Chew on This

Ever since I was a little kid there has been a place in my heart, and belly, for the chewy goodness of beef jerky. Whether it was the simple stuff in the plastic zip-locks at the grocery store or the clever use of the scraps they used for the shredded jerky that they packaged into the "chewing tobacco" dip cans found on the counters of gas stations across Illinois, I gobbled it up. Even at a young age I appreciated the history of salting and drying meat to save for later. While I personally never had to worry about storing the meat from a whole buffalo during a long and arduous journey, the lore of it intrigued me. And so did the taste. Until the late 90s I had only ever had a beef jerky. But while living in hunter-central Wisconsin I had my first venison jerky and loved the mild gaminess of it. Unfortunately I haven't had it since.

There was a turning point for me earlier in that decade when I found a jerky recipe in the "How To" section of a Maxim Magazine. I had never considered that it could be made at home. I guess I bought into that "slabs of meat drying in the plains over a wooden rack" idea a little too much. Thanks Jack Link. But the idea was exciting and frugal for me. I could make this stuff at home and not have to pay a ridiculous amount of money for such little product. So before I knew it I was making the good stuff a couple times a year, and it never lasted long. Not because it spoiled, but because I devoured it! I remember it being a combination of soy sauce, worcestershire sauce, sugar and hickory liquid smoke (and of course a couple other little things). It was oven dried at the lowest setting over night. I don't recall what cut it called for in the recipe, but it ended up being only slightly cheaper than buying the stuff in the bag. But like we often feel when we create something delicious, I did it myself!