Hog Wild

With the onset of fall, a few of the local Harley-riding chefs known as the District Hogs break the pen and head to the woods -- specifically, to a blind on Maryland’s Eastern Shore, widely considered the country’s best terrain for goose hunting. Pastry chef David Guas, who grew up enjoying the country’s best duck hunting in southern Louisiana, now has the best of both worlds when he shoots geese at the property of a close buddy in the industry out in Maryland. He’s usually joined by a rotating cast of Hog colleagues, including Robert Wiedmaier of Marcel’s, Brasserie Beck, and Brabo fame, and Vidalia’s RJ Cooper.

In a few weeks, Guas will be heading out to ‘re-dress’ the property’s three blinds, in advance of the season opening around Thanksgiving. He’ll help cut new evergreen, cornstalks, grasses, and other natural materials to cover and disguise the plywood shelters from which they shoot. “It’s my way of giving something back to our host,” he explains, “besides my standard offering of peanut brittle to stock the blinds.”

Of course, with a crowd like this, food plays a significant role in any event, and gourmet peanut brittle is just the beginning. Guas reminisces about a meal on the last day of goose season last year, featuring Robert’s venison chili, fresh seared duck breast, his own roasted cauliflower casserole and lemon meringue pies. “I much prefer eating duck to goose, which can be tough and pretty gamey” he says, “but RJ gave me a great recipe for goose pastrami that seems to be the ideal treatment: you roll the breast meat in heavy salt and spices – coriander, cinnamon, and so on, then cool them on a drying rack/sheet pan in the refrigerator again. Then I hang them in cheesecloth for about a month to cure them; I find that in my northern Virginia garage, the temperature at the end of the season is just about perfect for the job – about 50 degrees – so I rig a broomstick between my tool cabinet and workbench, and hang them right over with butcher’s twine. Then I’ll cryovac them, and pull them as needed. It’s do-it-yourself charcuterie.”

Guas loves the ritual of hunting waterfowl, as much as the game itself, and has fond childhood memories of hunting with male family members and friends. Within a few years, he hopes to pass his own first shotgun on to his elder son, who has also expressed an interest. “I’ll probably bring him along to the blind this season, with earplugs,” he says, “to expose him to the reality and discomfort, and frankly, for a kid, long stretches of boredom. Then if he’s still raring to go, we’ll get him in to a hunting safety course to do it right.”

With a supply of his father’s peanut brittle in the blind, heck, what’s not to enjoy?