It was 28 years ago this week that I killed my first deer, at the age of 13, yet I can still remember the many details of that encounter: the itch of cheap wool clothes, the sound of the deer’s approaching hooves at extremely close range, the sight of fresh blood against an already stunning Michigan backdrop of fallen autumn leaves. I hoisted the deer to my shoulders in order to get it out of the deep ravine where I was hunting, the same way that my father had carried his first deer shortly after returning home from WWII.

Over the past few years I had made that walk many times, alone and afraid in the dark, but now I was happy and proud.

All these years later, I insist on feeding my family a strict diet of wild meat when we’re eating at home. I hunt and fish nearly 100 days a year for everything from halibut to catfish and squirrels to elk. Handling meat is an almost daily part of my existence. I had many seemingly incongruous experiences butchering quarters of big game in Brooklyn apartments. (Our bedroom closet was occupied by a chest freezer; we left New York for Seattle last year and now have more room.)

At 9 months, my eldest son had his first taste of venison while we were living in Fort Greene. It was from a deer that I killed at our hunting and fishing shack in Alaska, carried home to JFK in a cooler. Now age 5, my boy has experienced the joy of catching his own food with a fishing rod. Someday, I hope, he and his two younger siblings will all join me on hunts.

It might seem like an unusual lifestyle, but I don’t do it for the juvenile pleasure of defying societal norms. I hunt because of the peace of mind that comes from maintaining an interactive relationship with nature. I hunt to show my children that there are practical benefits to hands-on self-sufficiency. I hunt because I enjoy it. And I hunt because a meal you struggled to produce tastes better than a meal that someone else struggled to produce.

The Pilgrims probably didn’t eat turkey at the first Thanksgiving, but they most certainly ate white-tailed deer. This year, I hope to score my own whitetail for my family’s dinner on Nov. 26. Wish me luck.

Steven Rinella, 41, is a TV host and the author of five books, most recently of the two-volume series “The Complete Guide to Hunting, Butchering, and Cooking Wild Game” (Spiegel & Grau).



Steven’s Thanksgiving venison

• 2- to 3-pound section of loin, cleaned and trimmed, silver skin removed

• Kosher salt

• Freshly ground black pepper

• Vegetable oil

• Extra-virgin olive oil

• 1 lemon, cut into wedges

Season the meat liberally with salt and pepper, then brush lightly with vegetable oil. Sear it on all sides in a very hot oiled skillet or on a grill, if you have one.

Then transfer it to a 400-degree oven or close the lid on the grill and keep cooking until the internal temperature hits 125. Let rest for 10 minutes.

Slice meat thinly, drizzle with extra-virgin olive oil and a squeeze of lemon juice. Serves 6 to 8.

Excerpted from “The Complete Guide To Hunting, Butchering, and Cooking Wild Game: Volume 1” by Steven Rinella, copyright © 2015 by Steven Rinella. Excerpted by permission of Spiegel & Grau, an imprint of Random House, a division of Penguin Random House LLC.