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.