"We Got One ..."

So I'm working on this story series for the Morning News about the origins of Thanksgiving.  Part one was on the history of it -- it's not what you think -- and in subsequent parts, I wanted to challenge two of the chefs who do cooking features on the show to cook a period Thanksgiving dinner.

Well, in the days before industrial scale turkey farms, it turns out that the main course was often whatever you could get, and that meant venison was a big part of the typical meal.  But where to get venison for the chefs to work with?

Fortunately, I live in a small town in Southwest Virginia, where deer hunting is more than just a recreation for people; it's a social right of passage and a centerpiece of one's autumn life.  Newcomers quickly learn to not schedule work in November, when just about everyone is to be found in the woods rather than on the job site.  I don't hunt myself (frankly, I don't have the time), but some friends of friends were willing to let me have what I needed for my story.

On Thursday evening we got the call: "We got one!"  Black powder season had just begun, and Travis Patterson had wasted no time getting his first buck.  He wasn't too happy about the rack -- one antler was damaged or stunted; he thought maybe it had caught it on a fence at some point -- but it certainly served my purposes.  So while they patiently accepted my photography and ignorant questions, they dressed the deer and handed over a haunch and both ribs for me to take to the chef.

That's Travis on the right, and his brother Dennis on the left.  Bryce Patterson, 13, Dennis' son is in the middle.  Not long before, Bryce had gotten his own deer in bow season, shooting it within 15 minutes of going out ... to the annoyance and amusement of the adults.

Bryce holds the front hooves to keep the legs out of the way while the others work underneath the shoulder.

The light shines through the hole where the bullet -- a .50 caliber, Travis said -- hit.

Dennis works to provide me with the cuts I needed.  In the end, there is little that goes to waste.  Travis speculated that, rather than mounting the imperfect head, he might have it stripped to a skull trophy.