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It's Just Hard

After a bit of negotiation and the promise to sanitize everywhere, I had most of a deer on Mom’s kitchen counter. Not the recognizable form, no ears or anything, but the quarters and cuts, set out like steaks prepped at a grocery store. It was an exciting afternoon, because, after burning through a book or two on the subject and becoming a YouTube butcher’s wiz, I was dying to get my hands on a whole animal. I was going to break it down myself—the result would be steaks, roasts, chops, burger, charcuterie, etc.

’Twas the plan.

The problem was I had two... read more