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Jim Casada Outdoors
September 2013 Newsletter
Click here to view this newsletter in a .pdf with a white background for easy
printing.
Quotation of the Month
“Deep in the guts of most men is buried the involuntary response to the
hunter’s horn, a prickle of the nape hairs, an acceleration of the
pulse, an atavistic memory of his fathers, who killed first with stone,
and then with club, and then with spear, and then with bow, and then
with gun, and finally with formulae.”
Robert Ruark, Horn of the Hunter.
I am a great admirer of Ruark (as a writer, not a person; he was a
miserable human being in many ways) and as some of you will know I have
done considerable writing and research on his life. The above quotation
cuts to the heart of man’s hunting instinct, although I strongly
disagree on the closing statement “and finally with formulae.” I have
ongoing reservations about our over-reliance on technology at the
expense of good old-fashioned feet in the woods, hours in the field, and
sound woodsmanship. But them I’m old, old-fashioned, hard-headed, and as
Grandpa Joe would have said, “sot in my ways.” I don’t own a cell phone,
have never used a trail camera, care little for gimmicks, and am
generally, as a hunter, what might be described as a minimalist. I like
to keep things simple.
Sweet September
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One of my favorite writers as a boy growing up in the Smokies,
and this continued to be the case well into manhood, was a
columnist for the Asheville Citizen-Times by the name of
John Parris. His column, “Roaming the Mountains,” appeared two
or three times a week and was an absolute gold mine of mountain
lore, character sketches, traditions, and the like. Parris also
was the author of a number of books, and most of them comprise
selections of his newspaper columns. They include Roaming the
Mountains; My Mountains, My People; Mountain Cooking; Mountain
Bred; and These Storied Mountains. All make
delightful reading, at least for anyone interested in the
southern Appalachians, and the volume devoted to cooking
contains scores of scrumptious recipes.
A favorite literary device for Parris involved taking a season
of the year and then, in a long series of nicely phrased
snippets, capturing its flavor and flair. All would begin with
phrases such as “September is,” “It is,” or “Early fall is.”
While I make no pretense of even approaching his way with words,
I thought it might be interesting to adopt his style for this
month’s newsletter. With that in mind, here’s an attempt to
capture some of the essence of September as I have known it,
with much of what follows tracing back to a Smoky Mountain
boyhood.
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September sings a mighty sweet song, with katydids leading
the chorus.
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September is dust devils dancing across just plowed fields
awaiting plantings of winter wheat or oats.
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It’s doves winging their way across harvested fields of corn
as hunters celebrate the return of a timeless ritual with
shots and cries of “mark right,” “coming behind you,” or
“low bird.”
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It’s Joe Pye weed blooming at field edges and along branch
banks.
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It’s persimmons showing hints of gold and providing visual
promise of tasty puddings in a few weeks.
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September is the first hint of colors coming to the
woodlands as sumac and dogwoods show red while gold creeps
into the leaves of maples, poplars and hickories.
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It’s a squirrel barking high on a ridge and reminder hunters
that bushytail season will soon arrive.
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This Month's Special
Since the
quotation comes from Ruark, I’m offering Ruark Remembered
as this month’s special. It is $30 postpaid.
Written by Alan
Ritchie, who was Ruark’s secretary for the final decade-plus of
his life, the manuscript languished in forgotten obscurity for
well over a quarter of a century after Ruark’s death. It is
revealing, intensely interesting, although I would warn that the
man who emerges was not someone who was necessarily likable.
I edited the
book, did a lot of “get it into shape for publication” work, and
added various material to improve Ritchie’s effort.
Order by
clicking below
using PayPal or pay by check to Jim Casada, 1250 Yorkdale Drive,
Rock Hill, SC 29730.
Tel.: 803-329-4354
E-mail: jc@jimcasadaoutdoors.com
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It’s hazelnut husks opening to reveal tasty treats.
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It’s huckleberries and blueberries ripening on high balds
and in areas of old fire scalds.
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It’s the occasional chestnut tree grown big enough to bear
mast while reminding us of a woodland world we have lost.
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September is cardinal flowers and wild asters, puddling
tiger swallowtails and migrating monarch butterflies.
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It’s a time to begin fattening hogs in anticipation of frost
and killing time.
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It’s harvesting honey from lovingly tended hives and looking
at a crop of cane knowing that molasses makin’ time isn’t
far off.
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September is the first hint of coolness in the air, with the
bluebird days and crisp nights of Indian Summer putting pep
in the step of old-timers.
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It’s shelling crowder peas and pickling okra; making soup
mix and canning apples; drying Indian peaches and putting up
soup mix.
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It’s ground cherries lying golden yellow in a field of
Hickory King corn and a boy yelping in pain from an
encounter with a packsaddle in that corn field.
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It’s gritted bread and a pot of green beans cooked with
streaked meat; trout in the frying pan and recent plantings
of turnip greens popping up after a good shower.
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September is an old man enjoying the cool which comes with
the gloaming while sharing tales of younger days with his
grandchildren.
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Recent and Upcoming Doin’s
This monthly newsletter
was recently mentioned as a good example of a way to keep up with
mountain days and ways of yesteryear in Rob Neufeld’s The Read on Western North Carolina.
I’ll have a piece on a
forgotten wingshooting author from yesteryear, Horatio Bigelow, in the
next issue of a dandy magazine, Covey Rise.
My profile of noted
grouse writer George Bird Evans will appear in an anthology offering
selections from the writings of great figures in the literature of the
sport, together with profiles of them, scheduled out in October. I’ll
let you know more when the book appears.
October will find Ann
and I headed to Lake Charles, LA for the annual conference of the
Southeastern Outdoor Press Association. We are driving, which more than
anything else is a testament to how much I detest flying and the
despicable attention of the collection of buffoons who seem to form most
of the work force of the TSA. We’ll make a leisurely progress going and
coming, and it’s always a pure joy to see lots of old and cherished
friends, get some inspiration, hear some great pickin’ and singin’ (the
organization has an incredible number of talented musicians), and in the
case of this year, sample and savor Cajun hospitality at its finest.
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It’s back to school and a fond farewell to summer’s barefoot
days.
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It’s the wonderful aroma of newly turned soil as sweet
potatoes are dug for curing and storing.
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It’s pumpkins turning gold amongst cornstalks adorned by
finished ears; candy roasters waiting to be stored and hulls
of October beans turning from green to brown.
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It’s a fishing crazy youngster braving those brethren of
Beelzebub, yellow jackets, to get bait for a final summer’s
angling adventure.
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It’s savoring a late-season watermelon in the afternoon
shade after working in the field.
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September is looking with pride at row upon row of quart
Ball jars containing the goodness of summer.
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It’s strings of fiery red peppers, strung and drying in a
barn loft beneath a roof of tin.
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It’s strung green beans spread atop muslin or screen wire
atop that same barn roof drying to make leather britches.
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It’s dried peaches and apples bearing aromatic promise of
fried pies and stack cakes in the cold days of coming
winter.
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It’s corn in the crib and apples in the cellar; cider fresh
from the press and the making of hominy the old-fashioned
way.
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September is a noble whitetail buck feeling the first urges
of procreation as a cold front brings a nip to the air and a
bit more zest for life to the deer.
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It’s the last of the year’s homecomings and a final round of
decorating and cleaning family cemeteries.
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It’s getting in the cool weather crops—turnips and mustard,
cabbage and kale, collards and lettuce—even as the last of
the warm weather ones are harvested.
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It’s fox grapes ripening on vines along a cool spring
branch, with their fragrance filling the air with a heady
reminder of just what a chunk of home-churned butter and a
spoonful of jelly from the grapes can do to turn a cathead
biscuit from ordinary to exquisite.
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It’s a mountain boy roaming in the gloaming, thinking about
the joys of fishing in the waning summer even as he dreams
of those associated with hunting in the months to come. If
perchance his steps lead him by a graveyard in the gathering
dusk, whistling a cheery tune will surely keep the haints
away or at least at bay.
Doves in droves on power lines is a tell-tale sign
of a good place for a shoot come opening day.
September is sweet in so many ways, for it marks the end of
another cycle of the seasons, another crop year come to an end.
Most of all though, when September arrives you know October,
when the harvest moon glows and the hunter’s horn blows, lies
just around the corner.
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RECIPES
As a boy, September was a time for enjoying pretty much the last of the
summer’s vegetables—nubbins of late roastin’ ears, tommytoes which
always seemed to last longer than their larger cousins, crowder peas,
okra (which seemed to do best in the heat of dog days) and of course
various types of melons. We didn’t have a freezer so the progress of the
season was marked by the number of Mason and Ball quart jars lining the
shelves Daddy had built in the cool basement, much of which the two of
us dug by hand, the apples harvested and carefully culled and stored at
month’s end, and making sure all of the previous year’s canning had been
used.
Things have changed immeasurably since then, but early autumn is still a
“cleaning out” time when it comes to food, especially venison and other
wild game. If there’s any left it’s time for meat pies, gifts to the
food pantry, or other measures designed to free up shelf space. With
that in mind, and given the fact that recently a friend asked the missus
for suggestions for venison pies, this month’s offerings suggest ways of
using ground deer meat to good and tasty advantage.
SHEPHERD’S PIE
2 cans green beans, drained
1 pound ground venison
1 onion, finely chopped
1 cup chopped mushrooms (optional)
1 large can tomato sauce
1 pound cooked mashed potatoes (THE REAL THING—a plague on the paltry
powdered substitutes), and leftovers work just fine
1 cup grated cheddar cheese
Salt and pepper to taste
Brown ground venison with onions and mushrooms. Drain if necessary. Add
tomato sauce and seasonings to ground venison.
In a deep baking dish layer green beans, ground venison and tomato sauce
mixture; top with mashed potatoes and sprinkle grated cheese on top.
Bake at 350 degrees for about 30 minutes or until heated through.
DEEP DISH POTATO AND VENISON PIE
Pastry for double-crust pie
1 cup grated, peeled potatoes
¼ cup chopped celery
½ cup grated carrots
¼ cup chopped leeks
2 teaspoons Worcestershire sauce
1 teaspoon A-1 Steak Sauce
1 teaspoon dried Italian seasoning
¼ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
Salt to taste
1 pound uncooked ground venison
Place bottom crust in 9-inch deep-dish pie plate. Mix all other
ingredients and place in pie crust. Place top crust on pie and seal
edges. Cut vents in top pastry. Bake at 375 degrees for 15 minutes.
Reduce heat to 350 degrees and bake for another 55 minutes to an hour.
This pie is hearty; however, it is dry and needs to be served with a
sauce. Here’s a mushroom sauce which we like.
MUSHROOM SAUCE
2 tablespoons margarine or butter
¼ cup sliced leeks
2 cups sliced fresh mushrooms
2 tablespoons flour
1 cup half-and-half
Salt and pepper to taste
Melt margarine and sauté leeks and mushrooms until tender. Sprinkle with
flour and cook about a minute. Add half-and-half and seasonings.
Continue cooking until sauce thickens. Stir constantly. Serve over pie
slices.
CHEESEBURGER PIE
1 pound ground venison
½ cup evaporated milk
½ cup ketchup
1/3 cup fine dry bread crumbs
¼ cup chopped onion
½ teaspoon dried oregano
1 cup sharp cheddar cheese, shredded
1 teaspoon Worcestershire Sauce
1 8-inch prepared pie shell
Combine ground venison, milk, ketchup, bread crumbs, onion, and oregano.
Season to taste with salt and pepper. Prepare pastry to line one 8-inch
pie plate or use a prepared shell. Fill with venison mixture. Bake at
350 degrees for 35 to 40 minutes. Toss cheese with Worcestershire Sauce
and sprinkle on top of pie. Bake 10 more minutes and let stand 10
minutes before serving.
This is one of my favorite venison dishes, and I like extra sharp
cheddar.
TAMALE PIE
1 ½ pounds ground venison
1 package taco seasoning
1 small can (8 ounces) tomato sauce
1 or 2 cans sliced black olives
1 package (8 ounces) grated cheddar cheese
1 package (8 ounces) Monterey Jack or mozzarella cheese
1 package small flour tortillas
Green chilies or slices of fresh jalapeno pepper if you like it hot
Brown venison in skillet; once browned add taco seasoning and tomato
sauce.
Place tortilla in bottom of round baking dish. Sprinkle with meat,
cheese, and olives. Repeat this process until you have three or four
layers of tortillas, being sure to end with cheese.
Bake in pre-heated 350 degree oven for 30 minutes or until hot and
cheese is slightly brown.
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Thank you for subscribing to the
Jim Casada Outdoors
newsletter.
Feel free to contact Jim with your comments, questions
or suggestions at jc@jimcasadaoutdoors.com.
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