I've been traveling through Turkey for the past couple of weeks, both in Istanbul and along the Mediterranean coast. Most of my time was spent doing lots of “research” a.k.a. eating, and if there's one thing I took away from all this hard work it's that Turkey is a street-food country. Everywhere I traveled, there was someone on a street corner selling something to eat, whether it be roasted corn or chestnuts, simit (sort of like a sesame-encrusted bagel), rice-stuffed mussels, fresh melon, or, like most places in Europe, some type of grilled or roasted meat on a skewer.
Back in college, I spent one of my first federal student-aid checks on camping gear. I bet I could make a pretty convincing argument that spending the money on outdoor equipment was a better investment than paying my tuition. Or, at least, that’s how I rationalized it at the time. I will say, much of what I learned in college has been long forgotten, but I still use some of the gear today, including my trusty Coleman Dual Fuel 2-Burner Stove.
As obsessed with (and frankly, terrified of) a nuclear disaster as I was when I was young, the whole doomsday madness going on today has pretty much passed me by. Maybe living within sight of an ICBM bunker, one gets used to having an ever-present harbinger of the End Times in your backyard. That, or I’m just too busy to care. Still, there is one thing Wild Chef readers and doomsday preppers have in common: a perhaps unhealthy obsession with food.
The real problem I have with the preppers is the kinds of food they’re putting up. I’m not sure I want to live in a world where I have to eat white rice and something called textured soy protein every day. And what about working your way through a three-month supply of Rice-a-Roni? That thought alone is enough to make me hope my house takes a direct hit from the first Russian SCARP (which, considering the Minuteman missile buried across the road, is not that unlikely).
While it may not look like much yet, I’ve got high hopes for this year’s garden. (Of course, I always have high hopes early in the season, which devolve into high hopelessness when facing a weed-filled garden come summer.) A few weeks ago, I cleaned out all the cornhusks and started the dirty work. The level of soil in the two 4X12-foot beds was only about halfway up the 6-inch boards, so my first order of business was building that up.
I’m all about the hunting and gathering lifestyle, but there’s just one thing I’m not sure I could (literally) stomach: eating insects. Apparently, our Dutch friends don’t have the same qualms about bugs that I do—at least if you consider the recent story out of Amsterdam about the new Insect Cookbook.
Need more protein in your diet? Try adding worms to your chocolate muffin recipe mix, or spice up a mushroom risotto with a sprinkling of grasshoppers.
When it comes to the brown liquor, I’ve never been too fond of bourbon. I don’t mind it in a cocktail such as an Old-Fashioned (though, even then, I prefer a rye or Canadian blend), but neat or on the rocks—it’s just not my thing. For Field & Stream deputy editor Colin Kearns, however, not liking bourbon is akin to not liking America. So when he learned I’m more a Scotch man, he scoffed: “I’ll take bourbon over that stuff any day of the week.” Well, what better day of the week than Friday, when we could all use a drink. So, what’ll you have: Scotch or bourbon?
I’ve been blessed to be able to eat some pretty good meals in my life, from elk steaks in the high country to duck confit in fancy restaurants. But I have to say I enjoy nothing more than to sit down to a simple meal like this pronghorn guisada. A little meat, a few beans, and some tortillas—add in a couple cold beers to quench the heat and you’d be hard pressed to find me any happier.
A lot of recipes for guisada suggest cutting the meat in cubes, but I prefer to brown and braise whole round steaks, then slice them up just before serving. I feel you get a better fond—those crunchy brown bits stuck to the bottom of the pan—that way, which really amps up the meaty flavor of this spicy Tex-Mex stew.
Recently, a Wild Chef reader e-mailed me with a good question, and I’d like to ask for your help answering it. Chris killed an old buck during last fall’s rut and he found the meat to be “not really appetizing.” This is a story you hear from deer hunters quite a bit, though I’ve rarely experienced “gamey” game meat.
During Nebraska’s rifle season last fall I killed the buck in the photo and two does, which all had a musky odor when I cleaned them. The meat smelled strong, too, but the flavor wasn’t horrible—just different. And the first deer I ever killed came back from the processor virtually inedible (for which I blame the processor). Other than that, every deer I’ve tagged, whether it be whitetail or mule deer, rutting buck or young doe (with the exception of yearling fawns, which taste like veal), have pretty much all tasted great.
I’m just coming off a whirlwind road trip to the NRA’s annual meetings in St. Louis and am facing two more long hauls in the coming weeks for turkey hunts in Kansas and Wyoming. True to form, I’m not thinking about the much-needed oil change for my truck or that I should probably consider picking up some new tires, but instead, am wondering what to eat when I’m on the road.
Generally, I try to eat a pretty healthy diet. I could probably eat less red meat (though it makes me happy) and more fruits and veggies, but I’m pretty good at avoiding processed foods and white flour (with the exception of flour tortillas, which are a vice for me). I’m not even a sweets guy—desserts and sugary snacks are a rare occurrence.
Draper and I have been talking about adding another regular on the blog — something to help wash down all of the great game and fish that’s served here. So, we present The Toast. Every now and then we’ll bring reviews, recipes and stories of our favorite drinks (and, no, not all will be booze) to enjoy with a meal or just to celebrate a good day outdoors.
I’ll kick The Toast off with some notes about a new whiskey I was lucky to enjoy over the last month: Crown Royal Black. I’m definitely more of a bourbon and rye guy, but I enjoy Canadian whiskey now and then. I’ve always liked classic Crown — but now I like Black more.