I had a fishing rod/reel in one hand, a BB gun in the other, a bag of beef jerky in my pocket, and a canteen on a military belt (left over from World War II during which my Dad fought in two theaters of war) around my waist, and miles of wide river bed to roam. It was a great way to grow up.
My training with the BB gun and fishing rod/reel came early in life, and the training was strict. After all, my Dad had been a battle-hardened master sergeant in the Army, and then later a California hunter safety instructor. With the skillsets he instilled in me, the remaining ongoing effort was keeping that bag of beef jerky full.
I spent a lot of time making jerky, especially since my friends I fished and hunted with always wanted some.
To make the beef jerky, I’d start out with a slab of meat with a pronounced grain, like brisket. I kept my knife sharp and used it to surgically slice off all fat and gristle. I like lean meat myself. Then I sliced the meat thin, but not too thin because I wanted it to have chewy body to it.
My Dad had taught me wilderness survival, since he grew up high in the mountains of Washington State back when it was lonely up there. His ways of preparing the jerky were rudimentary but efficient and tasted okay. I had access to a variety of ingredients, so I did things my way and it tasted great.
I marinated my sliced beef for a few hours in a mixture of un-iodized salt and brown sugar. Why un-iodized salt? I don’t know, ask a chemist. I just knew it worked best. Then I’d rub and squeeze some steak seasoning into the meat strips.
For variety (mostly because my fishing and hunting pals had different tastes), I’d brush some meat strips with teriyaki sauce (adhering to an ancient code that says with enough teriyaki sauce, most anything can be good).
Putting aluminum foil on the bottom of the oven saved a messy oven clean up later, or at least made it easier. I laid out the meat strips on the racks of the oven, making sure there was just enough space between them for hot air flow and drying. Then I’d turn on the oven as low as it would go and prop the door open about an inch to enhance drying.
Depending on how thick I cut the strips, the drying time was roughly eight hours (more for thicker cuts). I pulled the strips off the oven racks and put them on kitchen towels, then covered them with another kitchen towel for an hour to complete the drying process.
I found I could carry them in a plastic bag if I included a folded and tightly rolled paper towel to soak up any residual moisture. That way my pockets didn’t always smell like beef jerky.
Those bags of beef jerky got me through hundreds of fishing and hunting trips in fine fashion.
— Capt. David Bacon operates WaveWalker Charters and is president of SOFTIN Inc., a nonprofit organization providing seafaring opportunities for those in need. Visit softininc.blogspot.com to learn more about the organization and how you can help. Click here to read previous columns. The opinions expressed are his own.
