NEBRASKAland Magazine is dedicated to outstanding photography and informative writing with an engaging mix of articles and photos highlighting Nebraska’s outdoor activities, parklands, wildlife, history and people.
Issue link: http://mag.outdoornebraska.gov/i/725550
34 NEBRASKAland • OCTOBER 2016 I remember it well. It was Thanksgiving morning of my sophomore year of college. I had just arrowed my first- ever deer on my aunt and uncle's place on the Elkhorn River. Back at our house in Millard, when I popped the trunk of my American Motors Ambassador to show the gathered family my harvest, the first words I heard were those of my laughing brother-in-law: "Jeez Gerry, you shot a dog!" Actually, it was a fawn. Though the critic deflated my festive mood, it taught me a valuable lesson: "If seeking praise, shoot a bigger deer, preferably one with antlers." For several hunting seasons following, I tried to fulfill those expectations, but was hindered by a bad case of buck fever. Whenever an antlered deer approached my stand, my heart pounded uncontrollably and my mind and body functioned as if seized by delirium tremens. My arrows faithfully sailed high, low or wide, and once even shook right off the rest. Annoyed by the whizzing arrows, the bucks would faithfully trot off, their waving white tails signaling "better luck next time." In my youthful years of bow hunting, I did manage to bag one basket buck at close range and a few does and fawns – I maintained better composure when antlers were not visible. After graduate school and a few years working out-of-state, I returned to Nebraska and began muzzleloader hunting with my older brother, Bob, in the rolling pastures and woods around our ancestors' hometown of Steinauer in Pawnee County. Bob was a more experienced and skilled hunter than me, and also a verified meat hunter. Not selective about his quarry, he shot fawns, does or bucks, whatever first wandered into his sights. He was also a more refined butcher and chef of venison than me, and under his tutelage I learned these arts. My conversion to meat hunter had begun. Prior to this, I, like many others, was not a big fan of venison. It was too dry and rangy flavored for my raised-on- beef tastes. Bob's first lesson: when butchering a deer, remove every last speck of fat from the meat, for it tastes nasty. Luckily, deer fat is located on the outside of the muscle groups, not marbled throughout the meat like on beef, and therefore, removable. On front and hind quarters, for example, using a sharp knife, we separated the muscle groups and cut them from the bone, then tediously trimmed the layers and globules of fat from the meat. The roasts were then wrapped individually in cellophane and then a layer of freezer paper before freezing to prevent freezer burn. Not until thawed and ready for use did we cut the roasts into hearty, thick steaks. Bob also knew the benefits of a good marinade (see sidebar for our favorite recipe), and I was soon marinating my up-to-an- inch-and-a-half-thick steaks in the spicy brew for up to 24 hours before grilling or pan frying. Poking the marinade deep into the meat with a fork several times during the soaking allowed the acidic vinegars to further break down muscle fibers, increasing tenderness. A good marinade also enhances the meat's flavor, while hiding the last vestiges of that "wild, deer taste." Sometimes I forego the marinade and roll the raw steaks in a mixture of onion powder, garlic powder, poultry seasoning, salt and pepper, forming a thick coating. Prepared in this fashion, the steaks come off the grill with a flavorful black crust that contrasts with a juicy, pink interior. Another error of my youth: I would fry or grill my lean deer steaks at a high temperature to well-done shoe leather. Again it was brother Bob who By Gerry Steinauer, Botanist While many deer hunters pursue trophy bucks, others prefer harvesting young bucks, does and fawns for the fine quality of their meat. While many deer hunters pursue trophy bucks others prefer harvesting young bucks On Becoming a Meat Large does are a choice target for meat hunters. PHOTO BY JON FARRAR