I sliced it cross-ways, and because I couldn’t find a really great ostrich appetizer recipe, I laid each slice across thinly sliced toasted baguette, spread with herbed goat cheese and red pepper jelly.   I’ll spell it out for you below, in case you’re that kind of person.

Ann’s Improv’d Ostrich Recipe

  • Toasted whole wheat baguette slices (slice the baguette, roast in oven on baking sheet at 400, 8mins)
  • Herbed soft goat cheese
  • Red pepper jelly
  • Medium rare ostrich slices

Combine, in the order above.  Here is what it looked like (sorry for the finger shadow I only noticed later):

 

Overall Impression:  Not bad, although my stomach still raised warning flags for unjustifiable reasons.  Maybe it was far too healthy.  I had to assess whether or not my cousins were just being polite, but they said they liked it, and cleared the plate of every last piece I had prepared.  One cousin said the consistency reminded her of a cross between liver and beef (something I read said that it is so lean it can be off-putting).  The jelly may have overpowered the ostrich, which may or may not have been a good thing, depending on your perspective.  I would probably try ostrich again, but I wouldn’t put myself on the mailing list.

Rating:  2 yums

Boar not entirely boring

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Okay carnivores, enough of exotic fruits and veggies for a while.  This one’s for you.

Last week I visited Black Angus Fine Meats and Game in Mississauga and picked up a thing or two, even though doing so made me feel kind of uneasy.

You see, Black Angus specializes in game meats, and although I have never been vegetarian, for some reason I feel a little meaner eating animals that aren’t used to being eaten, even though I doubt that cows, pigs and chickens are overjoyed to be the lucky ones that are usually forced to volunteer.  Maybe it’s because I know that the farmed animals weren’t enjoying the freedom they were plucked away from as much as an animal that romped in the woods was.  I stopped feeling quite so bad, though, when I remembered that one of the meats I chose had once looked like this:

(Shiver)

I had chosen a French rack of wild boar, which I was drawn to more because of the cut than the animal – it looked like rack of lamb, and I was hoping that it was the cut that made rack of lamb a juicy, easy grilling option and that I would find the same results with this more uncommon meat.  Spring has sprung early this year, and after a week of sun I was ready for a barbeque.   At the same time, I was worried that wild boar would taste exactly like pork would and that it would be a pricier letdown (it was just shy of $40 for the 2.3 pound roast that might serve three adults).  I vowed to make my husband eat hotdogs one night post-boar so that I would only be spending $20 on meat per dinner and threw it into the basket.

Here is what the roast looked like before I started…

And here is what it looked like after I had sliced the fat from it.

I was kind of surprised to see so much fat on a wild animal, but who was I to judge?  Maybe my boar had eaten more than his fair share of truffles.  Actually, when I read about them here, I learned that they primarily eat fruit, nuts, seeds and tubers, which I thought might have a nicer influence on the meat than whatever farmed pigs eat, helping to justify the extra cost.  I also read that their population is very plentiful and widespread across Europe and Asia, even to the point where they have become pests in some areas.  My guilty conscience that had once associated eating wild animals with endangering them felt relieved.

I searched for recipes on how to prepare wild boar, but didn’t find much, so I ended up cooking it very simply by brushing it with olive oil, seasoning it with coarse salt and pepper, and then brushing it again with honey.  I seared it over high heat for about 5 minutes (it flared a bit, maybe because of the fat or honey or both) before I flipped it bones side down, where I cooked it over indirect medium heat, barbeque at about 400, not heating from directly beneath the meat, for another 40 minutes.  It ended up being a perfectly juicy medium.

Overall Impression:  Very nice, although pork-like.  The meat was flavourful and juicy and was not “game-y,” as is always a worry with wild meats.  I am convinced that wild boar is the best option if you know that a snobby person is coming to your house for dinner.  You could casually say, “Oh, I just picked up some wild boar, I hope you haven’t had any yet this week,” and then even if they were picky with food, they would be okay with it because it would taste familiar.  They would brag to their snobby buddies about what you had cooked and how delicious it was for months.   Serve it with a cranberry coulis – slam dunk.

Rating:  3 Yums.  Straightforward, tasty, and different.