Another trip to my home state provided a reminder of my love for wild game. My father and brother Ben are enthusiastic sportsmen, and take great pride in stocking the family freezer. My sister-in-law tamed our rowdy crowd with her notorious elk meatloaf served with garden carrots (she blanches and freezes them whole) tossed with pineapple (I will be copying this idea) and buttered wild rice.
Ben is still enjoying the art of jerky, (read about it here) and has sharpened his technique beyond further improvement. The goose jerky he pulled warm from the dehydrator was so tender it barely put up a fight before melting directly onto my tongue, revealing a perfect sweet and spicy marinade.
Before returning to the east coast, we were bid farewell with grilled antelope steaks. Ben noted that the sweet flavor is due to the absence of sage in the antelope diet, it's meat leavened by prairie grass only.
I was raised eating this way, and earnestly appreciate the nostalgia. Breaking bread with family is special. Breaking bread with family whom still take to the mountains to put meals on the table is even more so. I have never been so fully fed.