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"Oh, give me a home, where the buffalo roam, where the deer and the antelope play . . . " ~ Brewster M. Higley.


Today's uniform.

How do you like my bear slippers?

Just for you, I'm wearing my special Kellogg's breakfast cereal pajamas. I wanted you to feel all safe and cozy before I introduced today's real topic:

WILD ANIMALS!

Mmmmwwaaahhahahahahaa!!

GRRRROWL!! RRRRROARRR!!!!

I tell you those Frosted Flakes really pack a punch.

Actually, the real real topic is EATING WILD ANIMALS. Uh-huh. Last week, I ate buffalo meat for the first time.
 
*pauses for stunned reaction from audience*

I'm not talking about those itty bitty buffalo wing appetizers either. I'm talkin' furry-behemoth-roaming-the-Great-Plains-on-rare-nickels kind of buffalo. Yes, I seared and slow-cooked a genuine-for-real buffalo roast beast!


photo by Tony Eindfeldt.

And I really didn't want to. Len brought it home by mistake. I sent him to the South Dakota plains Whole Foods for a beef pot roast. But it was clear from the price sticker it was no such thing. Thinking the butcher may have mislabeled it, I carefully unwrapped the mystery meat. It had already bled through the paper into the plastic bag, and when I saw the dense, large grained, dark bloody red slab I knew this roast was from out of town. It was slimy like liver (which I hate). There was little fat (a good thing, but would it be tough?) -- and I considered throwing it outside for our fox.

But -- my foodie sense of adventure prompted me to investigate further. So where does a sensible recluse go for advice?

        
            Buffalo Bacon Burger by ladybutcher.

Facebook, of course. I posed these questions to my friends: "Should I eat this thing? Have you ever eaten buffalo?" I'll be danged if quite a few closet buffalo buffs didn't come out of the meat locker in its defense. It was leaner than beef, and more nutritious, they said (high in iron and protein). Buffalo doesn't contain any growth hormones (against Federal law). "I once used ground buffalo in a spaghetti sauce, and no one could tell the diff" (thanks, Sara).

Well, that was encouraging. But I did note -- all these well wishers had eaten ground buffalo, mostly in burgers. No one had eaten a whole roast. I knew it was up to me to blaze a new trail, so I stepped up to the crock pot, smothered Buffalo Bill with veggies, and doused him with red wine. Six hours later, Bill came out tender and juicy. He looked like beef. He tasted like beef. But I still didn't feel comfortable eating him.

By then, we had bonded. And I remembered Lt. John Dunbar, Two Socks, and the great buffalo hunt. When I first saw Bill in the raw, he looked like that drippy, bloody heart Kicking