The Gutless Method: A Better Approach for Tastier Game Meat

I had been standing in the exact same spot, motionless, for 90 minutes! Busted. A small bachelor group of bulls had me pegged while I was cruising through a timber patch on a north-facing slope. It was a blazing hot September day — the kind of heat that makes you wonder why you ever left the comfort of your air-conditioned living room. But there I was, frozen in place, feeling like someone had caught me sneaking through my own bedroom.

A spike bull was downhill and to my right, about 15 yards out. He'd only occasionally glance up in my direction. Two 5x5 bulls were engaged in a mock sparring match in front of me, just 25 yards away. But there was another animal, lurking above me to my right. I could only catch glimpses of tan and dark brown through the dense tangle of cedar and pine. Then, a beam of sunlight pierced through the foliage, illuminating an antler as thick as my arm as the bull reached back to scratch his hindquarters. This was the one.

As if on cue, every elk suddenly looked away. Instinct took over. I came to full draw, took a step forward to clear my shooting lane to the old bull, judged the yardage, settled the pin in the basketball-sized opening behind his shoulder, and let the arrow fly!

After a short tracking job of less than a hundred yards, there he was: several hundred pounds of 6-plus-year-old, 6x7 awesomeness. My largest bull to date, both in score and likely in pure body weight.

Now, here's where the real work begins. Every hunter faces the same questions after a successful harvest: How will this pre-rut titan taste? Will he be edible, or will I have to grind the whole thing into burger?

We've all heard the old wives' tales:

• "Hang him in a cooler for at least two weeks!"
• "Grind him into burger and smoke a bunch of summer sausage."
• "Soak any good cuts in buttermilk."
• "Marinade everything in Italian dressing."

The list goes on and on.

Over the past decade, I've been on a personal research mission. I've experimented with every imaginable process on just about every popular western game animal: elk, mule deer, Antelope, white-tailed deer, caribou, moose, and bears. I've choked down some pretty gamy critters in my life, but I'm convinced there's a secret to making any trophy not only palatable but downright delicious.

My family and I started by testing all the traditional methods and every recipe we could find. But no matter how much we seasoned, crusted, or rubbed, there was always that lingering gamey flavor. So, we decided to take a different approach.

Prioritizing Meat Care

First, we shifted our priorities. Pictures took a backseat to meat processing. Get the hide off fast, cool the meat down fast, and get it back home in a cooler as soon as possible. This helped, no doubt, but when it comes to western hunting, "as fast as possible" is relative. Sometimes it takes a full day to pack an animal out, and another day in a cooler before you even get home or to a processor.

We even tried the citric acid method, carrying powdered citric acid with us and applying it generously to exposed meat to combat bacteria and create a protective crust. It was great for keeping flies and yellow jackets at bay, but it didn't do much for flavor or tenderness.

Then, by pure accident, we stumbled upon what we believe is the holy grail of game meat processing.

The Alaskan Revelation

I was hunting caribou on the Haul Road in Alaska with some buddies. It was late August, and the caribou were being their usual elusive selves. The temperatures were in the low 80s, and the mosquitoes and black flies were thick enough to carry you away. After a sprint of a stalk across open ground, I finally got within 20 yards of a lone bull and made a clean shot.

Now, this bull had been trotting around, trying to avoid those pesky ever present flying nightmare clouds of flies and mosquitos, and he was downright hot when I managed to get an arrow in him. He ran about 100 yards before piling up on the tundra. In the time it took me to walk over to him, I watched in disbelief as his hind leg started to extend from his body. He was bloating up — fast.

Right then and there, I made the call to go gutless. I wanted to keep the kill site as blood-free as possible and avoid any potential meat contamination from the rapidly expanding bull. It was a decision made in the heat of the moment, purely for preservation. But the result? Some of the best-tasting caribou we’ve ever had.

We didn't connect the dots until a few years later.

The Pennsylvania Puzzle

I head back to Pennsylvania almost every year to visit family and hunt whitetails. One cold November morning, I arrowed a nice, healthy 3-year-old 7-point. He was in full rut and carried that unmistakable aroma. This was a corn and bean-fed buck, living the good life. We field dressed him in 25-degree weather, got him whole to the processor within an hour, and he was hanging in the cooler within 4 hours of being shot.

And you know what? That deer was practically inedible. The worst-tasting whitetail I've ever encountered.

What was the difference? That's when I started paying attention.

The "Vacuum Theory"

Here's how I believe it works: Think of an animal as a vacuum. In a closed system, smells and external influences can't penetrate the meat. But when that system is opened, everything the animal smells like starts to permeate the meat.

When we gut an animal, the blood and other bodily fluids have nowhere to go but back into the tissues. All that blood from the hide seeps into the meat, carrying with it the flavors and odors absorbed by the hide.

Now, consider the gutless method. Don't open the body cavity, so those fluids are not forced into the meat. Remove the hide first, which eliminates those external influences on the flavor.

We've been testing this theory for the past 10 years, and my family will attest to the significant difference in flavor and tenderness when we process our game this way.

I've also noticed a significant reduction in insects at the kill site. By not opening up the body cavity, we're not sending out an open invitation to every fly and yellow jacket in the county.

The Science Behind the Flavor

Now, I'm sure there's some fancy scientific explanation for all of this, probably something to do with the lymphatic system and how it transports fluids throughout the body. But I'm not a doctor, and I don't speak that language. I think about it in terms of marinades.

What you marinate your meat in is what your meat will taste like. Italian dressing? Tastes like Italian dressing. Wallow-soaked elk hide? Well, I love that smell when I'm out scouting for elk, but not so much when it's permeating the meat I'm going to feed my family.

Think of it this way: when you throw a steak in a marinade, you're essentially immersing it in a bath of flavors. Those flavors, whether they come from herbs, spices, acids, or enzymes, work their way into the meat through a process called diffusion. The molecules responsible for those flavors move from an area of high concentration (the marinade) to an area of low concentration (the meat) until they're evenly distributed.

But it's not just about flavor. Marinades can also have a significant impact on the texture of your meat. Acids, like vinegar or lemon juice, work by denaturing proteins, which means they alter the structure of the meat fibers. This can make the meat more tender but be careful! Over-marinating in acid can actually have the opposite effect, causing the meat to become tough.

Enzymes, found in fruits like pineapple and papaya, offer a gentler approach to tenderizing. They break down proteins more slowly and evenly, resulting in a more succulent final product.

Now, here's where things get interesting. Remember how I talked about the animal being like a vacuum? Well, the same principle applies to marinades. When you leave the hide on and the body cavity open, you're essentially creating a giant marinade bag. But instead of delicious herbs and spices, you're marinating your meat in blood, gut contents, and whatever else the animal happened to roll around in before you harvested it.

By using the gutless method, not only are those unwanted flavors prevented from seeping into the meat, but also allows more control over the final product is achieved. We can choose to marinate our meat in something delicious, or we can simply let the natural flavors shine through.

Beyond the Marinade: Other Factors Affecting Flavor

Of course, the marinade isn't the only factor that affects the flavor of your game meat. The animal's diet, age, and overall health all play a role. A deer that's been feeding on corn and soybeans will have a different flavor profile than one that's been browsing on acorns and berries. An older animal will generally have tougher meat, while a stressed animal may have meat that's more gamey.

But by using the gutless method and taking care to process meat quickly and efficiently, those negative influences can be minimized to ensure that we're getting the best possible flavor from our harvest.

As for that 348-inch 6x7 bull? I wouldn't trade him for all the grass-fed beef in the world. But thanks to this gutless methodology of meat care, he tasted every bit as good as he looked.

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