There’s a particular kind of quiet you only get on the high plains of Wyoming in October, when the wind finally lays down for a minute and you’re belly-crawling through sagebrush trying to close the last two hundred yards on a pronghorn that’s been watching you the whole time. Antelope hunting out here is a humbling thing. These animals have eyes like binoculars and they live in the wide-open country where there’s nowhere to hide, so more days than not you go home with sunburn and a bruised ego instead of meat. But when it all comes together, when you finally fill a tag and get that buck field-dressed and cooling in the truck bed, there’s one cut I start thinking about before I’ve even packed the cooler: the backstrap.
If you’ve never worked with pronghorn, the backstrap is the long tenderloin that runs along either side of the spine. It’s the prize. On an animal this lean it’s the most tender muscle you’ll find, and it deserves to be treated with a little respect rather than getting ground up into burger with everything else. This is the cut I save for the first good meal of the season, and over the years I’ve settled on a juniper rub and a screaming-hot cast iron pan as the way I like it best. Simple, fast, and it lets the meat be the star.
Why Juniper, and Why It’s a Wyoming Thing
Here’s the part I love about this recipe: the juniper isn’t just some trendy ingredient I read about. It grows all over Wyoming. If you’ve spent any time in the foothills or the high desert, you’ve walked past Rocky Mountain juniper a hundred times without thinking about it, those scrubby, gnarled little trees clinging to rocky ridges with the pale blue-green berries. The antelope I’m cooking has probably bedded down in the shade of one. There’s something that feels right about seasoning the animal with the same country it came from.
Juniper berries have a piney, slightly resinous, almost gin-like flavor (gin is literally flavored with juniper), and that sharp aromatic quality is exactly what pairs so well with wild game. It cuts through the richness and gives the meat a wild, woodsy edge that store-bought beef could never pull off. You can forage your own if you know what you’re looking for, but honestly I usually just buy dried culinary juniper berries because it’s easier and I don’t have to worry about identifying the right species. Either way, you want to crush them fresh so the oils wake up.
The Juniper Rub
This is a Wyoming-pantry rub. Nothing exotic, nothing you have to order online. Here’s what you need for a 1 to 2 pound backstrap, which will serve 3 to 4 people:
- 1 tablespoon dried juniper berries, crushed
- 1 tablespoon kosher salt
- 1 teaspoon coarse black pepper
- 1 teaspoon garlic powder
- 1 teaspoon smoked paprika
- 1/2 teaspoon dried rubbed sage (optional, but it plays nice with the juniper)
Crush the juniper berries first. I use a mortar and pestle because it does the job in about ten seconds and I like the little ritual of it, but you can also put them in a zip-top bag and go at it with the bottom of a cast iron pan. You’re not making powder, just breaking them open and roughly cracking them. Then mix everything together in a small bowl. That’s the whole rub. If you want to grab a decent mortar and pestle, here’s a mortar and pestle on Amazon (affiliate link).
Cooking the Backstrap
The single most important thing to understand about pronghorn backstrap is that it is lean. There’s almost no intramuscular fat to keep it moist, which means if you overcook it, it goes from tender to shoe leather fast. The whole game here is hot and fast, then get it off the heat. I’m cooking to medium-rare, an internal temperature of 130 to 135°F, and not a degree more. If you like your beef well-done, I’d gently ask you to trust me just this once.
Step 1: Pull the backstrap out of the fridge 30 to 45 minutes before cooking so it comes up toward room temperature. Pat it bone-dry with paper towels. A wet surface won’t sear.
Step 2: Rub it down. Drizzle a little oil over the meat, then coat it all over with the juniper rub, pressing it in with your hands. Let it sit while your pan heats.
Step 3: Get a cast iron skillet ripping hot over high heat, or fire up the grill and get it as hot as it’ll go. You want it hot enough that a drop of water dances and vanishes. Add a tablespoon of high-smoke-point oil (avocado or grapeseed, not olive).
Step 4: Lay the backstrap in the pan and don’t touch it. Sear each side for about 2 to 3 minutes until you get a deep brown crust. Because a backstrap is round and long, roll it as you go to sear all the way around, maybe 8 to 10 minutes total depending on thickness. Use an instant-read thermometer and pull it the second it hits 130°F, because it’ll climb a few more degrees while it rests.
Step 5 (optional, but do it): In the last minute, drop a couple tablespoons of butter, a smashed garlic clove or two, and a sprig of rosemary into the pan. Tilt the pan and spoon that foaming butter over the meat again and again. This baste is the difference between a good backstrap and one that people remember.
An instant-read thermometer is genuinely the tool that makes or breaks lean game, so if you don’t own one, get one. Here’s an instant-read meat thermometer on Amazon (affiliate link), and if you need the pan itself, a good cast iron skillet on Amazon (also affiliate) will last you the rest of your life.
Rest It. I Mean It.
When the backstrap comes out of the pan, put it on a cutting board and leave it alone for a solid 8 to 10 minutes. I know it’s hard when it smells that good, but resting lets the juices redistribute back through the muscle instead of running out onto your board the moment you cut in. On a lean cut like this, resting isn’t a nice-to-have, it’s the whole ballgame. Slice it against the grain into medallions about half an inch thick, and you should see a beautiful rosy pink center from edge to edge.
A Word on “Gamey”
People love to say antelope is gamey. Here’s my honest take after a lot of years of eating it: most of the time, “gamey” is really “poorly handled.” Pronghorn live in warm early-season country, and if a hunter lets the carcass sit warm, doesn’t get the hide off, or drags it through the dirt, that’s where off flavors come from, not the animal itself. Get it cooled down fast, keep it clean, and take care of it in the field, and pronghorn is some of the finest, sweetest meat in the West. If you want to go deeper on caring for your harvest from field to table, I put together a whole Wyoming hunter’s guide to the table that covers it. The juniper rub in this recipe also does a lovely job of complementing that wild flavor rather than masking it, which is the point.
What to Serve With It
I keep the sides rustic and let the meat lead. Roasted fingerling potatoes crisped up in the leftover pan drippings are hard to beat. A pile of blistered green beans or some sautéed mushrooms, a slice of good sourdough to mop up the garlic butter, and maybe a glass of something red. If it’s fall and you’ve got someone over who helped pack the antelope out, this is the meal you feed them to say thank you. And if you’ve got extra backstrap or want another way to use up the harvest, my pronghorn jerky recipe turns the tougher cuts into the best road-trip snack in the state.
That’s it. Crushed juniper, a hot pan, and the discipline to pull the meat before you think you should. Do that and a pronghorn backstrap will change how you feel about wild game forever.
If you cook this, I’d love to see it. Tag me on Instagram @wyofood or come find Wyo Food on Facebook and show me your medallions. Happy hunting, and eat well out there.