Seeking the majestic wild turkey

Turkey is ubiquitous once a year on many holiday tables. The bird, whose preparation we spend so much time worrying about and planning, is a very different animal than the wild turkey, native to North America, and in some minds, synonymous with Thanksgiving. Jesse Griffiths, an Austin-based chef, restaurateur, author, and hunter has written The Turkey Book: A Chef’s Journal of Hunting and Cooking America’s Bird, about his intriguing experiences in the field. He hopes it will highlight conservation.

Evan Kleiman: You say in your journal that hunters relentlessly pursue these birds that have vacillating populations and infinite vulnerabilities while simultaneously dedicating massive resources to preserving their numbers. Can you explain this kind of conundrum to a non-hunter?

Jesse Griffiths: Absolutely. I think that you can go and look at the populations of the North American wild turkey basically since a European incursion, and see how they have dipped and risen in certain places. But most have gone extinct in many states and regions because of conservation, mostly from hunting groups, who have come in established woodlands, [taking] a ground up approach to making it a more hospitable environment for these turkeys to thrive again. 

We're seeing these populations come back and granted, yes, a lot of that is so that they can come back to huntable numbers. But, you know, hunters have no desire to hunt something completely to extinction. It doesn't make any sense. I think that the respect and just the general desire to know that every time that we go into the woods and that our children, our grandchildren go into the woods, that there will still be wild turkeys there, really propels it more than the desire to come home with a turkey.

Fried chicken is a poor substitute, says chef Jesse Griffiths, who thinks if you're going to fry a bird, it ought to be turkey. Photo by Jodi Horton.

Can you describe the bird? Tell us a little bit about what they look like as you see them in the woods and what their personalities are like.

The turkey vacillates in people's opinions between being kind of ugly to majestically beautiful. And they are one of the oddest looking birds. They have the snood, which is this floppy skin that hangs off the head. They've got these bumpy caruncles on their head. They've got this protruding hairy beard that comes out of the chest of the toms, the males. But beyond that, they also have these just beautiful, iridescent fans. 

There'll be some slight variation regionally between a bird and on the East Coast, a bird in the Rocky Mountains, a bird here in Texas. There's some subspecies. They're majestic. They're large birds as well. I mean, a really big one can weigh 25 pounds. Average is probably 19 to 20 pounds for a gobbler or a tom. And they are just kind of kings of the woods. 

They roost up in trees. They're very vocal. I mean, everybody knows a turkey gobble, and especially in the spring, when they start their mating rituals. You start to hear this discourse between the hens and the gobblers and this talking. I think that's what most hunters, or people that are in love with the turkey, really desire to be out in the woods in the spring when this vocalization is happening between the tom and the hen. 

As far as their personalities, their behavior, they go anywhere from simple, maybe downright dumb or making mistakes, to incredibly clever and frustrating from a hunter's perspective. I think any turkey hunter will tell you that you can go out and turkey hunt, and it could be over in 10 minutes, or you could go a week without even seeing one. 

In terms of how the seasons run and what you're allowed to hunt, how do hunters ensure that when they're hunting birds, they're not going to leave baby birds without parents?

That's a great question. To my knowledge, in the spring season, when the majority of the hunt is done, you're only allowed to shoot the male gobblers or bearded hens. So a bearded hen would be a female that has an attached beard. The bearded hen rule is only because the beard is the definitive identifier. Most turkey hunters, if not all turkey hunters, are never going to shoot a hen, even if there is a random state that has a season that's open for hens. Some states do allow the harvest of hens in the fall, but I see that rapidly falling out of favor for the very reason that, without the hens, you do not have turkeys in the future.

"I firmly believe in eating what we're after," says Jesse Griffiths. Photo by Jodi Horton.

Do you typically cook very much of your take out in the field, or do you package it in coolers to be brought back?

A little bit of both. You always want to check local regulations on whether it's okay for you to break it down past a certain cut. A lot of times, it's required that you keep birds or other game in more readily identifiable form, but whenever possible, yes, I firmly believe in eating what we're after. So if I'm with some friends in Oregon, we're gonna probably eat turkey every night while we're turkey hunting. I love that connection. 

Is there a particular dish that you do every time when you have the ability in the cooking facilities, like a go-to camping turkey favorite?

Absolutely, and it's going to be the easiest answer out there. That is fried turkey. The breasts of a wild turkey are just delicious. I say in the book that fried chicken is a poor substitute for fried turkey because I feel like if you enjoy fried poultry at all, you're gonna really experience it at its apex. When you have fried turkey, it's got a different density, a slightly different flavor. It's more robust. It's flat out better. 

There certainly could be a more complicated answer to it. But being born and raised in Texas, for me, fried turkey, gravy and mashed potatoes, and some greens and a little bit of vinegary hot sauce is my go-to that is one of my absolute favorite meals on this earth.

And when you're dealing with a wild turkey breast. Do you even think about brining it? 

I do, absolutely. I think a brine is essential. It can be anything from just pickle juice. I like to do a combination of some pickle juice and a standard brine of salt and water, possibly a few bay leaves, whatever you've got. But because of their wild nature, they can be denser, maybe a little tougher. The brine, besides adding in moisture and flavor, can help with tenderness as well.

"The Turkey Book: A Chef's Journal of Hunting and Cooking America's Bird" chronicles Jesse Griffiths' reverence for conservation and eating from the land. Photo courtesy of The Wild Books.