The meat sizzled and popped on the smoking hot cast iron pan
and the last of the red juices seeped through brown crust on the outside of the
bite-sized fillet. I stabbed the
chunk with the tip of my knife, smeared it through the olive oil in the pan,
sprinkled it with salt and pepper, and then I popped my first taste of American
coot in my mouth. As far as flavor is concerned, coots (aka mud
hens) are viewed as bottom-tier waterfowl. They are usually considered to be
worthless for much beyond dog food.
As I chewed my bite, I determined the people who established coot’s
culinary status must have been afraid to taste them, because it was tasty. I thought as I was cleaning the bird
that the meat looked more the color of mallard, or even beef, than the dark red
of goldeneye or bufflehead.
Additionally, the meat had the texture of venison tenderloin. Until I saw this, I figured the meat
was headed for the sausage pile, destined to be a novelty for one of my
adventurous dinner guests. Now I
am curious, ready to increase my sample size above one. Emily liked it too, said it was as
almost as good as puddle duck, but she reminded me not to get too carried away
– maybe it was just one particularly tasty individual.
I am not ready to drive the bandwagon for a coot Carpaccio
revolution, but I am pretty convinced I may have stumbled upon an interesting
new meat harvest opportunity. This
morning, at a holiday family gathering, my Grandpa asked me “what the heck did
you shoot a coot for?” The answer
was “by accident!” I was
jump-shooting ducks while on a hunt with my Pop, and this coot was collateral
damage. Not that I was
disappointed, I mentioned I was interested in harvesting a coot or two that
morning as we boated to our hunting spot.
Needless to say, I didn’t hesitate when I saw a few coots in close
proximity to my primary target, a drake bufflehead duck.
This would be the part where a mallard snob would say, “who
is this guy, nobody eats coots and buffleheads.” Hey, that is how HHMM rolls! I figure most all meats are good, so long as they are
properly prepared. I like to think these kinds of meats have potential as
ingredients and seasoning as much as I think of them as a main event. For example, perhaps the tastiest
homemade kielbasa sausage I have ever eaten was partially concocted from
goldeneye by my Helena duck hunting buddy, Paul. I am also particularly fond of cured and lightly smoked
goldeneye, served medium rare with a spot of Chinese mustard and sesame
seeds. Strongly flavored meats are
excellent in sausages and terrines, and even in stuffing, where these flavors
are welcomed and accentuated.
Liver is a delicacy to some and disgusting to others, and which side
people fall on may largely depend on the preparation and presentation when they
first dined on the meat. Diver
duck meat is much the same.
Yesterday’s hunt was a good start to my duck hunting year. As is typical for my Pop and me, we
were set up an hour late, and in the wrong spot for where the birds wanted to
be, and it took us 55 shotgun shells to reduce eight birds to possession
(including the coot). We don’t
have a fancy duck boat, or a secret spot to hunt loaded with mallards, but we
hunt one of the most beautiful spots in Idaho. We should harvest more ducks, but we still get a few. The quality of our shooting does seem
to decline with the size and desirability of the birds; I can’t seem to hit a
goose to save my life. My dog,
Jocko, is young, needs confidence, and he should get more training than I have
time to give him. But, hey! he made a few decent retrieves, was reasonably
well-behaved in the blind, and he enjoyed the hunt as much as I did. In short, we aren’t the best duck
hunters, but we sure have a good time, and I sure enjoy eating their meat. Can’t buy anything like it in the stores,
gotta do it yourself.
Jocko and his most picturesque retrieve.
A successful day. Interesting meats for the freezer.
The raw beauty of hunting ducks.
