GAME TERRINE

Freeing up room in the freezers means going over ziploc'd bags of parts and parts of parts. A matter of minutes and chopping block's loaded with venison backstraps, heart, liver; wood duck and mallard breasts, hearts and livers, and a slab of frozen pork shoulder from a pig processor in Alma, Georgia.

Thawed and ready, the wrist torture begins. Chop. Chop. Chop. I wanted a more "rustic" terrine this time, and made a point of chopping straps and breasts with a rougher cut. Minced the pork, which acts as the forcemeat, and kept the hearts and livers as whole as possible.

Mounded meat and watered with kirschwasser. Seasoned with ground juniper, allspice, thyme, savory, salt, black pepper, a wisp of cayenne. Lined loaf pan with bacon strips and smoothed the meat mixture into the pan. Gave it a shake, and then into a water bath at 340 degrees for an hour. Rested, cooled, and covered in quarter inch of snow white fat, it was ready for slicing.

Ingredients are practically indiscernable by hue. But flavors are fucking fantastic. Livers meld. Heart tastes like pot roast perfection. Backstrap trumps filet every single time. Many ascribe "earthiness" to food who know nothing of the ground said food grew upon. To know "earthy" is to sit in stand or swamp. To traverse hills and muck through fields. To witch four-legged beast and turn them into feast. Furthermore, there's the base of "earthiness." And it's an unmistakable blot of blood in each bite.

Another bite. Something metallic. Ah. Yeah. Remember the hunt? That freezing December morning even the union suit refused to warm. Shooting light still seeming too dark and then guns booming and the smell of gunpowder as thick in the air as the swamp's sulfur. Feathers falling on the heels of a five a.m. sleet. And then steel shot pellets, months and months later, between the teeth (said pellet on plate in photo 2).

Made a lot of terrines. This may be my favorite one. Flavors just "work." And, moreover, this one came together with a "feel." I didn't even want to consult Elizabeth David or Jane Grigson. So they stayed on the shelf.