Another hunting season approaches and for this we give thanks and praise.
In 2007, I had my best dove season ever. A weekend ago, I went to the beer fridge, which doubles as the wild game freezer, and fished out the last of the dove breasts. They had kept quite well, being frozen in water.
Into the standard marinade they went, the base ingredient being apricot jam watered down (if you will pardon the expression) with a touch of hooch, a dappling of olive oil and whatever seasoning you want to throw in. This time I used a sprinkle of garlic salt.
The idea is to get the mix juicy enough so that it surrounds the dove breasts.
Combined with a sliver of red bell pepper (they were on sale at Food Lion, but you can use any kind of pepper or even a slice of mushroom) and wrapped in a half-strip of bacon, they were toothpicked and grilled.
One more tip... let the charcoals get totally white and don’t use too many of them. Too hot of a grill will burn the bacon. Cook them slowly, figure on a half-hour, turning once during the process. Wow.
Another hunter told me this approach also works very well with chunks of Canada goose breast.
I loved Candy Thomson’s column of July 20 in The (Baltimore) Sun in which she talked about the “hunting haters” who are attempting to keep archers from killing deer in the forest near Loch Raven Reservoir, which is Baltimore’s drinking water supply.
It would seem that the hunting haters would prefer drinking water laced with silt (deer eat the vegetation that holds it back) and poo (the vegetation that deer eat on one end of their body comes out later at the other end) as opposed to letting license-buying hunters take care of that problem and fill their freezers all at the same once.
Candy is correct, of course. There are hunting haters out there. On the other hand, there are also people who simply have not yet been exposed to the pleasures of hunting, especially the pleasures of a successful hunt.
I used to fix my dove appetizers at an annual, now defunct, campout.
Our tradition was to have the youngsters be the appetizer servers, walking around camp with plates full of the once-winged, lip-smacking hors d’oeuvres, offering them for consumption on a late-October or early-November evening as the main course, venison steaks, awaited.
Several times a non-hunter would be present. Often, when offered one of the goodies, the person would say “I didn’t know anybody hunted doves. Why would you do that?”
No sooner would the question be lifted away by the evening, autumn breeze than the inquisitor’s tongue would bump up against the combination of two meats, a vegetable and the remains of the marinade. The question would be rapidly followed by an exclamation such as “wow,” or “ummmmmm.” To which would be added, “Tell me how to hunt doves.” They would say that, of course, as they wandered around camp looking for the kid and the plate.
I basically hunt to enjoy the experience and to eat. I even eat the occasional groundhog I shoot. I guess that’s why I’ve never gotten into hunts for coyotes or crows or other critters that won’t make their way into the really cold place atop of the beer fridge.
I don’t mind that people hunt those other animals. It’s just not something I’ve gotten into... yet.
Contact Outdoor Editor Mike Sawyers at msawyers@times-news.com.
Michael A Sawyers - Outdoors
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