Plywood to Plate or one of my “Road kill” Recipes

Alaska is a sometimes strange and wonderful place to live. And while coming into winter with five fresh inches of snow for Thanksgiving the down time gives one time to reflect on the summer and have a chance to write a few things down from earlier in the year.  I think with the longer nights there “seems” to be more time as you stop doing some of the outdoor things in the afternoon and early evening as darkness sets in now around four in the afternoon. 

Put away now are the fishing gear, boats and personal watercraft as well as most of the hunting gear as much of the subsistence game has been acquired and in the freezers with only some winter trapping still going on in the rural areas.

I have many friends who do live a subsistence lifestyle which hunt and fish each year to provide food for their families.  It is a time honored tradition here that both Native and non-native families participate in which makes one appreciate where and sometimes when you get food to provide for the family. 

Most people never think about that roast or steak sitting on the shelf in the grocery store or what went into getting it to market.  Granted the food coming out of the grocery store may not have been “free range” meat having been raised solely for the purpose of slaughter but the idea of going out and searching an area, stalking the prey, and finally making a shot to bring down your winter’s meat supply is something fairly unique to Alaska.

People hunt for all kinds of reasons.  Food . . . to be certain . . . but there’s more to it for most people than that.  The “hunt” is just the beginning and once the shot is made there is much work to be done to get something on the dining room table.  There is that satisfaction of knowing your family will eat protein all winter and the exercise provided by the hiking and the watching that goes with it.  I can’t kill a chicken, but my grandmother was actually pretty good at it and our southern fried chicken was some of the best around.  I admire the skill it takes to stalk, cleanly kill and butcher a wild animal.  I like the hunters I know very much, and more importantly, I like the meat and the self-sufficiency they bring to those around them.

Earlier this year when I heard a friend of mine killed a bear, I brought some coffee for everyone and drove over to their house to see it.  That is part of the weirdness that is modern rural Alaska . . . I was sipping a coffee and driving a rig (truck) in a place where there are enough bears for people to hunt them for food . . . is still not lost on me after living in Alaska awhile now.

On the other hand, this is the season when at least one of my Native friends craves bear burgers and the season for food-making of all kinds . . . growing gardens, raising chicks and killing things to eat again.  The first commercial and subsistence gillnet opening for sockeye salmon has long since come and gone now and the first fresh meat of the spring usually comes from black bear.  Many of my friends do not hunt bear in the spring when it just becomes active after its winter hibernation, because it will have lost a lot of weight and it may be somewhat parasitic from the long sleep.  Bear should be hunted in the fall after it has had a chance to feed for an entire spring and summer.

This is not to imply that everyone or even the majority of people around this area eats bear.  Many years ago that was true, but I lived here for almost 6 years before ever tasting bear meat.  By the time I had arrived work was already in progress and the hard part getting the animal out of the brush and back to civilization for butchering completed.

This dead bear was on his back on a plywood table, his body cavity cleanly split from chin to tail and emptied of entrails.  My hunting friends were carefully peeling the thick black coat off the flesh . . . scraping the papery skin as they pulled the fur back using small, very sharp knives.  It was quiet as they worked . . . no music or small talk, the focus strictly on the work at hand.  The skin side was dry and white.  When the coat was off, they would carve the meat from the bones, saving even the smallest scraps for sausage.

Their bare hands were red and wet from holding the inside of the ribs or a leg to keep the bear from slipping as they scraped.  I told them to be careful of trichinosis.  One laughed and said he could lick his fingers and not get it.  “You are thinking salmonella,” he said, adding that you have to eat bear meat to get the bug that lives in their flesh, only cooking kills it.  Just like pork.  The crock-pot is the best way to prepare a roast, another advised. “Chop some onion, some garlic, add water and simmer it all day.”

Later I was given a roast and I thought about that day watching the bear go from plywood to my plate before cooking it up for dinner.

It was so tender we could cut it with a fork.

I chewed mine slowly . . . knowing that when the pads and clawed toes were stripped off its front paws . . . what remained did not look like a chubby bear foot at all.  It looked like a white wax feminine hand.  It looked almost human.

From my “Road kill” Recipes

BEAR ROAST

4 lb. bear roast

1 1/4 tsp. paprika
1 tsp. salt
1/4 tsp. pepper
1/2 tsp. seasoned salt

3/4 cup brewed coffee

1 yellow onion, chopped
1 red bell pepper, chopped
8 oz sliced mushrooms
1 tsp. garlic powder, or 4-5 chopped cloves

1 tbsp Worcestershire sauce
3 tbsp red wine vinegar


Rub all sides of bear meat with the first four ingredients.

Put the vegetables on the bottom, and then the meat.
Add the coffee, Worcestershire sauce, red wine vinegar, and spices.

Cover and cook on low for 7-8 hours, or on high for 4-5.  I cooked our meat on low for exactly 8 hours, and then it was on warm for another 3.

* Cook on high setting for 1 1/2 to 2 hours per pound until 180˚F if you use a smaller or bigger roast (check internal temp. of thickest part of roast with meat thermometer).

Yummy!  If you didn't know coffee was in there, you wouldn't have guessed that's what the hint of flavor was.  I liked how the gravy was dark brown, and rich.  To make nice thick gravy: remove meat from pot; stir flour in small amount of water and add to meat juices.  Serves 6.

Bon’ Appe’tit!

Ice