Wild Turkey Salad Time

IMG_2411Drew and I plodded on in search of his first turkey, headlamps showed the trail ahead. The land we hiked toward was public, but entirely surrounded by private property. To circumvent any trespassing violations we had to stay below the “high water mark” alongside the river. A boot width wide the trail was our rout. Over scrub, under trees and through soft dirt (that threatened to drop us into the river below) we hiked opening morning of turkey season.

As the skyline started to turn blue we could see shadows in the trees across the river. The black forms of roosted turkeys, not yet stirring, became clear in the early morning. “Watch this” I whispered, taking cover in behind some sage. I got out my trusted box call and gave a few halfhearted clucks. A gobbler sounded off across the river, then another, then another. Through our binoculars we watched four toms get puffed up and sound off, using there thick deciduous tree limbs as de-facto dancing poles.

It is this call-and-respond that hooks so many turkey hunters, me included. One cluck was all I had to let out to get the gobblers talking and strutting at some unknown hen in the distance. But between us was a river, one they have never crossed for me. We watched, hopeful that a gobbler would cross over when they left the roost. To no avail. The trees cleared and the birds were on solidly un-huntable private property.

So on we walked down the river. Eventually landing on the BLM happy hunting ground. The area is low country river bottom – sage in the surrounding hills with a few scattered areas of timber along the edge of the river. The birds roost in the timber patches night after night and feed on the fresh green hills during the day. Keeping hidden in the area was the biggest issue, a lack of thick cover meant stillness and camouflage was an imperative.

In the distance, and most importantly on our side of the river, Drew heard a faint gobble. We advanced a few hundred yards, almost to the first patch of timber. I stuck a hen decoy in the trail and started calling. Soon we heard the sound off of an eager tom. Then another. Two birds if we were lucky – one for each of us. We tucked ourselves next to a cliff, behind a wall of sagebrush and waited.

Unfortunately, it was a blind corner and the birds would not commit. They were more than willing to talk but they pulled the classic turkey “hang up” move. Luckily the terrain was in our favor. Drew and I backed out climbed up the dirt embankment onto a plateau of sage behind us. Using the terrain to our advantage and crawling a lot we circled around the backside of the birds, finding a open area in the sage to place the decoy. Again we tucked in behind some sage and called.

The response was instant. Birds – and not far off. Annoyingly, the gobblers were basically in the position we had just left. I have a hard time waiting on hung up birds, so I tend to move more than I should. My lack of patience in the turkey woods has gotten the best of me several times. Ill often find myself calling to birds that are probably standing on my last hiding place. Or the birds will bust me moving from one location to another. Basically, patience is not my virtue.

From our set up I could see the head of a tom rise over the ridgeline at about 50 yards. Bright red and walking quick he let off a gobble. Then he caught sight of my decoy and almost instantly became a puff ball of feathers. Up went his fan and out went his feathers as he did the cha-cha closer and closer to our decoy. I would calmly purr as he closed in, then he would send off a thunderous gobble.

At thirty yards I whispered to Drew “Shoot him.”

After a long pause Drew whispered back “I can’t see him.”

A quick dart of my eyes (I dare not move my head) and I caught sight of Drew in his cover. It was so thick that it formed a wall around us. I had set myself up to have a view of the decoy. In his haste to get in position Drew was behind way to much cover to get a shot off.

The bird was now closing in fast. 20 yards, stop and strut. “Shoot” I would whisper. Waiting for the bird to turn a circle I raised my gun. 10 yards I could see the bird blink now. “Shoot him!” I would mouth. My heart at this point was making so much noise I was fairly certain it was going to give away our location. Much closer and I was going to shoot. Nine yards, I started to control my breathing. Eight yards, I took the safety off my gun.

Finally the bird walked into a window in Drew’s cover, only to be standing directly behind my decoy. “I don’t want to shoot your decoy…” he said. “I don’t care!” I fired back. I watched the resolve come across Drew’s face. That steely gaze hunters get right before they pull the trigger is unmistakable. At seven yards the bird turned, giving us a rear-end view of his fan, and Drew raised his gun. Then he leaned in toward me and placed the butt of the gun in the crook of his elbow. The bird turned to face us, its feathers fell and it cocked its head looking at the both of us in the cover. Drew fired.

Back at the truck it was cold pizza and warm beer for a celebration. Our feet hurt, the inside of Drew’s elbow was turning purple from a bruise…but the turkey in the back of his truck made it all worthwhile.

turkey salads

Spring Turkey Salad Recipes

Spring is often the start of “salad” season for folks. I know my garden is light and green at that time. I’ll often find myself foraging greens or eating fresh spring flavors at the time. Below is a trio of easy spring salads that you can make with your turkey.

The first part of all three recipes is the same – cook a turkey breast and shred it. When that is done the variations are endless – Asian to Scandinavian dishes can be created. Like with most wild meats however, wild turkey is incredibly lean. That is why in all the recipes below I am adding a “fat” of some type. It can be mayonnaise or sesame oil, it does not matter, what matters is a moist and delicious salad.

Cooked Turkey Breast

1 wild turkey breast, skinless

Salt and Pepper

2 tablespoon canola oil

Preheat the oven to 350°. Season wild turkey breast with salt and pepper. Heat medium sized skillet on high for four minutes, add oil. Carefully add the turkey breast and sear until golden brown on one side. Flip and place in oven for 15-20 minutes or until cooked completely through. Remove turkey breast from oven. Let turkey cool completely. When turkey is cool, use a knife and fork to “shred” the breast meat. With wild turkey the thinner the slices/ shreds the better.

Asian Style Shredded Wild Turkey Salad

1 Shredded Wild Turkey Breast (See Above)

4ea breakfast radishes, sliced into rounds

1 cucumber, peeled, seeded and sliced into half moons

1 red pepper, sliced into matchsticks

1/2 red onion, sliced into matchsticks

1 stalk green onion, sliced

1 clove garlic, minced

¼ cup soy sauce

1 Tbsp honey

¼ sesame oil

¼ cup peanut butter

2 Tbsp Sriracha

In a large bowl combine the turkey, radishes, cucumber, red pepper, red onion, green onion and garlic. In a medium bowl whisk together the soy sauce, honey, sesame oil, peanut butter and sriracha. Next add the “dressing” to the turkey and vegetables. Toss lightly to combine. This recipe is best if it sits for a few hours.

Turkey Curry Salad

½ cup mayonnaise

1 tablespoon fresh lime juice and zest

2 tablespoons honey

2 teaspoons curry powder (Even better would be a red curry paste, but not necessary)

Salt and pepper

1 Shredded Wild Turkey Breast (See Above)

1 cup red seedless grapes, halved

2 stalks celery, diced

½ small red onion, diced

¼ cup cashew pieces

In large mixing bowl add the mayonnaise, lime juice, lime zest, curry powder, salt and pepper. Whisk to combine. Next add the turkey breast meat, grapes, celery, red onion and cashew pieces. Stir to combine. Serve with Pitas

Wild Turkey Waldorf Salad (Recipe inspiration from food.com)

1 Shredded Wild Turkey Breast (See Above)

2 stalks celery, sliced

1 green apple cored and chopped

1 cup red seedless grapes, halved

½ cup pecans, toasted, and coarsely chopped

½ cup mayonnaise

½ cup crumbled blue cheese

1 teaspoon honey

Salt and pepper

In a large bowl add the turkey, celery, apple, grapes, and pecans. In a small bowl whisk together the mayonnaise, blue cheese and honey. Pour the mayonnaise mix on top of the turkey and vegetables. Gently mix to incorporate. Taste and then season with salt and pepper as desired.

Middleman’s Buck

It was still dark when Cameron and I parked at the gate and got off “Pepe” my little mule ATV. We closed the gate behind us and walked slowly up a high desert road to a drainage I had hunted heavily in archery season. The draw held a ton of legal, ie forked horn or smaller, deer. Fortunately, it was Cameron’s birthday, he was just turning ten, and at sunrise was a legal hunter in the state of Idaho. He carried his grandmothers .243 over his shoulder, bright orange cap on his head and an ear to ear smile.

We whisper talked about Pokémon, about sagehens, about school and about hunting ethics. This was far from the first time Cameron had gone hunting with me, he has gone since before he could walk. But this was the first time he could shoot a deer – he was looking to make meat for his house and to be the first of King Boy to shoot a deer. (His older brother drew a doe tag for later in the year, and missed a buck the prior year.)

As we dropped into a small meadow I caught sight of mule deer heads on the horizon. It was one of those awkward moments of being busted by deer and literally having nothing to do but stare right back at them. Then hope they grow horns. One by one the small herd of deer came to the crest of the ridge, caught sight of Cameron and I, and then took a hard left downhill. Thankfully, each deer gave us a clear look at the top of its head. The second to last deer was a small buck, a 3 by 1. It was one of those funky ones that clearly damaged one of its horns while in velvet. But in this management unit, he was a legal buck only because of the damage.

The buck stopped for us, blue sky and nothing else behind him, at about 70 yards. Cameron looked at me for guidance, for permission to shoot. “Why can’t you shoot?” I asked, channeling my inner Socrates. “I can’t see what is behind him” he said with a sigh. “No backstop, no shot” I explained.

The deer herd moved downhill from us, trying to get into a patch of timber. We kept paralleling the herd down the ridge blocking them to one side. Several times the herd would stop at about 150 yards giving a short window for a shot to Cameron. But he could never quite put it together. As soon as he would get set up the herd would move over a ridge, or behind tall sage. The time they allowed us was simply not enough for a ten year old to get an ethical shot.

Eventually, tired of being harassed, the herd made a break for the timber patch. They cut back our direction, dropped down into the valley and started up the other side. Then they made the typical mule deer mistake, they stopped and looked back at us. I looked to Cameron, the deer were now at about 200 yards. About 100 further than I thought he should shoot. “Can you make that shot?” I asked. “No, you shoot him” was his reply.

I chambered a round, shot and the buck fell. I was thankful for the meat and the solid education for the new hunter in the family.

Six day later Cameron and I found ourselves glassing a lone buck, again on a skyline. He walked a ridgeline and showcased his horns a perfect forked horn. But no backstop for the shot. We let him walk down off the ridge but promptly lost sight of him in the dull morning light. Again we paralleled a herd of deer with several small bucks in it. But this time we were on the top of the ridge and they were about midway down the side. Each time we would get set up for a shot the herd would move further than Cameron reliably could shoot. Eventually the herd had enough of us following them and set off down the valley. We lost them in the aspens.


Blue Sky and Sweat on the Camera – He was a trooper

It was a several mile hike back to the truck at this point and the legs on Cameron were a little worn out. But back at the truck we unloaded the four-wheeler and went for a quick ride. Glassing from a ridgeline about a half mile away I caught sight of a lone white butt feeding uphill. It was near the top of the mountain and was going to be a grueling stalk. But the little I know about mule deer biology had me convinced that this solo deer was a buck. I just figured no doe is ever alone – ergo it must be a buck.

Up the hill we went bushwhacking through buckbrush, sage and aspen. We went from 6500 feet to nearly 7100 feet, and Cameron hardly complained. We whisper talked about Pokémon, his recent birthday party and the student council elections that he had organized.

We placed sporadic pines between us and the lone deer, using them as cover for our approach. The higher we climbed the less often we saw the deer, until it was completely out of sight. It had dropped into a small bowl in the side of the hill. Luckily we could see every possible escape route, we would know if it had left the area. We took our time, knowing the deer was still around and not wanting to be winded when it was time to shoot.

On the approach I spotted a small outcropping of rocks jutting out of the buckbrush. I told Cameron that was our shooting location and that we would approach carefully. We slowed our pace to a crawl, watching ridges around us for an escaping deer. Slowly I climbed the rocks, finding the deer and then, thankfully, seeing he was a perfect forked horn. Seventy yards out and not spooked. It might actually happen this time!

Somedays, in the course of a hunter’s life, things are just meant to be. This was one of those days. The little buck held while Cameron scooted around on the rocks for a solid thirty seconds trying to located the buck and get positioned for a shot. He held while I helped to calm the shaking hands of my child, buck fever taking hold in a hilarious but nasty way. Eventually the buck slowly walked to 100 yards, broadside between two junipers and simply held. It was a true blessing when Cameron shot and the buck ran down the hill 70 yards and died. Not 30 yards from where we stood. Cameron had worked for this animal. He had the patience, the judgment and the shooting skill to make meat. Cameron is now a deer hunter.


Cameron’s Buck

Italian Sausage Mac n’ Cheese

In honor of the young hunters and meat makers I offer up a super simple and tasty venison mac and cheese recipe. Cheers to those taking out the next generation and double cheers for the little ones that make it out into the woods!

Italian Sausage

This recipe is a riff on Alton Browns Italian sausage recipe, with the notable exception that it includes venison. This recipe yields five pounds and I will often double it for a big batch – it is great for all sorts of quick and easy Italian sausage needs. Oh, this will work on just about all red meat animals too.

4 lbs Ground Venison

1 lb Ground Pork Fat

1 Tbsp. and 1 tsp. Fennel Seeds

1 Tbsp. and 1 tsp. Kosher Salt

1 Tbsp. Course Ground Black Pepper, fresh

¼ cup Chopped Parsley


In a small heavy bottomed sauté pan toast the fennel seeds on medium heat until they are fragrant. About five minutes. When cool add the fennel to a spice grinder or a mortar and pedestal. (If you don’t have these, a pre ground fennel will work, just add a teaspoon more and don’t toast it) Next mix the remaining ingredients in a large bowl, incorporate them well. Chill the mix in the refrigerator for at least one hour, then divide it into 1 lb balls. Freeze the portioned sausage for use at a later time.


Italian Sausage Mac n’ Cheese


1 lb Italian Sausage, thawed (see above)

2 Tbsp. Flour

1 cup Milk

½ lb Velveeta Cheese, diced

3 cups Whole Wheat Elbow Macaroni, cooked (1.5 cups uncooked)

¼ cup Parmesan

¼ cup Italian Bread Crumbs

1 Tbsp. Chopped Parsley


Pre heat oven to 350°.  Heat a medium sized sauce pan on medium for 3 minutes then add the Italian sausage. Brown and crumble the sausage until fully cooked but retaining some moisture in the pan. Next add the flour and incorporate fully. Next add the milk, reduce heat to low. Bring to a boil and let thicken. When thick add the cheese a small amount at a time, making sure to stir to incorporate the dices fully. Add the noodles to the sauce, fold them gently to incorporate. Transfer noodle and sauce mix to a 3 qt casserole dish. Spread the mix evenly in the pan. Top with Parmesan, bread crumbs and parsley. Bake for 25 minutes. Serve hot.


Mule Deer Mac and Cheese

Bear Ham

bearhamThe berry patch I was walking in had more bear scat in ten square feet than I had seen in the prior several years combined. It was unreal in both quantity and structure – “berries in and berries out” give an apt description of the type and consistency. The scrub brush I was in, aptly named “bear berries”, was flush with fruit. I began to feel nervous – my single shot .410 I had for the grouse opener was not going to be enough for whatever was leaving behind this much scat.

Seeking a better vantage I crawled to the top of a granite boulder. As I glassed the berry patch, looking for trouble and hoping not to find any, I caught a black blob in the distance. “Bear!” I called to my buddy Matt.

“Bear, bear, bear!” I exclaimed, repeating myself like an idiot and like he hadn’t heard me the first time.

Like most of my encounters with bear my vision was that of an ass in the distance running directly away from me. But as the bear ran I noticed two things. First was the speed – I expected that. I have heard for years that bears are fast. But, second, it was the lack of grace that surprised me; the bear reminded me of a fat pug running a 100 meter dash. Give that a moment for the mind’s eye. The fat rolled up and down his sides in a fluid motion – almost seeming to propel him forward in one instance then stretch his skin in another. It was the epitome of a fat fall bear.

Thrilled to have even seen a bear I was soon thinking about all that meat “on the paw” and that I had a bear tag in my pocket. (Left over from a spring bear hunt that amounted to nothing more than a camping trip in the rain) A plan was hatched – back out slow and quite, then come back in a few days and kill this bear. He would be here, the food, the cover and the lack of access nearly guaranteed it.

Two days later a foursome of folks – Matt, my son Noah, Matts daughter Brooklyn and I – made our way up to the berry patch. Matt and Brooklyn would approach from the east. Noah and I would come from the west. The plan was to glass the patch find the bear and see if we could shoot it.

Out hunting for bear I could tell my son was a little nervous. He would not admit it but I think he was a little scared of the idea of bear, not a real bear. I related to him a story about the first time I encountered a bear. I was fifteen years old walking a canyon floor with a buddy during deer season. We rounded a corner and heard the “woof” sound threatened bears make. On our left was a bear standing on her hind legs looking at us. To our right was a trio of cubs. My heart raced and I nearly needed a change of undershorts. We were, essentially, a meat sandwich at that point. We slowly knocked arrows and even more slowly backed out.

The story did not alleviate his fears. Eventually we found a vantage point for glassing the berry patch.

After a few moments of glassing I could see movement in the berry patch not being caused by wind. I focused in on it – waiting for a sign of life. Eventually, I caught a glimpse of black moving in the underbrush. Then I saw a black paw grab a branch full of berries and bring it down – then an ear, a paw, came into view. But never a shot. We had found the bear – now what?

Desperation often causes inspiration. I told my son to whistle. He looked at me with his head cocked to the side “whistle what” he said.

“I am not sure that it matters” I said.

Next thing I knew the creepy four note tune from the Hunger Games was being belted out from next to me. I put my scope on the last patch of black I had seen. Sure enough the bears head appeared then his neck. He was only 70 yards out. I took the shot and the bear disappeared back into the scrub.

I waited a solid five minutes before going into the scrub brush after the bear. As I trudged forward Noah kept falling behind. Before I knew it I was separated from him by a solid 30 yards. “You need to get out of this brush bud” I told him.

“Why?” he asked.

“Because if this bear ain’t dead and it so much as scratched your leg on the way by – I will NEVER live it down with your mother. Just do me a favor and wait until I find him?”

“Kay” he said, suddenly even more nervous.

Eventually I found the bear. Berries falling out of its mouth – it had died gorging itself. That’s how I want to go. He was roughly a six foot bear – a nice size for Idaho. The main issue was just how much he weighed. I eviscerated the bear – making sure to take a look at his liver (spots can be a sign of infection) and hoping to shed a few pounds of the carcass. It was all Matt and I could do to drag the bear out to a road. Eventually we loaded him up in the quad and made our way back to Matt’s cabin.

When I broke the bear down and started skinning it for a run I noticed just how much fat this bear had on him. On his back rump the fat was over three inches thick. He was building a layer for the winter. Fat in wild game is uncommon – I was going to make the best of it.

I rendered the bear fat, like the old timers uses to do. I made bear bacon, I made roasts, I slow cooked the shoulders in BBQ sauce for sandwiches. The highlight, the reason I go back into the woods each fall and spring with a bear tag and my longbow, is bear ham. I use the big muscle groups out of the hind quarters – I brine them for a week, smoke them over apple and then eat grilled cheese and bear ham sandwiches all winter long. They are flat out delicious.

Bear Meat –

The elephant in the room with bear meat is that they almost certainly carry trichinosis. Bear meat causes 90% of the trichinosis cases in the country, simply because it is not cooked enough. Cook your bear past 145 and you are good. Any lower than that and you run the risk of a food borne illness. Not a fun one either.

Popular outdoor writer and TV host Steven Rinella even contracted it off an Alaskan black bear last year. Trichinosis does not fool around, neither should you or I.

Bear Ham

4 quarts hot water – divided

1.5 cups salt

1 cup white sugar

1 cup brown sugar (or honey)

1.5 oz. insta-cure #1

1/2 cup pickling spice

20 crushed garlic cloves

10-15 pounds of bear hind quarter meat, 3-4 pound muscles each


Note: trim the hind loins of as much fat and connective tissue as possible before attempting the recipe. The cleaner the meat going in the better it will be coming out. Also, the recipe can be used on other game animals as well – I do a variation on this recipe for wild turkey breasts and for venison.

Bring 2 quarts water to a boil in a 4 quart sauce pot. Next stir in the salt, sugar, brown sugar and insta-cure #1. All the solid particles should diffuse into the water. Next add the pickling spice and the garlic cloves.

Add the remaining 2 quarts water, cold, to the hot water. This will drop the temperature of the brine. Transfer the mix, now called a brine, to a large plastic container or non-reactive pot. Add the meat to the brine. Let the meat soak for a week in the refrigerator. Make sure that all the meat is submerged. (I often use a plate and a few cans of beans)

Next remove the bear meat from the brine. Pat it dry and let rest on the counter until it comes to room temperature. Then smoke the bear for about 4 hours or until it reaches 145 degrees. If you are not a smoked ham fan simply bake the ham at 375 degrees until 145 degrees.

Reaching this temp is critical with bear meat since it will kill trichinosis.

When cooked let the ham rest until cool before cutting into it. This will help retain the moisture.

It will last in fridge up to a week thawed. It will last for over a year in the freezer. Slice it thin like deli ham, roast whole for a special occasion…basically just eat and enjoy.

Canning Meat – Specifically Rabbit

Confession Time – I shot three jackrabbits on a Sunday, forgot about them in the fridge and got on a plane to Denver. This resulted in a problem. Bless my wife but she sure as heck is not going to gut and skin a rabbit. Nor are my boys, yet. But they could freeze them. As instructed my oldest son grabbed the bag the rabbits were in, and set them in my chest freezer.

And there they stayed for six months. I know, terrible. But the skin actually acted as a protective barrier and kept the meat quite nice. When I did get around to clearing out that part of the freezer I thawed the rabbits for a few days; they were perfect. I was thrilled to get the sizable amount of space the rabbits took up back.

In order to get my freezer “fall ready” I make it a goal to utilize all my scrap from the previous season. I’ll make sausage or jerky or even confit stuff. But this time my goal was to get “camp meat” for the fall. I wanted a “no refrigeration needed” meat that I could haul into the backcountry with me. Something other than jerky. I knew about canning meat, or jarring meat to be more specific, but I had never done it. It requires a pressure canner – something I did not own.

Luckily for me a quick look on craigslist and I came up with an inexpensive pressure canner. The variety I ended up with is a “Victory Model” from World War 2. It is simply amazing. Sure, a new canner would be cool but this old school model was all a guy needs.

With thawed rabbits and a new to me pressure cooker I set out to make meat. First I deboned the rabbits, then I cubed them, then I browned them in hot oil, then I tossed them in “taco” seasoning. Next I added them to jars with a little stock and canned them. It was super easy, I was pleasantly surprised.

As with all preserving – keeping sanitary is a must. Clean hands, clean jars, clean lids – clean everything. With canning, and all preservation really, you are trying to defeat the forces of nature that rot food. A hard project and one that if not done right is downright dangerous.canned rabbit quesodillas

When I was don canning the meat I could not wait to try it out. The next afternoon I opened a jar and made myself a quick quesadilla out of the meat. Unreal, I basically had shredded rabbit meat in a jar ready to eat whenever I am hungry. I am going to be canning meat a lot more in the future.

Canned Rabbit

2# cleaned rabbit meat, diced

¼ cup canola oil

1 packet “taco seasoning”

2 cloves garlic, crushed

½ onion diced

1 cup chicken stock or water

Place a 12 inch heavy bottomed pan on medium heat for 5 minutes. Add half the canola and carefully add the rabbit meat a little at a time. Do not overcrowd the pan, the meat will not brown properly. Add more oil as needed to keep the pan from being dry bottomed. When all the meat is brown add it all back to the pan and toss with taco seasoning. Remove meat from pan to a plate. Add garlic, onion and chicken stock to the pan.

Bring the pan to a boil, scrape the bottom for all the good chunks of brown. This is called “fond” by the way. Remove pan from heat.

Next pack the meat to clean wide mouthed jars. Then add the pan drippings to each jar, distributing them evenly. But make sure to leave at least a ½ inch of head room on the jar. Top each jar with a clean lid and clean ring. Place into pressure canner and process according to manufacturer’s instructions. Be sure to follow all instructions for canning very carefully. canned rabbit

Tasting Wild – The Podcast


The idea of a wild game related podcast had been kicking around in my head for a while. It was just a concept – maybe some guests, maybe some recipes, maybe some tips and tricks. A lot of maybes.

Then I started getting into the idea about two months ago. I wanted to make it happen – so I emailed a fellow wild game inclined dude named Justin from Harvesting Nature. Justin was kind enough to offer a blurb for my book, I wanted to move that relationship forward – I brought up doing a pod cast to him. He then mentioned that another fellow, Jerimiah, was looking at doing a wild game podcast as well. (Great minds think alike?)

Emails, skype and texts flew around for a while. Then wham and bam we had a group of five wild game chefs making a podcast. Tasting Wild was born – and I am stoked to be a part of it.

Like all new projects this will evolve. We will find a groove, a zone and then execute. I can already see improvement from the first podcast to the second. This podcast has legs, it is awesome and will become awesome-er in the future.

Here is the chef lineup for Tasting Wild –

Justin Townsted– Harvesting Nature

Jeremiah Doughty – From Field to Plate

Joel Lickliter – Home Cookin Hunter

John Wallace – Wild Game Creations

Oh, and me…Randy King

Click and listen. It is worthy. I’ll keep posting these too, but please go ahead and subscribe. That will REALLY help us in the long run to make Tasting Wild sustainable. Options for listening below.

Tunein – Tasting Wild

iTunes – Tasting Wild

Stitcher – Tasting Wild

Much love everyone!