Afterward, Pascua and I loaded the deer into his pickup and drove to a small house in Lanai City with an archway made from antler sheds and wild sheep skulls, under which hung a sign that read Bob the Butcher.
At first glance, Bob and his wife, Lorie, who run the business together, didn’t inspire a lot of confidence. They gave off a disheveled lack of urgency that might have been the result of years of living on island time, partaking in perspective-altering substances, or both. Then I saw him at work, carefully trimming the meat from the tips of the ribs to create frenched racks of loin, and rolling the shoulder meat into roasts tied up neatly with butcher’s string. It just so happens that Bob is a classically trained chef who’d had enough of the restaurant rat race and wanted to take it down a notch. Without a doubt, he’s the most talented game butcher I’ve ever met.