Sea-ducktive Stew Hunting guide’s tip for edible eiders pleases the palate

Sighing wearily, the dawn breeze finished blowing out the stars as the guide snapped the last of two dozen eider duck decoys onto a line anchored about 25 yards off a long, snow-covered ledge. Glancing at the dark strip of rockweed showing between the whitened ledge and the water, the guide said, “Tide’s slackin’ off now. Birds’ll be movin’ in here to feed any time now. Scallopers’ll stir ’em up.”

No sooner did the guide shift the idling outboard into forward gear than his Sport, huddled in the bow seat of the 17-foot boat, pointed astern saying, “There’s a flock. Coming straight at us.” Strung low to the water, flying wingtip to wingtip, 30 or so eiders entered the channel between the ledge and the mainland. Steadily, the big sea ducks approached on a course that would take them 100 yards or more beyond the ledge. Seconds later, however, the flock lifted, swung and scaled toward the decoys on set wings.

Directly, the eiders, predominantly drakes displaying prime black-and-white plumage, splashed down handy to the decoys and began diving, feeding and drifting off with the tide. As if he were watching the dawn rush hour of sea duck traffic – eiders, coots and old squaws – for the first time, the guide grinned and predicted, “I’d say we won’t be long gettin’ it done this mornin’.”

Accordingly, on that clear, cold January dawn the waterfowler’s usual game of hurry up and wait went begging. After anchoring the boat behind a huge rock, hardly were the guide and the Sport situated when six eiders swept past the lower end of the ledge, banked sharply and flew toward the decoys. When the report of the Sport’s 12-gauge Magnum pump rolled across the channel, a drake eider folded dead in the air; but two shots were needed to drop a second drake, which immediately dove.

Quickly, the Sport reloaded – federal waterfowl regulations restrict repeating shotguns to three shells – and administered the M4 coup de gras M0 when the duck surfaced. Because the downed eiders were floating in an eddy created by the tide flowing past the ledge, there was no urgent need to retrieve the ducks. Aside from that, however, another flock – a dozen, give or take – was approaching.

Seeing that the eiders were knotted tightly, the guide advised, “Don’t shoot into the flock, you’ll wound birds. Pick out the stragglers.” Suffice it to say, the Sport could shoot. When the smoke cleared he had cleanly killed two more eiders, a drake and a hen, leaving him one short of the daily limit of five.

Shortly thereafter, a flock of 100 or more eiders entered the channel and flew past without tipping a wing toward the decoys. “No chance of tollin’ a flock that big,” the guide allowed. “They’ve got someplace in mind to set down and feed and they won’t …”

“Three to our right,” the Sport interrupted. Thus, the hunt ended when he dropped a big drake from a trio that came winging toward the decoys like they were late for a will reading.

“Not bad,” said the guide. “We’ve been on this ledge all of 15 minutes and we’re done for the day.”

“Aren’t you going to do any shooting?” the Sport asked.

“Nope. And don’t bother askin’ if you can shoot my limit.”

After leaving the ledge and picking up the decoys and ducks, the guide asked, “You want me to breast out these birds for you?”

“No, thanks,” the Sport replied. “I don’t eat them. I give them to an old-timer over in Trenton. He makes a stew out of them.”

Shrugging, the guide allowed, “What you do with ’em’s your business – as long as they’re not wasted. But you’re missin’ the boat by givin’ ’em away. I can give you a recipe for cookin’ eiders that’ll make you think you’re eatin’ steak.”

“Oh, I think I know that sea-duck recipe,” the Sport replied. “The one about cooking the duck on a rock and then throwing the duck away and eating the rock.”

“I’m not jokin,” the guide persisted. “You cook ’em accordin’ to this recipe and I’ll guarantee you won’t give any more away. When we get back to my place I’ll give you a copy of it.”

“What the heck,” said the Sport. “I’ll take one home and try it.”

When he left the guide’s house later that morning, the Sport had the recipe for Sea Duck Jerome tucked into a pocket. The recipe first called for skinning and filleting the breast meat from two to three eider ducks. Then the meat is marinated in buttermilk for 48 hours, preferably in a container of glass or crockery. The meat is cut into thin strips. One-quarter pound of butter is melted in a large pan, add three tablespoons of red currant jelly, the juice of half a lemon, a teaspoon of dry mustard and one cup of bourbon.

The mixture is brought to a hard boil, the meat added and simmered for about three minutes. The mixture is served over wild rice.

When the guide answered his phone a few days later, the Sport’s voice said: “I called to say I had some second thoughts about using a cup of bourbon to cook a sea duck, but I have to admit it was worth it.

My wife and I just finished eating the eider I brought home and both of us were wishing we had more. I couldn’t believe how tender and tasty that meat was. So, as you might guess, the reason I’m calling you now is to see if there’s any chance we can get on that ledge again before the season ends. Now that you’ve convinced me of how edible eiders are, I’d like to put a few in my freezer.”

“We’ve got until January 20,” the guide replied. “So, as long as the weather doesn’t get too rough we’ll get out again.” After hanging up the phone, the guide chuckled and thought aloud, “I’d say that old-timer over in Trenton had better start lookin’ for another source of sea ducks.”

Tom Hennessey’s columns can be found on the BDN Internet page at: www.bangornews.com.