Adventurous diners feast on gifts of forest

Having declared himself old enough to fix his own plate, Bentley Werdehausen of Tebbetts loads up on fried paddlefish at Sunday night's wild game dinner. The potluck meal is an annual tradition.
Having declared himself old enough to fix his own plate, Bentley Werdehausen of Tebbetts loads up on fried paddlefish at Sunday night's wild game dinner. The potluck meal is an annual tradition.

TEBBETTS, Mo. - New York City has its Explorers Club - known for annual dinners featuring anything from stuffed eyeballs to glazed kangaroo to once, purportedly, the preserved meat of a giant Ice Age sloth.

The tiny community of Tebbetts, meanwhile, throws a potluck to rival the famed feast for adventurous dishes.

You don't have to be a Theodore Roosevelt or Edmond Hillary (both Explorers Club members) to attend, just a local. Community members gathered Sunday evening in the cozy Tebbetts Community Center to enjoy some old-fashioned Missouri delicacies at the Wild Game Dinner.

Lois Bess has been participating since the event's beginning in the '70s, when the scene was lit with kerosene lamps.

"We called it the 'Roadkill Dinner,' which sounds bad," she said.

The meal reminds her of her youth - she's spent her whole life in the Tebbetts area.

"During the Great Depression, we ate mostly wild game," she said. "My husband killed lots of rabbits and squirrels, though we didn't have as much venison."

Venison featured prominently on Sunday's menu, appearing in four forms: deep-fried and in breakfast casserole, stromboli and egg rolls. Pheasant and wild turkey were on the buffet as well, served, respectively, with mushrooms and fried.

But those were the more pedestrian offerings. A brave diner could sample deep-fried rattlesnake, turtle soup, biscuits with squirrel gravy, raccoon tacos, pig "nuggets," fried paddlefish and opossum pot pie. Tasty sides and desserts contributed by participants helped ensure every belly was full by the evening's end.

"I brought hot dogs," as an alternative for the less-adventurous, added Kay Hoard. "People keep laughing about them because you're never really sure what's in a hot dog."

Sam Richards, participants agreed, should be credited as the man behind the meal. Over the last several years, he's become the default chef for the more exotic offerings - people will bring him unusual meat they acquire, and he'll figure out how to cook it.

"It's how we end up with so many dishes," Richards said.

That's how rattlesnake ended up on the menu. "It's new this year," he said. "I've never had that before."

His process for choosing recipes when faced with something new involves a lot of Google and improvisation, he said. Last year's skunk had people coming back for seconds. The rattlesnake proved tricky - it had little meat on its many, many ribs, so Richards coated it in a peppery batter and gave it a dip in the deep fryer.

"This is the first time I've eaten snake," said Nancy Hinnah after cleaning her plate. "I'm glad I had a piece to try, but also that I don't have to eat any more."

Stella Meloy, age 10, was a fan.

"It tastes like chicken, but with a lot of bones," she enthused.

Her 8-year-old sister, Abigail Meloy, who's taken down two deer so far this hunting season (her first), enjoyed all the venison. As Richards' granddaughters, they may be genetically inclined toward adventurous eating, their father, Chris Meloy, joked.

The venison egg rolls are one of Richards' classic dishes, and he's got them down to an art form. As a lean meat, deer benefits tremendously from being wrapped in a fried egg roll shell, while the soy sauce mixed in with the meat adds savory depth.

People were slightly more skeptical of the opossum pot pie.

"My dog will eat a groundhog, but he won't eat a opossum," said Evalane Meyer.

But in this reporter's view, it proved delicious, with a flaky crust surrounding a filling richer and more savory than your average pot pie.

"It's surprising how good opossum is," Richards agreed.

Sue Ferguson brought the pig "nuggets" - yes, they're testicles. As Ferguson pointed out, in lean times, people will eat any part of the pig but the squeal. Even in modern days, when most people shop at grocery stores rather than raising their own animals, pig nuggets still have their fans.

"You can't get them just anywhere," Ferguson said.

By the time people moved on to the pumpkin pie, apple crisp and brownies laid out on the dessert table, some were already looking forward to next year's meal.

"I come just about every year," said Keith Langwell, who volunteered with Richards in the kitchen. "It's all good food and always something different."