Squirrel Gravy
Too many food posts? What's that?
Dear MadCapMum had a post on squirrel behavior and I mentioned squirrel gravy which brought me around to post this. I suppose a whole lot of people think Beverly Hillbillies when I mention squirrel gravy. I hear there is good reason not to eat squirrels in, say, Georgia where there are tons of pine trees and no other mast -- I've heard that makes them taste like turpentine. But 'round here, there's plenty of acorns and hickory nuts and other things, and squirrel is a delicacy. To some of us. Hillbillies mostly.
The first animal I ever remember skinning was a squirrel. Gordon, who owned the local Gulf station and who to our delight flirted shamelessly as he cleaned our windows and checked our oil, was an avid sportsman and quite often brought his excess to my grandparents, who lived beside of us. It was his fish that I first scaled, and his squirrels that my grandfather had in his garage that day when I was maybe 6 or 7. I was riding a bicycle good I remember because that's what I was there asking my grandfather for -- I wanted a squirrel tail to go on my bicycle. He said, sure I could have one, but I'd have to help skin it. He told me where to hold on to, the skin he'd cut loose from the back legs. I was to pull as hard as I could and the skin was to come off like an inside-out sock. It didn't quite work that way. I was not heavy enough to budge that skin much, and I remember Dadaw holding that squirrel by his back legs, with me holding on to the skin and my feet completely off the ground. But I got my squirrel tale for trying.
And I always remembered the smell of that.
Years & years before that my grandfather's mother had been sick in bed for some time. She was dying of some form of "womb cancer", after bearing 16 children perhaps that was no surprise. She was having trouble eating but had said she really had a taste for some squirrel gravy. Now, that was a long time ago and these mountains were a long way from anything then and when the son who was at home looked around, there was only one shotgun shell. He took it and the gun and headed off into the woods anyway.
Before too long he spied what he'd most hoped for, two squirrels sitting together out on a branch. He took aim and brought them both home for his sister's to cook for his mother.
7 comments:
What a wonderful story, well told!
Our squirrels are spruce-cone fed, and about half the size of their southern cousins. I suppose they might do in a pinch, but it sounds like a lot of skinning for a toothful.
It's really hard to say. I might be able to for a while because of my lack of exposure.
But I figure if I can pull in a big harvest from the garden, my dearly beloved can deal with the carnivorous end of things.
Unfortunately, we've got ample time to ponder all these things, because God knows when we'll ever get out onto enough land to do them.
Oh well. It's a wholesome fantasy life if nothing else!
I'm sure squirrel gravy is probably very good, but this gal's going to take a pass.
I don't think I could eat it.
Errrgghh. Now you've got me queasy.
My grandmother still cracks the chicken bones with her teeth and sucks the marrow out. She's 95. I find it a little hard to share a table with her. Just over-sensitive, I guess.
I remember the family next door sucking squirrel brains as a kid. I only ate there once.
I remember visiting my brother in southern Virginia about 30 years ago. He was a newcomer to the hills there, but his neighbors were long-time, many generations hill folks. I always thought they had mentioned to me that they hunted and ate squirrel. Then, as the years passed, I thought maybe I had imagined it. So, it is delightful to read this post, and have it confirmed.
I like your story-telling.
good story. never in my wildest imagination would I believe there was squirrel gravy. people must be NUTS. lol.
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