Best Eating Waterfowl - Pacific Black Brant

Somewhere between second and third helpings of dinner last week, the Swamp Warlock, aka Jim Crews, and I intently deliberated whether Pacific Black Brant is possibly superior to South America's rosy-billed pochard as tablefare, which we'd long-since agreed was the best we'd ever had.  It was hard to take each other too seriously as we talked with our mouths full.

I've previously hunted Atlantic Brant in Rhode Island.  And because they seem to be widely regarded by many northastern seaboard waterfowlers as very poorly tasting (though formerly prized by market gunners), I've had no serious inclinations to shoot them at all after adding a beautiful pair to the game room.  I have no aversion to eating ducks and geese; we eat lots of them at camp and home.  Pot-roasted green-wings, smoked white-fronts, grilled poppers, blue-wing chicken fried tenders, and orange-maple mallards are favorites.  But when I learned that we'd be eating plenty while Hunting Pacific Brant in Cold Bay Alaska, I chalked it up to the roughing it part of the Alaskan bush experience.  I could not possibly have been more pleasantly surprised; Pacific Brant are absolutely delicious.  Likely the best-eating waterfowl in the world.

Pacific Brant feed almost exclusively on marine eelgrass, a perennial seagrass with long, beautiful, bright green, ribbon-like leaves, that flourishes in shallow estuaries.  Izembek Lagoon, which is part of Izembek National Wildlife Refuge, has one of the largest remaining eelgrass beds in the world.  Many square miles of eelgrass lay bare at low tide, and it's relished by voracious flocks of migrating Pacific Black Brant, as well as the Eurasian and American Wigeons that are proliferate to the area.  Once abundant in Barnegat Bay, New Jersey, and other northeastern US estuaries, an estimated 90% of the Atlantic coastline's eelgrass beds are gone, and this surely correlates to the poor palatability of Atlantic Brant.

Grilled Pacific Black Brant

Our Cold Bay, Alaska Pacific Brant hunting guides demonstrate that simple is surely best.  Allowing two brant's worth per hungry adult hunter, place in ziplock bag and marinade Pacific Brant breasts overnight in a solution of olive oil (or vegetable oil), garlic powder, and your favorite seasoning (we used cajun seasoning, but anything agreeable to your palate will work perfectly).  Place the breasts on the grill over high heat, cooking for a couple of minutes each side.  The meat is best cooked rare, no more than medium rare.  Remove from heat and serve immediately.

Tammy's Disappearing Jalapeño Poppers Recipe

Beyond the duck blinds, some of the best times to be had at duck camp are around the dinner table, or anywhere like-minded hunters gather to eat, drink and socialize.  Where shooting warms the gun barrels, good food and fellowship warms the spirit, regardless of whether the ducks cooperated!

The following recipe was given to me by Tammy W. F.  Among the oldest of friends, I've know Tammy since middle school and she's one of the best natural-born cooks you'll ever meet.  She came by it naturally, too: 30-something years ago, the best collection of hunting trophies within walking distance of my house hung on the stone fireplace in her family's home.  I've taken the small liberty of adding marinaded teal or dove to her recipe, but it's not necessary.  They'll dissappear just as quickly without.  Tammy's Jalapeno Poppers became instantly popular at our home, and among local duck hunting circles, most recently at the 8th Annual DuckSouth.com Teal Hunt.

Donia's Boudin Stuffed Mushrooms Recipe

The term boudin in this part of the world commonly implies boudin blanc (rice and pork), but may also mean boudin with crawfish, crab, shrimp, and rice. Most of Louisiana's cajun's do not consider boudin a sausage, but it is cased like sausage. White pepper, green onions and cayenne seem to be prevalent ingredients. Boudin is readily available most readily in southern Louisiana, particularly in the Lafayette and Lake Charles area, though it may be found nearly anywhere in Cajun Country, including eastern Texas.  Boudin is sold from convenience stores along Interstate 10 to restaurants dedicated to it, and recipes vary.  Boudin, jambalaya, gumbo, étouffée, and dirty rice are among the greatest culinary masterpieces from which southern humanity has benefitted thanks to Louisana.

The Annual Ducksouth.com Teal Hunt has evolved through time into an invite-only, potluck dinner and social the night before.  Friends from as many as 5 states convene at Willow Break lodge in Mississippi's South Delta to share their favorite hunting camp recipes, drink and swap stories early into the morning.  A few actually get up to hunt teal, but the event is not about actual hunting; it's about everything else that makes hunting camp, times with hunting friends, the absolute best of times.

Rick Daughtry, President of the West Mississippi Hunting Retriever Club in Vicksburg, Mississippi, has attended most of the annual teal socials.  He gets together a few times a year with close hunting buddies for beer drinking and boudin making, and his private-reserve boudin is an event staple.  Like Bibles in church. Like black dogs in duck blinds.  The amount of cayenne in Rick's boudin, we think, is directly proportional to

Sufferin’ Bastard

Sufferin' Bastard by Gil Jackson

An old River Boat Captain on the Mississippi,  Grady Forkum, gave me this recipe many years ago.  I have taken it to all corners of North America on hunting trips; it was very popular at Nash Buckingham's old Beaver Dam Club. It's not moonshine.  It's legal, and easy to prepare if you know what to look for and how to blend it. Three simple ingredients mixed in proper proportion creates this heavenly libation. Here is a passage from an old story I wrote that has the recipe:

Several years ago the Banker and I had become unwitting squires to an old retired waterman.  The Capt'n had been a pilot on the Mississippi River for better than forty years , living a duel life as husband and father between three month stints pushing trade to the delta.  All those long months away from home were hard on the Capt'n, but not without its fair share of rewards.  One of those rewards was being keeper of the key to the vessel's medicine box, and one of the most significant things stored within that box was known by all on board as "Sufferin' Bastard".  It was so named because a crewmen had to be near death for the Capt'n to allow him to partake of it's uncanny healing powers.

The Capt'n passed on his secret to the Banker and I only after we had performed a few chores about his house and barn. It was a matter of fair market value that one should only receive such a time honored formula within the framework of a true southern horse trade.  Once we had fulfilled our commitment to the Capt'n he gave us "THE RECIPE".

He paused for a moment to gather his thoughts before describing his creation. "Men, first off you got to be patient."  Don't rush things 'cause timing is everything.  Do the sweet stuff first, followed by the spicy stuff, then lastly, and most importantly, you gotta' light the fire in it.  Now, if you do exactly as you're instructed you'll find yourself with a gift from The River Gods." The way he started out I couldn't help but ask if he was describing his famous river tonic or his wedding night.  His tone changed to austere when he saw my mind drifting and brought the bow about.  He was in no mood for levity.  After all, you don't want to disclose your trademarked cure-all in a careless manner.

"Look here guys," he said.  "When I'm talking 'bout the sweet stuff, it consists of eight ounces of Grade A clover honey.  The spicy stuff is nothing more than three or four long cinnamon sticks, and the fire in this concoction is one quart of fine bourbon with Kentucky somewhere on its label. It takes a spell for the cinnamon and honey to blend properly with Kentucky's finest export, but once the right ingredients, in due proportion, have been given the time so well deserved, there is hardly an ailment known to mankind that can't be treated. "

I assured the Capt'n that I knew a good bit about Kentucky's artistry with hardwood barrels, and one of my cousins was a bee keeper.  After displaying favor in my response, he continued.

Next he told us to place the ambrosial ingredients in a glass jug, secure the elixir with a tight seal, shake violently for a couple of minutes, then store it in a cool dry place for a year.  At the end of the allotted time open the jug and strain the heavenly libation through cheese cloth to remove any residual wax and what's left of the cinnamon sticks.  The remaining sum total of your efforts will astound your friends and free your tongues for praise when served at room temperature or as a "Hot Christmas Toddy". He finished by saying, " This is for sippin' not drinkin' but if you choose the latter be forewarned it has made grown men run rabbits, and the fairest ladies to loose their resolve."

Capt'n has been gone for many years now, but his river boat elixir has traveled with me far and wide.  Canada to Mexico … Beaver Dam Lake to Reelfoot Lake …. Chesapeake to the prairies of Arkansas , and places in between. I hope the Capt'n is lookin' down smiling every time he sees me start a fresh batch blending.

Ramsey Russell's GetDucks.com