Rare Old YUKON TERRITORY Pemmican
The myth of Yukon Pete and his pemmican art.
Once in a while you hit it lucky and meet someone like
Yukon Pete.
RELATED CONTENT
They looked into the Prospecting Assistance Program through the Canadian government that pays indiv...
Barley has twice as much of the cholesterol-lowering fiber as highly touted oats, and it’s tasty an...
Barley has twice as much of the cholesterol-lowering fiber as highly touted oats, and it’s tasty an...
Barley has twice as much of the cholesterol-lowering fiber as highly touted oats, and it’s tasty an...
Pete was born in Dawson half a century plus ten or fifteen
years ago, and grew up on a wilderness farm where the
family had a milk cow, raised their own pork, planted a big
garden, and lived off the land. And, of course, they made
good use of the north country's plentiful wild game . . .
fresh, canned, smoked, and preserved as pemmican.
It's been fifty years since Pete ate his mother's pemmican,
but he remembers it as if it were yesterday . . . and
here's the recipe.
YUKON PETE'S PEMMICAN
One-third lean bear meat
One-third lean moose meat
One-third lean pork scraps
Salt, pepper, sage
Berries
Bear grease
To paraphrase another celebrated recipe, "First catch your
bear." Lucky hunters might substitute other wild
meats—venison or elk, maybe—for those listed
above, to add the true pemmican flavor that only game can
give. Us tenderfeet, though, may have to imitate the
mountain men of the old West, accept the fact that "meat's
meat", and use what we can get. Now about beef, pork, and
mutton? (Pete's recipe is somewhat unusual in that it
calls for fresh meat. More often, pemmicanwas madefromjerky.—MOTHER.)
Whatever makings you decide on, grind them with the medium
blade of your, food chopper, mix 'em well, and season with
salt and pepper (and, occasionally, sage for a change of
pace). Then cook the whole shebang together with very
little water—just enough to steam rather than boil
the pan's contents—until the meats are done. Toward
the end of the process, remove the lid from the kettle to
let the moisture evaporate while retaining the rich juices.
How much fruit you'll want to add to your pemmican is a
matter of taste. Personally, I'd keep the amount down to
not more than a quarter of the mixture . . . but suit
yourself.
The kind of fruit you add is also up to you. Pete's mother
made pemmican in late fall, when the hogs were slaughtered,
and spiced her mix with the cranberries she'd put up in
jars earlier. If you, too, choose canned berries, stir them
in when the meat is almost done.
Fresh fruit is also suitable for pemmican-making. I like
the idea of using serviceberries and chokecherries, as the
Indians did here in Idaho (but chokecherries, let me tell
you, are a curse to pit). Any such freshly picked
ingredients must be added earlier than canned berries to
allow thorough cooking.
