Venison Jerky

Life in Kickapoo Center at the turn of the Century
To wear the coveted chef's hat
called a toque a chef has to be able to prepare eggs 101 ways. Therefore a toque has 101 creases. This chef's hat is not white. There are no creases, just pleats. I'm preparing for my imaginary TV show called "Jerk Cooking" or "The Jerk in the kitchen:Uncle Bob."

Bulldog leaves a message on the hidden answer board next to the payphone. "Psst, I got venison," it says. I travel to Wal-Mart to pick up ingredients. An hour later, I've spent $111. I needed that small Wearever sauce pan. There's more white sale T-shirts. I find ribs marked down to $1.40 per pound. Lord, I don't remember some of the things I purchased. In my defense I turned down the guacamole. It was $4 for the prepared package and a buck a piece for fresh avocados. I remember now that I forgot something. What it was, I don't remember.

One venison roast weighs 3.5 pounds. It looks like a small white basketball. I unwrap it, noting the date it was frozen. The hunter was smart to pre-wrap it in plastic. No freezer burn. My slicer has a full tank of gas and a new saw blade. I've oiled all the gears. It groans as I cut through the roast. I set the slicer to a little left of thin. I have pieces of venison as large as pie plates. "Wow!" I exclaim to nobody. The cat is outside stalking birds.
What you see is one half of the mountain of meat. Pay attention here, because I'll divulge my recipe for jerk in Uncle Bob's the kitchen. If you send money I'll send shots of naked venison.

To backtrack a bit, we have a groaning slicer. Mounds of thin sliced venison on two dinner plates, a counter top at right with various measuring cups, bottles of soy sauce, Worcestershire, dark brown sugar, cooking sherry and a plastic tablespoon. It is important to get the venison in the marinade before the meat defrosts and turns to limp, thin slices that fall apart. Oh, I forgot to mention the most important culinary device. See the blue pan to the right of the old fashioned scale? It is a special marinade pan and probably one of many sources of embarrassment.

My wife sends in those Publisher's Clearing House contest blanks. Every once and a while she'll order something to keep her name on the mailing list. The mole repellent devices I laughed at silently. They look like a giant blunt metal fountain pen. Two "D" cell batteries make it emit a buzzing sound on a repetitive basis. I have pushed those 2 green posts all over the front lawn. Moles run from them. I've heard them say, "Run for your life it's the buzzer. Oh nooooo!" The marinade pan has a nubbed bottom and top. It allows the marinade to freely move through the selected meat or poultry. It has a tight seal and can be flipped over. Tonight, before retiring I'll flip the jerky mix. After 24 hours in the refrigerator, longer if you have a bad memeory I'll line the shelves of the EXCALIBER .That's my baby. In reality it belongs to my wife. It was one of my more romantic presents. What the hay, her birthday falls three days before Christmas. I get desperate.

So the sink is a mess. There's a mountain of dishes to wash. The recipe you ask? This is version #3. That's version not venison. Wal-Mart soy sauce, Worcestershire sauce (gee I'm glad they invented spell checkers) dark brown sugar, cooking sherry, Louisiana hot sauce, paprika and coarse black pepper. When it hits the dehydrator shelves I'll dust with cayenne for a little zing. How much zing, other quantities-send me money. I'll leave out the naked venison shots.