December 9, 2022

Pemmican: An Experiment in Preserving Meat

When I wrote Prepper's Livestock Handbook, I researched off-grid meat preservation methods and came up with quite a few. What surprises me now, is that I didn't think of pemmican. Pemmican is one of those things I recall reading about in grammar school history lessons about Native Americans and the early English and French explorers. I'm not sure why it didn't come to mind when I did my research for that book. 

I was reminded of pemmican when I was watching videos to pass the time while I shelled pole bean and turnip seeds for next year's garden. I subscribe to two historical cooking YouTube channels, and I ran across pemmican videos on both. Off-grid food preservation interests to me, so I did a little more research and decided to give it a try.

What is pemmican? It's a historical staple food of the Indigenous peoples of North America. Basically, it's dried meat, traditionally made from buffalo bison or venison. After it's dried (typically by the sun or campfire), it's powdered and mixed with melted suet or tallow. Sometimes, it contains dried fruit, but sometimes not. During WWI, the Norwegian army produced a version containing dried vegetables. Most importantly, it's shelf stable, which means it doesn't require refrigeration for storage. That makes it ideal for long trips, when hunting or stopping at the convenience store isn't possible. It's a concentrated source of protein and calories, and because it's fully cooked, it can be eaten as is (which is why it's often thought of as a survival food), or as an ingredient in soup, stew, or hash. 

The ingredients are simple: lean raw meat and suet or tallow. Since dried fruit is optional, I opted for a plain version. Here's the process in pictures.

Lean, top round beef roast. It weighed 2.42 pounds.

Cut cross grain into thin strips for dehydrating. No seasoning added.

Dried crisp, which took about 12 hours in the
dehydrator. The dried weight was 0.75 pound.

Pemmican is different from jerky in several ways. One is that it is cut cross grain instead of with the grain. Jerky is highly seasoned and dried until it's pliable. Pemmican is not seasoned and is dried until crisp. 

Cutting cross grain meant it was easy to snap into pieces for the
next step. Here it is in my power blender, ready to ground fine.

Meat "powder." (Actually, more like very tiny fine shreds.)

If suet is used, it needs to be rendered, i.e. melted to remove non-fat bits. If it's made from pig fat it's called lard. If it's made from cow, sheep, or goat, it's called tallow. My blog post on rendering tallow is here. Since I already had it, I just had to melt it to mix with the finely ground dried meat.

Melted tallow is added to bind the meat powder together. The amount
is roughly the same weight as the meat or less. I used my goat tallow.

It needs enough tallow to hold together without being overly
greasy. Gloves were recommended for easier hand clean-up.

Pressed into a mold and allowed to cool.

Turned out of the bread pan mold after a night in my unheated pantry.

Mine was crumbly when sliced. I'm guessing
this means it could have used more tallow.

Of course, we sampled it, and it wasn't what I expected. I watched a number of prepper videos where they sample it and think it's extremely bland and tasteless. Nobody seemed to care for it much and thought it's best use was for survival food. Dan and I thought it just tasted like beef. Not terribly greasy, and it could have used some salt, but the flavor was fine.

I packed most of it into wide-mouth pint
canning jars and then vacuum sealed them.

So, what will I do with it? Modern thinking classifies pemmican as a survival food, to eat as-is in a bug-out or emergency situation when one is unable to cook. For that, I think the addition of powdered dried fruit would help, not only for flavor, but to provide much needed carbohydrates. Historically, however, pemmican making was a food preservation method, and it was cooked, or used as an ingredient. As an ingredient, I found two recipes for it: rubaboo and rousseau (or rechaud). 

Traditionally, pemmican was stored in skins rather than molded as most modern instructions call for (because how many of us have a few storage skins handy?) For my second batch, I added salt (1/4  tsp. per 1/4 pound dried meat) and packed it directly into pint canning jars. 

1/2 lb dried meat + tallow = roughly one pint of pemmican

I can scoop out what I need when I use it.

When we taste tested this batch, we thought that the salt ratio of 1/4  tsp. salt to 1/4 pound dried meat was perfect.

Next time, I'll share how I made rubaboo and what we thought of it. (Click here for that blog post).

Resources:

© Dec 2022 by Leigh at  http://www.5acresandadream.com

December 5, 2022

Greenhouse Progress: A Side Project, Actually

Every big project seems to present at least one thing that isn't the project itself, but must be addressed in conjunction with the project. This time, it was removing a clump of crepe myrtle trees that we don't want shading the greenhouse. Crepe myrtles are deciduous, but the trees were pretty large and have no other purpose than ornamental. Dan decided to tackle it when it finally rained after a long dry spell. The root system of this clump of trees was likely to be extensive, so he wanted the soil moist and workable.

I didn't manage to take a before photo, but I found an old picture.

Photo from 2019. The crepe myrtle clump is circled in yellow.

People call crepe myrtles the 'lilac of the South,' but Dan calls it the 'chia bush of the South,' because it thrives on being cut back. It will send out numerous thick sprouts and spreads by runners. It's difficult to get rid of, so digging it out by the roots was the only option.

We trimmed it back first, reserving the branches and brush for wood chips. Then the digging started.

Hand digging revealed that the root system was
too extensive to remove the clump by hand.

Dan's PTO driven auger to the rescue.



Eventually, he was able to get a chain around it and pull it out.

He dragged it to the woods, and we wonder if it will reestablish itself.

Dan filled the hole back in and resumed actual work on the greenhouse. We talked about what to do with it, and we agree another African keyhole garden would be great there. Someday.

December 1, 2022

Our Agrarian Year: Season of the Hearth

Interesting reading
Or at least that's what Eric Sloane calls winter in his The Seasons of America Past. For those who live close to the land, it seems an appropriate nickname. Or, at least it sounds more charming than "the thankfully not-so-much-to-do season." Winter is the dormant season of most living things; often too cold, wet, and dismal with less to do outside. Staying inside near the woodstove just goes with the season. 

Of course, our southern winters aren't as cold as those in northern climes. People tease me about saying the 20s F is cold, to which I always respond, "but it's relative. 20°F (-6°C) is a 70-80 degree difference from our typical summer temps. Of course it feels cold to us Southerns!" And I get to tease them back when they complain about 80°F (26°C) being so unbearably sweltering. We're thrilled with summer temperatures that low!

So, what's on the winter project list? Seasonal chores revolve around keeping the critters watered, fed, and protected from drafts, and keeping the fire wood and kindling boxes full. But weather permitting, we still like to be outside.

Outdoor Projects

Indoor Projects
  • We still have two rooms to finish on the inside. While neither is specifically on our radar for finishing, both have become catch-all rooms and are in need of a good purge. That is something I plan to do this winter. 
  • Mending 
  • Freezer canning (jams, jellies, bone broth, etc.)
  • Personal learning. I'm not sure when Helen Atthowe's permaculture garden master course will be ready, but in the meantime, I want to resume where I left off in my photography course, which I set aside when the tomatoes, figs, and pears were overwhelming last summer.

Not a long list and nothing pressing, which is good. It's nice not to be so busy, plus it leaves room for whatever might pop up.