We never knew quite what to expect when we pulled up to my aunt and uncle’s Montana ranch after the long drive from Arizona. One year we pulled in with cherry bellies–that’s what we’d call eating way too many dark, sweet cherries at a u-pick orchard–to fi
nd my aunt waiting for us under the big cottonwood tree next to the house.
“Hope you all like goat,” she said with a somewhat sardonic smile.
My dad, who had tried goat while soldiering in North Africa, bravely said, ”I don’t mind a good goat stew now and then.” My mom and I, who had never eaten it, viewed the prospect rather dimly. No more was said about the meal plans as we unloaded the green Ford camper to settle in for our month’s stay.
My aunt lived out in the middle of Montana but still cooked as she had when friends with Chuck Williams, of Williams and Sonoma, in Marin County, CA. The goat arrived on the table that night bathed in a beurre blanc with a fresh salad and homemade french bread to accompany it. I could tell there was a story behind the goat and I couldn’t wait any longer “Uh, why are we eating goat meat?” I asked hopefully.
“Well, I’ll tell you,” my uncle said settling deeper into his chair. He paused for dramatic effect and the smell of the roasted goat wafted around the room on the warm summer air. “Do you remember my baby blue Mercedes sports car?” I remembered it well. This car was another legacy of the boom years in Marin County and it had always looked a bit out of place in its polished splendor on a gravel driveway in the middle of Montana.
“Yes, I do,” I said wondering what in the world it had to do with eating goat. “Well, I got home day before yesterday and there was a danged goat eating all the leather seats right out of the car. Before I knew it I had my rifle down and that goat’s seat eating days were over.” With this pronouncement he looked around the table, grabbed his fork and with great gusto started in on his piece of goat.
Somehow knowing this goat had been capering around a few days before zapped my desire to participate in my uncle’s revenge and I stealthily fed it in bits to the dog under the table.
If you’d like to learn different ways to cook goat click here.
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