Road Kill

I waited just the right amount of time to disclose this secret.  I am not going to be like Granny of The Beverly Hillbillies fame and tell you right off.  I will savor the moment and slowly determine just the right timing for a tell-all, confidential admission.  My consort loves hunting and we do serve lovely marinated vension backstrap from time to time.  Plus, every now and then, when you say, “This has to be Stephen’s vension.  It is so good.  I never knew I liked vension so much ’til I came to your house.  Goodness.  I wish my husband cooked this good.”  Hold on. Deep breath. Well, I need to fess up. Once in a blue moon, it is Road kill. Honey, it’s not posssum or armadillo, but Stephen did not shoot it.  It was hit by a car.

This time it happened in Vernonberg, a township in Savannah that is it’s own municipality (like Thunderbolt).  Late one night, on a drive home, a friend of ours hit a little doe when it ran right out in front of him .  Deer will do that. Really messed up his old beat-up whatever-car that he probably needs to replace.  If it had been a big deer, it could have put him in the hospital or even killed him.  Then serving the vension would have been in horribly bad taste.

Thankfully, it was a small deer, so he calls a neighbor and says, “Hey. I just hit a deer.  You want it?” The guy says he would be right over. Lucky thing. It was a sizable enough deer not to want to waste, so he fixed it right up, on the spot and brought some of the meat to my husband ’cause hunters share like that, (even road kill.)

After work, my husband comes home with this freshly butchered venison that his friend has shared with him. He tells me what happened and nobody was hurt and “Oh boy, these hams are sweet, tender meat and will grill up nicely. ” No matter.  I just could not stop laughing when I thought about the fun opportunity ahead of me, should I take advantage of it.  Would I intentionally avoid or spare potential diners the shock? Maybe shock is a harsh word. The concern. Or would I tell ‘em?  ”Yes,” I could say. “Honey, it is his grilled vension. ‘Cept I think you ought to know, some of it is road kill.  Hummm.  I wonder if it’s bad luck to eat deer that was hit by a car? ” I would muse to myself. “You know? I guess not. I just bet it’s good luck since the driver was not injured. Well, eat up.  We got more ready to come off the grill. Sure is good.”  (We serve grilled backstrap with bisquits, horseradish sauce and a sweet-hot apricot, chipotle jam-like stuff.)

Just so you know, we also like ground vension, so on spaghetti night, be forewarned. Look. It really is OK! Promise. I absolutely know that it didn’t lay on the side of the road for too long!  All that would be way too unpleasant.

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