From Field to Table
A Chef’s Hunt for Knowledge About Food and Life
by Donna Hecker
My past hunting experiences I now see as culinary experiences. I was unaware at the time but I was learning a love for nature, preservation and balance. I was learning to use all of my senses and to be aware of the consequences of my actions, the significance of taking a life and how to honor that life to the best of my abilities. - Tyler McNabb
Holly Hill Culinary Director and Executive Chef Tyler McNabb reminisces about hunting with his father PD, short for Paul Donald. Chef Tyler, whose first name is also Paul, is now a father himself. He and his wife Brenna are parents of fraternal twins, Theo and Ruby, and their baby sister Zuzu Bee.
Growing up in Cynthiana, Tyler’s own childhood was bookended by cooking with his beloved Mammaw, Peggy Rae Davis; and hunting with his father. PD and Tyler’s mother Shoney agree that he was an easy-going kid — rarely moved to anger but fiercely competitive — maybe due to the fact that PD never cut Tyler or his brother Cole any slack. PD jokes that he taught Tyler a lot of “useless skills” but admits ruefully that Tyler now beats him at everything.
Well before Tyler and his best friend Brandon Barnett were old enough for hunter education training, they tagged along with their dads, walking the fields of Harrison County in search of deer and doves and ducks and geese.
Tyler knew how to shoot by the time he was ten, when he bagged his first turkey, a big 25-pounder. PD chuckles at the memory of his little boy trudging up the hill with the turkey slung over his shoulder, just like the “little engine that could.”
As PD tells it, Tyler’s first turkey was dry and tasteless. Which his son jokingly calls an “attempt to smear my good name”, blaming the outcome on a badly-sealed roasting bag. But nothing was ever wasted, no matter how it turned out, and they always ate what they caught; or donated it to others.
On a turkey hunt one year at the Blue Grass Army Depot, Tyler stalked a flock for what felt like miles through brambles and brush, over and under fences. Breathless and exhausted by the time he bagged one, the experience only increased Tyler’s appetite for his Uncle Frankie’s “legendary” wild turkey nuggets.
Not all adventures were so successful. Out for geese one foggy morning, Tyler and Brandon’s shots found their prey, but the boys themselves were not so lucky. As the fog lifted, they spotted their downed geese in the middle of a nearby lake, and no bird dog or boat to retrieve them with. So PD improvised by tying a pocket knife to the end of a fishing line. He cast over and over on one side of the lake, while the boys threw rocks into the water on the other side, hoping to create a bit of wake on that windless day. An hour or so later, they prevailed and bagged their birds.
If PD taught Tyler to hunt, it was his Mammaw who taught him kitchen basics. As a four-year-old, he was flipping eggs and stirring gravy, then learning to measure ingredients for recipes. Eventually she allowed him to help cook her famous fried chicken, trusting him to safely drop the flour-dredged pieces of chicken into a skillet of hot oil. Tyler would stay up all night with his Mammaw, cooking while the rest of the family wandered off.
She adored me; and I love feeding people, which I learned from her.
As Tyler’s cooking skills developed, he became the teacher, giving PD tips on how to prepare their catch. PD loved the sociableness of dove hunts but not necessarily the birds themselves, so he didn’t appreciate their succulence until Tyler taught him to cook them medium-rare. After that, the doves were often stuffed with jalapeños or dates or blue cheese and wrapped in bacon for the grill. Their “game” game went up a notch.
Tyler’s cooking has always been informed by the bounty of Kentucky’s abundant fields and pastures. We may buy duck from Farmer Joe and rabbit from Steve Skelton, processed under USDA inspection, but in Tyler’s hands they’re transformed into dishes that call forth their untamed kin, with ingredients that may well have been foraged in the wild — ramps, chanterelles, fiddlehead ferns, nettles. It’s Tyler’s best expression of his “love for nature, preservation and balance”, learned at his father’s side.
It’s been awhile now since father and son hunted together. PD still goes out with friends but Tyler’s most recent hunt was several years ago. He had been tracking an 8-point buck for a couple of seasons and decided to try his luck one more time on a Sunday after work.
Tyler prefers to hunt with a compound bow, which demands more skill from the hunter and gives the animal better odds of escape. It had been at least a year since Tyler last used his bow, so PD set up a target for a few practice rounds.
Finally satisfied with his aim, Tyler headed out to the deer stand at 3:10. Less than two hours later, he had his buck — quickly felled, and cleanly.
Now that Tyler’s grown, with grown-up responsibilities and a family, PD misses hunting with his son. But it’s a fleeting sadness, easily eclipsed by the joy the twins and their baby sister have brought. As the days shorten and shadows lengthen, Shoney and PD are cherishing their first grandchildren. And there’s no doubt the children will grow up knowing the McNabb family’s twinned love of nature and her gifts.
But ask now the beasts, and they shall teach thee; and the fowls of the air, and they shall tell thee: Or speak to the earth, and it shall teach thee: and the fishes of the sea shall declare unto thee. Job 12:7-9
© 2021, Holly Hill Inn/Ilex Summit, LLC and its affiliates, All Rights Reserved
Related Content:
Coffee Brined Venison for Dad
Get yourself yourself a deer, or find someone who has and talk them out of a choice piece of loin. And follow this recipe Tyler McNabb has written for his dad, PD McNabb.
