By far, deer meat takes up the most real-estate in our three basement freezers.
We are fortunate to live in a high deer density area, so finding one or two each fall usually isn’t an issue. And now that hunters can take an antlerless deer in addition to an antlered deer, I suspect we will continue to have plenty.
While other game such as bear, moose, wild turkey and squirrel offer a much-appreciated variety, it’s hard to top a good stockpile of delicious, healthy and versatile deer meat.
We grill it, fry it and stew it. We slow-cook it, roast it and braise it. We grind it into burger and sausage. We’ve even canned it and corned it.
But there’s one simple preparation that’s hard to beat, even if it can be difficult to eat: jerky.
I don’t consider myself an expert when it comes to making jerky, but the process is simple enough that even I can produce a decent final product. It’s easy to lose yourself in hours of researching recipes and reading how-to articles, then find yourself unnecessarily intimidated by a straight-forward thing that has somehow become increasingly nuanced.
As with many culinary pursuits, the world of jerky has seeped into the gourmet realm, but the basics remain the same: remove the moisture from thin strips of lean meat by way of heat, and/or airflow.
Seasonings, cures and other ingredients can be added to enhance flavor, but in its most basic form, jerky is simply dried meat.
If prepared correctly, it can become extremely shelf-stable, highly resistant to spoilage and an excellent, portable, protein-packed food, which has been its original intent for thousands of years.
I doubt our ancestors ever dreamed their simple survival food would be served in countless flavors such as teriyaki, Carolina reaper or chipotle bourbon. Aside from salt, and maybe some black pepper, which not only adds flavor, but also acts as a natural fly deterrent, jerky was basic.
Left to dry on racks over fires, on rocks in the sun, smoked or even simply left out in extremely dry climates, making jerky was a crucial preservation practice in the absence of modern-day food storage methods such as refrigeration.
It was also common for jerky to be pounded into fine bits, then mixed with fats, berries and other items to make pemmican, another excellent survival food staple made of dried meat, rendered fat and sometimes berries.
If you’re wondering where I’m going with all this, the answer is no. I don’t sun-dry strips of meat on rocks in the driveway.
While I tend to lean more toward traditional ways, I’m willing to take advantage of current technology when it comes to this game.
I have tried different recipes over the years and experimented with my own, but was never truly satisfied. I’ve used whole-muscle meat, as well as ground meat with a jerky gun. The whole deal became too time-consuming, and the product was never exactly what I wanted.
After much trial and error, I’ve found the best way is using commercially available jerky-making kits, which typically come with a flavored seasoning, as well as cure, and simple directions.
I prefer using whole-muscle meat with High Mountain brand jerky seasoning and cure. Slice the meat into quarter-inch-thick strips, apply the seasoning and cure, let it sit overnight in the refrigerator, then dry it in a dehydrator or oven for 3-4 hours at 160-180 degrees.
For me, the jerky is ready when it can be bent in half without breaking, but is still dry enough to be nice and chewy.
I recently spent an afternoon whipping up a batch from a few top rounds I had set aside in the freezer for just that purpose. I figured there was plenty to snack on for a bit, with more than enough to vacuum seal and enjoy over the next few months.
That would have been fine, but I made the mistake of leaving the heaping mound of jerky on the counter to cool.
Later that evening, I walked into the kitchen and found my entire family chewing their way through the pile. Even the dog had grabbed a piece that one of our boys dropped.
In less than a week, I’ve watched the overflowing bag dwindle down to just a few handfuls, and the jerky has quickly become our 3-year old’s favorite snack.
That’s fine by me though. I would much rather watch him gnaw his way through a deer jerky stash than a bag of chips.
Besides, there is still plenty of burger and steak left for me.
