A Meating over Moose Stew

A Meating over Moose Stew

By James Gore
1/12/11

We arrived at the Ahtna Regional Corporation offices around sundown in the small town of Glenallen. The three hour drive from Anchorage was a striking one, with powerful winds blowing our truck around the icy roads. The views were absolutely spectacular, and I couldn’t help but think of the majestic winter wonderlands depicted in movies as we passed by fierce mountain peaks, frozen lakes, and permafrost tundra. As my colleagues, Barbara Blake and Laura Gidley, and I drove through an especially long and low valley, the vehicle’s thermometer hit fifteen degrees below zero, a new low for me. Over the next few days, I would see that number go lower and our bodies colder more than once.

Ahtna is one of thirteen regional corporations that together control the 44 million acres of tribal-owned land in Alaska. They control the resources in a way that I can only surmise to be a hybrid of County Government and Big Business.

I quickly learned that in this particular area of Alaska, traditional agriculture does not exist, and that they instead define agriculture as subsistence. Locals refer to their harvest of meat and vegetation as “take,” and pride themselves on “taking” in a sustainable manner. As Alaskan Natives believe in their right to self governance, they also believe that their “take” should be self governed and not subject to the oversight and regulation of the State and Federal authorities. They detest the fact that within their culture of taking only what they need, they must still comply with the State’s rule of law. This desire is only reinforced once learning that some 70-90 percent of the dietary protein consumed by rural Alaskan natives comes from a mixture of marine and land-based wildlife, specifically – salmon, moose, and caribou.

This discussion of subsistence focused on the plight of the local moose population. For the Athabascan people, to “take” a moose means much more than hunting, killing, and eating. The meat is cut to ensure short, mid, and long term consumption. The hide is cured and made into clothes and artisan goods for both use and sale. The antlers are proudly displayed above a home or carved into beautiful depictions of Athabasca life and culture. As a hunter, I admire this reverence.

I think it only more appropriate and relevant that as I listened and conversed with our hosts about this mighty moose, we were being served a hearty meal of moose stew. And, boy was it tasty! I was at first brought a steamy bowl of the meat, potato and vegetable concoction at the beginning of our meating (pun intended). The conversation and the flavor must have overtaken me because I found myself going back for seconds, and then thirds – while increasing the ratio of meat to veggie until my final bowl seemed to be just meat and broth. Oh boy!

As I finished that third bowl and continued with our meating, I couldn’t help but stop the conversation for a minute to let my new friends know that I was about as happy as a man could be. It wasn’t more than a minute later that Kathryn Martin, the head of their group, placed a fourth bowl in front of me and smiled, which I proceeded to devour as if it was my first. As our meeting came to an end and we said our goodbyes, I realized how voraciously I had been consuming both the conversation and that stew, and how full I felt in both thought and stomach…quite a nice combination.

It was only two days later that our friend Wilson Justin from the Cheesh’na tribal council – about 60 miles from that first meeting, told us that there was a legend developing around the area about a guy from Washington DC who had tried to eat half a moose during a meeting in Glenallen, and that he had made a good attempt at it. I told him that I could have probably fit in two more bowls if the meating hadn’t ended. He told me that if I had done so, the legend would have only been bigger and lasted longer.

I hope I get the chance to get back there and give it another go.