While the annual moose hunt has played a role in my family for many generations, I myself did not grow up hunting, unfortunately. My dad, grandfathers, uncles and brothers hunted, but my memories are of my mom cooking and baking for days to send the boys off on the hunt. Instead, I came to hunting later in life, as I was falling whole-heartedly in love with Newfoundland’s culture and its food. And when I became determined to fully embrace all that the province had to offer in my life, I set out on mission to understand wild food.

Now, I have the opportunity to share not only wild game but also the stories and importance of the moose hunt and this way of life. I want people to understand this place and its food, and why it is all so important. Whether it be making sausages, bottling moose, butchering game or cooking up a meal over a fire in the woods, I get to share with people that come from around the world, and with those from right here at home. At our cultural food residency, we help people connect to the land and the sea that our foods come from. From harvesting practices to tradition and preservation, these opportunities allow people to walk away with a deeper understanding of our culture and food.

I also believe that, to keep these wild foods on the table and part of our thriving culture, it’s not only acceptable but necessary to rediscover them in ways they may not have been explored before. We must evolve our preparations to showcase all that these treasured wild foods and game meats have to offer.

Now, not everyone would agree. Probably not my dad; God love him, but a moose carpaccio is not something he’s going anywhere near. “Sure Jes’, Lori, that’s handy still calling out,” he said to me once, after I served up a medium-rare tenderloin—implying that it was so rare, it may as well have still been in the woods running about and calling out its annual mating calls. “Don’t worry, Dad, I have a roast for you that’s been in the oven for hours.” I knew to make something a little more traditional for him.

Let me be clear: bottled moose, moose sausages, moose roast with gravy and steak on the BBQ are all very familiar here at home, and these traditional preparations hold a special place in my heart. But the new dishes are exciting to share: moose carpaccio with wild watercress aioli served up at a charity Rotary event, an air-dried moose Bresaola pulled out on a Friday night, moose pastrami sandwiches—and yes, even a medium-rare tenderloin with a wild mushroom and red wine sauce. These dishes remind me of all we have to be grateful for in this province with its thriving moose population.

Speaking of the Rotary…when I think about living a full life, there are few things I have done that can even compare to joining the Rotary Club of St. John’s East. My involvement with the club all started when I was asked to help with preparing a little over a hundred pounds of moose meat, which was hunted on a charity licence and donated to the Rotary—one of many local registered charities that puts wild moose meat donations to good use. It’s an example of how, as individuals, we can come together to build stronger communities. Sometimes we can do more than we think we can, and we find our way to these realizations through all kinds of experiences. That’s what hunting has done for me, and it’s been an incredible experience that continues to surprise me.

Last year, I hunted with my brother and my dad, and the memory of it still makes my heart race when telling stories of it. We were lucky to get our moose, and as I write this article and look out over the fall leaves changing, I think of last year’s hunt and seeing that big bull moose snort its hot breath in the cold autumn air. As always, we shared in the meat to enjoy all year; just last week, I pulled out the last of the moose roasts and turned it all into jerky—a favourite in our house and a great use of the previous year’s meat just as the season opens again. This year, I pulled my own licence, and the responsibility is passed on to me to honour it.

Moose hunting transcends mere sustenance; it embodies a cultural legacy that has endured for generations. This tradition creates a long-lasting opportunity to pass down knowledge, practices and preservation skills for generations to come, and it’s up to us to take care of these resources and honour them in every way we can. Yet even as we share the stories of the past, we are creating new stories by exploring traditional foods in new ways—stories of hope, stories of cultural diversity and stories of building stronger families and communities. These stories help us pay attention to the land that provides for us and teach us to responsibly care for our foods and where they come from, and appreciate their significance in who we are. 🫎

Lori McCarthy is the founder of Food Culture Place, a company dedicated to sharing a sense of place in Newfoundland and offering Cultural Food Residencies. foodcultureplace.ca  |  @foodcultureplace

Marsha Tulk is a photographer, recipe developer and award-winning author of Food Culture Place. foodcultureplace.ca  |  @foodofgenerationsce.ca  |   @foodofgeneration

This story appeared in Issue #3 of edible Newfoundland & Labrador, Warmth