Slow Cooker Venison Barbecue Recipe (Deer-B-Que)

Top BBQ Venison Sandwiches with homemade creamy cider slaw.

I didn't grow up eating much venison. My dad was an avid squirrel hunter back in the day (all hail Wild, Wonderful West Virginia!), but when it came to a meaty dinner in our house, it was almost always pork, pork and more pork. Lord knows, I heart the pork (like, A LOT), but I love my game meats, too, so when I was bequeathed a 3 pound venison roast my first thought was bring on the slow cooker deer-b-que.

I learned to cook venison from an old friend in college who was an avid hunter. Nary a winter passed without seeing him come back from the Virginia mountains with a big buck laid out in the back of his pick-up truck, and after the deer was field dressed and processed, there would be enough meat to last for months. While the tenderloin was always the most highly prized, the lesser cuts would never to go waste, ending up as sausages, burgers, air dried deer jerky or plopped inside a crockpot to make venison barbecue, stew or roast.

While there are many ways to cook tougher cuts of venison (such as in a regular oven, Dutch oven, smoker or grill), the slow cooker is simply made for tackling a super lean piece of meat like this because of its low and slow heat and the fact that the slow cooker naturally retains a good amount of moisture during the cooking process. When it comes to making deer-b-que in the slow cooker, just about anything goes flavor-wise as long as your meat remains covered in some kind of liquid during the cooking process. Unlike a fatty, marbled pork butt (which makes some stellar-tasting BBQ in the crockpot), venison roast contains virtually no fat at all, so it won't be long before you have a dried out hockey puck piece of meat on your hands if it's not braised in liquid.

There are many ways to get around this dilemma when it comes to choosing your braising liquid. I've seen whole roasts covered in beer, cola, water infused with onions, garlic and celery (a sort of homemade stock), even cooking the roast in coffee, which was suggested to me by a Facebook friend. With all of these methods the roast is cooked for 9 hours or so until it's super tender in just the braising liquid. After which, the remaining liquid is discarded, the roast is removed and shredded and then returned to the slow cooker before it meets with a good dousing of your favorite BBQ sauce. Not only does this method help to stave off any gaminess by infusing it with additional flavor, but if you're liquid contains some kind of acid (vinegar, buttermilk, citrus, Coke), this helps to break down the connective tissue in the meat and reduce gaminess while tenderizing it. FYI: Not all venison cuts will have a strong gamey flavor. Much depends on how the deer was killed, what it ate, and how it was processed after the kill.

For this recipe, I wanted to create a one-pot wonder where the venison roast slow cooks directly in the barbecue sauce, eliminating the extra step of cooking it in a separate liquid prior. In order to make sure my barbecue sauce covered the meat (and the meat wasn't swimming in it once it was done), I sliced the venison in two-inch thick pieces and placed them on top of some onions before pouring in the barbecue sauce along with a bit of stock. Nine hours later my deer-b-que was done and, not only was it infused with tons of flavor from cooking it directly in the barbecue sauce, but all it needed was to be shredded and it was ready to stuff into a warm bun and topped with creamy cider slaw. Super easy, super tasty and nary a bit of gaminess.

Slow Cooker Venison Barbecue Sandwiches (A.K.A. The Bambi Sammy)

Makes 8-10 sandwiches, depending on the size of your roast.

When slow cooking a lean meat such as venison you will need to remember two things: make sure the meat is covered in some kind of liquid as it cooks in the slow cooker (be it BBQ sauce, water, beef stock, beer or a can of cola), and be sure add some type of fat into the cooking liquid (in this case, I incorporated a couple of tablespoons of butter into the BBQ sauce) to compensate for the venison’s leanness. Top these protein packed BBQ sandwiches with homemade cider slaw and a dash of hot sauce, if desired. Serve with Oven-Baked Spicy Rutabaga “Fries”(see recipe below) for a healthier take on a typical barbecue plate. Note: I used a 6-quart slow cooker for this recipe. Note #2: you can easily double the barbecue sauce and set some aside if you like your BBQ saucy.

3-4 pound whole venison roast
One large onion, sliced
1/4 cup cider vinegar
1/4 cup brown sugar
1/4 cup dark beer
½ cup ketchup
1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
3 ounces tomato paste
2 tablespoons melted unsalted butter
1 tablespoon chili powder
1 teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon dried mustard
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
¼ teaspoon red pepper flakes
¼ teaspoon black pepper
1 cup beef or chicken stock, beer, cola or water, or enough to cover the venison

Trim deer roast of any visible fat and/or connective tissue and cut it into 2-inch thick slices (this will help the meat to stay submerged in the sauce). Spray the inside of the slow cooker with cooking spray or place a slow cooker liner inside. Spread the sliced onions onto the bottom of the slow cooker. Place the pieces of meat inside the slow cooker without overlapping them too much, if possible.

In a medium-size bowl, whisk the cider vinegar and the brown sugar until the sugar has dissolved. Whisk in beer, ketchup, Worcestershire sauce, tomato paste, butter, chili powder, salt, mustard, garlic powder, red pepper flakes and black pepper. Pour sauce over the venison pieces, reserving about a ½ cup if desired to serve on the side. Pour the 1 cup of stock (or more) over the meat, making sure it is barely covered. Cover the slow cooker and set on low 9-10 hours or until the meat can be easily shredded. Remove meat to a large bowl and shred it with two forks. Return the meat to the slow cooker and cook another hour on low. Set the slow cooker to warm and serve barbecue straight from the slow cooker insert.

Oven-Baked Spicy Rutabaga "Fries"

Serves 4-6

Cook's Note: These won't get super crispy like potatoes, but they are still really tasty!






2 medium-sized rutabaga
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 tablespoon chili powder
¼ teaspoon cayenne pepper
½ teaspoon paprika
Salt and Pepper

Preheat oven to 425 degrees.

Peel and slice the rutabaga into ½-inch wide spears (as you would potatoes for making french fries). In a large bowl, mix together the olive oil, chili powder, cayenne pepper and paprika. Toss the rutabaga with the oil mixture and spread it (making sure it doesn't touch) onto a large baking sheet lined with parchment paper or sprayed generously with cooking spray. Season rutabaga with salt and pepper.

Place the sheet pan in the middle rack of the oven and cook the fries for about 15 minutes or until they begin to crisp on the bottom. Then turn over the rutabaga pieces and cook them on the other side, about another 15-20 minutes or until crispy, watching them closely so they don’t burn.

Remove fries to a serving platter and sprinkle with additional salt, if desired.

All photos and text ©2013 Fatback and Foie Gras. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed without permission.






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Homemade Big Mac Recipe

This shot is so sucky, I even tried to Instagram it to no avail.

Got a hankering for a burger? Try this one on for size. It's everything that makes the Big Mac so tasty, but it's 100% homemade.

Since I am in that phase of the cookbook writing process where I just had to have something that did not come from a slow cooker, I whipped up this little burger and was happy again. It's a recipe that I posted a couple of years ago, so it might look familiar, but it's still a winner, so if you feel like firing up the grill, I hope you'll give this one a try.

You could always just make a regular burger, too.

Just remember, no frozen patties here (yuck). Only ground beef pressed by hand (that's at least 15 percent fat since that has the most flavor). Also, I love to make burgers with ground chuck, a personal preference. And, for the sauce? That's homemade, too (meaning, no cheating with Thousand Island dressing, although there is a wee bit in the recipe as you'll note).

Finally, when you grill or fry your burgers, resist the urge to press down on the meat with a spatula. I see people doing this all the time and it makes me bonkers because it's the fastest way to lose all those precious meat juices.

So, grill up. Have fun, and if you make this recipe, I'd love to hear what you thought about it.

In the meantime, I'll be back to slow cooking.

Homemade Big Mac Recipe

Very Special Burger Sauce

¼ cup mayonnaise
2 tablespoons Thousand Island dressing
1 tablespoon sweet pickle relish
1 tablespoon minced onion
1/2 teaspoon white vinegar
Salt and Pepper, to taste

Mix all together and refrigerate until ready to use.


To Assemble Very Special Burgers
Makes one burger

2 thin hamburger patties
Salt and pepper
½ tablespoon vegetable oil
2 large sesame seed buns
One slice American cheese
2 tablespoon finely minced onion
½ cup finely shredded lettuce
3 slices dill pickles

Heat a grill pan or griddle to medium high.

Lightly salt and pepper hamburger patties. Add vegetable oil to pan and cook each burger until the juices run clean (you can also grill them). Remove burgers and set aside.

Take one of the buns, open it, and place each bun face down on the griddle or grill. Take the other bun and remove the heel (bottom part of the bun) and place it face down on the grill (save top part of bun for another burger).  Toast each bun well, letting them soak up a little of the leftover burger grease.

To assemble, spread one tablespoon of the Very Special Burger Sauce on the bottom bun and top with one tablespoon minced onions and some shredded lettuce. Top with the slice of cheese and then one of the burger patties.  Next add the remaining bottom bun.  Spread it with more dressing, minced onion, shredded lettuce, pickle slices and then add the second burger. Top with the remaining top bun.

©2012 Fatback and Foie Gras. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed without permission.

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What You Don't Know About Writing a Cookbook

Life as a recipe writer/tester is good when things work out.

So I'm officially in the thick of it, brainstorming, writing, shopping for ingredients, testing, tasting, re-writing, shopping for ingredients, re-testing, tasting, cleaning, bleaching and cleaning some more.

Such is the glamorous life of writing a cookbook. Don't get me wrong, I am utterly thrilled to death to have this opportunity, and every day I've got my eyes on the prize for when that first box of copies arrives on my doorstep, but the fact is, the means to the end involves some seriously hard work.

For starters, I haven't had a day off in at least 3 weeks (maybe more, but who is counting), and it looks like there ain't one coming anytime soon. I've got a fast deadline looming that often gives me panic attacks, most of the time at the oh-so convenient hour of 3am, which in turn, makes me a ball of fun when I have to get up at 7am. to start food prep.

Since I'm writing a slow cooker cookbook (emphasis on sloooowwww), the majority of the recipes I'm testing require 8+ hours of cooking time with some recipes topping out at 10-12 hours, which means there are some days where my work day starts at 8am and finishes at 11pm+. In effect, I've become a slave to my hot-ass kitchen, I've one nasty case of cabin fever, and I'm starting to get really cranky.

Now that I've aired that laundry list of whiny complaints, let me give you something practical to chew on, a little window into the financial world of what it's like to write a cookbook.

Recipe testing is an arduous and often expensive process: While some cookbook authors have an army of recipe writers, testers, kitchen assistants, personal shoppers, even ghostwriters to pen their books, the rest of us are left with a cutting board, a knife, pens and paper, and a long day ahead, and I personally wouldn't have it any other way. I'm far to anal to put my work in the hands of someone else, and frankly, sometimes it's easier to fly solo. While I do have several fine volunteer recipe testers lined up to help me (mostly friends and family), this will only happen after I have tested them at least twice and butchered them all to hell (please reference the above photo). This process not only includes conceptualizing, writing, testing, and re-testing, but sometimes even total failure with a complete do-over.

It also involves assembling grocery lists, shopping, shopping some more, and then shopping some more. I know my grocery store produce guys, my butchers and my check-out gals, and I figure they're wondering why I'm there all the time.

What many people may not realize is that all of these trips to the grocery store I pay for myself and they can get seriously expensive after weekly visits for months on end. But you got a big advance, so what's the problem, you ask? I did get an advance, but it wasn't "big" or anywhere on par with a Rachael Ray six-plus figure deal. It was average, and on par with what other cookbook authors who aren't celebs tend to make, and while I am thankful for the cushion, I will also need every penny of it. 

For starters, I paid a literary lawyer to help me negotiate the contract (I don't have an agent which can be another 15% deducted out of both your advance and your royalties). I am also paying for the book's photography (a biggie, but worth it because I know it will be stellar). I'm even paying for the indexing of the recipes (which takes a professional's eye so that was a necessity).

None of these extra costs are news to seasoned cookbook authors. This is how it's done now, and when one signs on to write a book, it's expected, but throw in food costs for testing some hundreds of recipes, paying the I.R.S., kitchen equipment costs, even basic necessities that get used up on a regular basis like trash bags, kitchen cleaning materials, kitchen tools etc...when the smoke clears, often an author ain't left with much. Toss in the fact that when she is on a super tight deadline, she won't have any time to take on any other jobs, so this cashola up front has got to last. To get a good idea of what I'm talking about, check out this article by veteran cookbook author David Lebovitz (specifically reference section 6 to see what I mean).

At the same time, writing a cookbook can be a beautiful thing. I've got dinners in the freezer to last the rest of the year, and my husband, parents and neighbors eat like kings. They get overly caloric, bacon-laden goodies like this on a regular basis:

They even get leftovers that can be made into yummy sandwiches.

So all is certainly not lost, not even close. I am loving every second of sweating in the kitchen and plopping my butt in front of the computer to conceive something new and exciting. In fact, I haven't felt this happy in a long time, and in the end that's what it's all about. I'm doing what I love, living the dream. I won't be getting rich and I'm okay with that. This is not why I'm here, and I figure thousands of hard working chefs, food writers, bloggers and various creatives know exactly what I'm talking about.

In the meantime, I shall keep on keeping on and you should too. If you dream of writing a cookbook one day, don't let this information discourage you, but do know it's not all hearts and flowers. If you're okay with that and still want in, write a book proposal, get an agent, or self-publish your own book. Whatever you do, just do it. Your personal satisfaction will be priceless.

©2012 Fatback and Foie Gras. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed without permission.

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