Why I Hunt...

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salt and pepper

Executive Chef
Jun 13, 2011
I have the greatest respect for hunters. They hunt sparingly, and use all of the animal carefully. Nothing is wasted of these.

I understand many hunters do this to feed their families during difficult times, and even in good times when they can save money from the groceries.

I was treated to deer meat one time. I don't know of the recipe, but it was cooked in a crockpot and OH!!! It was so very good!

I must say, however, I prefer my meat to be pre-passed away. If I had to hunt to get meat, I'd be a vegetarian. I don't think I could shoot an animal.

With love,
I thought this article on the "etiquette" of shooting in the UK might amuse those of you who hunt in the USA. (Shooting as a social activity - "Downton Abbey" here we come.)

New To Shooting - Read our Advice on Driven Shooting Etiquette & Tips - GunsOnPeg

Obviously, it doesn't apply to a farmer or one of his friends taking a pot-shot at a rabbit or hare for dinner.
That was pretty amusing and thorough, but I still don't know what a peg is or what the peg numbers are for. ;)
That was pretty amusing and thorough, but I still don't know what a peg is or what the peg numbers are for. ;)
Its just a marker. As in a peg in the ground.
Peg - The numbered stick indicating the position of a shooter at a covert shoot or partridge drive.
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Interesting article Mad Cook. And amusing also. I dare say it may be a bit formal for the American hunter. ;)

Nice looking venison S&P. :yum:

We don't have Mule Deer but we've got Whitetails a plenty.

I don't hunt as much as I have in the past and never really wanted to hunt Bambi. Why? Too much work involved processing the harvest. I let others hunt my property and they share as much as I want with me.

I've hunted waterfowl but as I get older getting out in the cold to bag them becomes less desirable.

Now the one thing I'm interested in is a Turkey. That is one smart bird. (Not the domestic ones) Those buggers have outsmarted me for years now. I see them all the time except when it's hunting season and I'm hunting them. And if I have they have shown me that I'm one step behind them. :mad:

Cat, I can see your view. But deer can cause a lot of damage to crops and when the population gets out of hand hunting is the best way to handle the situation. People get good food to eat and deer don't suffer from starvation.

I'd also like to recommend that folks read the real Bambi by Felix Salten published in 1929. It's a good read and not the Disney version.
My dad used to walk to work and back along the railway. He'd often bring us a rabbit that he said had been hit by a train. I don't know why he was so lucky at it, because I used to walk miles on those same tracks, looking for mischief. I often found mischief but never a rabbit.

And I never understood why these train-killed rabbits always had tiny lead balls in them that hurt our teeth. But we just spat them out and kept eating.

And then there was our dad's recipe for poached salmon, which involved a knock on the kitchen door after us kids had gone to bed, and in the morning there'd be a lovely-looking poached salmon lying in the bathtub, with the cat going crazy trying to get at it.
I'm guessing that the "poached" salmon does not involve simmering in a small amount of liquid, eh? ;)

Oh, some of it got cooked that way, you betcha. We didn't have a fridge so it was kept in the bath with the water trickling. We (and the cat) ate nothing but salmon for the next three days.

But mom and dad were quite a pair at it. He'd come in the door, toss the rabbit to her, and she would pull off the head and skin it in about ten seconds sharp.

Years later, when we were living in a 50-room mansion, lording it with my dad as the clubmaster of a golf club and my mom (and us kids) as the caterers, he was sitting with members in the bar one day when a partridge stunned itself by smashing its way through a window. It literally fell in my dad's lap, and in a single motion he wrung its neck and slid it across the hall to my mom in the kitchen, who snatched it up. Neither of them spoke much about their childhoods, so I can only imagine where those reflexes came from.

It got written up in The Scotsman as: "Clubmaster gets a birdie on the 19th Hole."
I could listen to stories of 'sustaining' one self all day long.
Thank you for sharing. Reminds me of being a kid and roaming farms with air rifles and eating what we shot.
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