"Uh, Fraser? Flies."
"The smoke should keep them away."
Ray looked at him dubiously.
"Should?"
"Yes. Now, if you're going to just stand there, you may as well help," Fraser said. He pointed with his elbow. His hands and the knife he'd been using were both sort of bloody. "I want you to take that mallet and break all those bones up, while I finish here." The steel blade of the knife flashed, a film of red clinging to it, as Fraser went back to butchering. Ray's stomach rolled.
Ray started backing away. "What? Whoa, no way, no way."
"Ray," Fraser said darkly. "I've already stripped all the flesh off them. That is the least you can do."
"No, the least I can do is nothing, as in getting out of here," Ray said.
Fraser gave him a narrow eyed look.
"Go split those bones open, Ray, so we can render out the marrow fat. They need to boil for three hours, then we'll let them cool over night."
Ray eyed the pile of long white femurs and tibias and other pieces he'd couldn't categorize as easily with great suspicion, then reluctantly approached them. "This is really disgusting, you know," he complained.
"You eat meat, Ray, you shouldn't have any ethical objections to preparing it."
"I'm a supermarket carnivore, Fraser."
Ray picked up the mallet and brought it down on a leg bone. The impact flipped the bone into the air and over the table, where it smacked into Fraser's chest then down onto the butcher paper-covered table. Ray snickered. Fraser gave him a level, exasperated look, then picked the femur up and tossed it back to Ray. "Ray."
"Yeah?"
"Strike it at the center of the flat side, that's the weakest point."
Ray obediently tried it that way, snapping the bone open with a crack that made him cringe and tossing the pieces into the huge pot Fraser had conjured from somewhere. Then he went on to the next one. After a few minutes, he asked, "Tell me again why I'm doing this?"
"So that we can use the bone marrow grease to prepare the pemmican."
"You do know that I hate pemmican, right? It's like, like...fossilized, powdered mummy meat coated in fat," Ray complained. "It's disgusting."
"For good pemmican to retain the meat's food value, the dried meat should be shredded, Ray."
"Did I ask?"
Bang. Crack. Snap.
"No, I did not ask. Because. I. Do. Not. Want. To. Know."
"You did comment-"
"Fraser."
"I merely-"
"Fraser."
"Pemmican is not disgusting, Ray."
"Yes, it is."
"I venture to say that any food may be described in a fashion that renders it less than appetizing, Ray," Fraser said. "Eggs are the undeveloped embryos of chickens, while fruit are the reproductive organs of plants -"
"You trying to make me a vegetarian or something, Fraser? That's horrible. Do not say any more."
Fraser waited a beat then said, "Properly prepared pemmican is a tasty and nourishing food source with a high protein content for its weight and a long and fascinating history -"
"Which you're gonna bore me to death with now," Ray said under his breath.
" - It has been a staple supply of explorers such as your Lewis and Clark, fur traders, prospectors, and, of course, Oliver Hazard Peary, who commented, 'By the time I had finished the last morsel I would not have walked around the . . .igloo for anything . . .the St. Regis, the Blackstone or the Palace Hotel could have put before me,' and utilized it on his arctic expeditions, eating it twice a day." Fraser went on, "In 1840, the Hudson Bay Company bought 450 bags of 90 lb. standard bags of pemmican, Ray. They also bought 150 bales of dried meat, 3500 lbs of fat, and 500 bison tongues."
"Ewww."
"Ray, tongue is commonly sold in delis through out the United States, including Chicago."
"Not to me," Ray said stubbornly.
But he went on breaking up bones and later helped cut the long strips of meat and drape them over the willow racks over the fire to dry.
When they finished with the meat, ate the stew that had been simmering on the stove in the cabin all day, and crawled into bed after completing all the other chores, Fraser spooned Ray close and kissed the back of his neck.
"Dief's comatose," Ray murmured, wriggling in Fraser's arms, the warm breath at the back of his neck tickling.
"You shouldn't have snuck him all those trimmings while we butchered, Ray."
"So, I'm a soft touch."
Fraser's hands trailed down over Ray's chest and abdomen. "Not for long, I hope."
Ray chuckled. With his chest against Ray's back, Fraser could feel Ray's amusement through his own flesh, a gentle shake followed by a hitched breath as his hands moved further south.
"Yeah, okay, so I'm a hard guy, too."
Fraser smiled against Ray's shoulder.
"Thank you for helping today, Ray. I know you don't like pemmican."
Ray twisted around in his arms to face Fraser.
"And you don't like coffee, but you always make sure we have some," he said. "'S okay, you know?"
"I know."
"Just don't expect me to eat any of it."
End
Author's Note
Okay, below is a recipe for pemmican (not one I've tried, alas), though not the more traditional stuff Fraser had Ray help him making. That just isn't something most of us are going to want to try out. I've taken part in making jerky out of a whole steer, and while it's deliciously worthwhile, it's a job and takes days the way my grand-uncle did it. I figure Fraser would want to start from scratch and probably use caribou meat, drying it the traditional way on racks over a fire.
I used an article by Henri Libeiron and Bob St.-Cyr, Experiments in Pemmican Preparation, along with several other sources. A google search will find it and many other recipes and resources on preparing both jerky and pemmican.
Chokecherry Pemmican (Alberta Plains Cree)
Preparation
Wrap the dry meat in the canvas cloth and pound it with the rock into a fine consistency.
Add the chokecherries to the meat and pound again until well mixed together.
Add the sugar and lard to the meat/chokecherry mixture and combine, working until it has a meaty consistency.
Roll into balls to be eaten as finger food.
Three to four servings.
"The smoke should keep them away."
Ray looked at him dubiously.
"Should?"
"Yes. Now, if you're going to just stand there, you may as well help," Fraser said. He pointed with his elbow. His hands and the knife he'd been using were both sort of bloody. "I want you to take that mallet and break all those bones up, while I finish here." The steel blade of the knife flashed, a film of red clinging to it, as Fraser went back to butchering. Ray's stomach rolled.
Ray started backing away. "What? Whoa, no way, no way."
"Ray," Fraser said darkly. "I've already stripped all the flesh off them. That is the least you can do."
"No, the least I can do is nothing, as in getting out of here," Ray said.
Fraser gave him a narrow eyed look.
"Go split those bones open, Ray, so we can render out the marrow fat. They need to boil for three hours, then we'll let them cool over night."
Ray eyed the pile of long white femurs and tibias and other pieces he'd couldn't categorize as easily with great suspicion, then reluctantly approached them. "This is really disgusting, you know," he complained.
"You eat meat, Ray, you shouldn't have any ethical objections to preparing it."
"I'm a supermarket carnivore, Fraser."
Ray picked up the mallet and brought it down on a leg bone. The impact flipped the bone into the air and over the table, where it smacked into Fraser's chest then down onto the butcher paper-covered table. Ray snickered. Fraser gave him a level, exasperated look, then picked the femur up and tossed it back to Ray. "Ray."
"Yeah?"
"Strike it at the center of the flat side, that's the weakest point."
Ray obediently tried it that way, snapping the bone open with a crack that made him cringe and tossing the pieces into the huge pot Fraser had conjured from somewhere. Then he went on to the next one. After a few minutes, he asked, "Tell me again why I'm doing this?"
"So that we can use the bone marrow grease to prepare the pemmican."
"You do know that I hate pemmican, right? It's like, like...fossilized, powdered mummy meat coated in fat," Ray complained. "It's disgusting."
"For good pemmican to retain the meat's food value, the dried meat should be shredded, Ray."
"Did I ask?"
Bang. Crack. Snap.
"No, I did not ask. Because. I. Do. Not. Want. To. Know."
"You did comment-"
"Fraser."
"I merely-"
"Fraser."
"Pemmican is not disgusting, Ray."
"Yes, it is."
"I venture to say that any food may be described in a fashion that renders it less than appetizing, Ray," Fraser said. "Eggs are the undeveloped embryos of chickens, while fruit are the reproductive organs of plants -"
"You trying to make me a vegetarian or something, Fraser? That's horrible. Do not say any more."
Fraser waited a beat then said, "Properly prepared pemmican is a tasty and nourishing food source with a high protein content for its weight and a long and fascinating history -"
"Which you're gonna bore me to death with now," Ray said under his breath.
" - It has been a staple supply of explorers such as your Lewis and Clark, fur traders, prospectors, and, of course, Oliver Hazard Peary, who commented, 'By the time I had finished the last morsel I would not have walked around the . . .igloo for anything . . .the St. Regis, the Blackstone or the Palace Hotel could have put before me,' and utilized it on his arctic expeditions, eating it twice a day." Fraser went on, "In 1840, the Hudson Bay Company bought 450 bags of 90 lb. standard bags of pemmican, Ray. They also bought 150 bales of dried meat, 3500 lbs of fat, and 500 bison tongues."
"Ewww."
"Ray, tongue is commonly sold in delis through out the United States, including Chicago."
"Not to me," Ray said stubbornly.
But he went on breaking up bones and later helped cut the long strips of meat and drape them over the willow racks over the fire to dry.
When they finished with the meat, ate the stew that had been simmering on the stove in the cabin all day, and crawled into bed after completing all the other chores, Fraser spooned Ray close and kissed the back of his neck.
"Dief's comatose," Ray murmured, wriggling in Fraser's arms, the warm breath at the back of his neck tickling.
"You shouldn't have snuck him all those trimmings while we butchered, Ray."
"So, I'm a soft touch."
Fraser's hands trailed down over Ray's chest and abdomen. "Not for long, I hope."
Ray chuckled. With his chest against Ray's back, Fraser could feel Ray's amusement through his own flesh, a gentle shake followed by a hitched breath as his hands moved further south.
"Yeah, okay, so I'm a hard guy, too."
Fraser smiled against Ray's shoulder.
"Thank you for helping today, Ray. I know you don't like pemmican."
Ray twisted around in his arms to face Fraser.
"And you don't like coffee, but you always make sure we have some," he said. "'S okay, you know?"
"I know."
"Just don't expect me to eat any of it."
End
Author's Note
Okay, below is a recipe for pemmican (not one I've tried, alas), though not the more traditional stuff Fraser had Ray help him making. That just isn't something most of us are going to want to try out. I've taken part in making jerky out of a whole steer, and while it's deliciously worthwhile, it's a job and takes days the way my grand-uncle did it. I figure Fraser would want to start from scratch and probably use caribou meat, drying it the traditional way on racks over a fire.
I used an article by Henri Libeiron and Bob St.-Cyr, Experiments in Pemmican Preparation, along with several other sources. A google search will find it and many other recipes and resources on preparing both jerky and pemmican.
Chokecherry Pemmican (Alberta Plains Cree)
1 lb. dry or smoked moose meat
1 cup chokecherries
1 cup of lard
1 cup of sugar
1 sixteen by 16 inche piece of fine canvas cloth
1 heavy rock or heavy object ( but preferably a rock)
1 cup chokecherries
1 cup of lard
1 cup of sugar
1 sixteen by 16 inche piece of fine canvas cloth
1 heavy rock or heavy object ( but preferably a rock)
Preparation
Wrap the dry meat in the canvas cloth and pound it with the rock into a fine consistency.
Add the chokecherries to the meat and pound again until well mixed together.
Add the sugar and lard to the meat/chokecherry mixture and combine, working until it has a meaty consistency.
Roll into balls to be eaten as finger food.
Three to four servings.
-fin
- Summary: Just one more thing to learn if you want to live with Benton Fraser.
- Fandom: Due South
- Rating: PG
- Warnings:
- Author Notes:
- Date: 2004?
- Length: short
- Genre: m/m
- Category: humor
- Cast: Ray Kowalski, Benton Fraser
- Betas:
- Disclaimer: Not for profit. Transformative work written for private entertainment.