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I’ll start with a confession.
When I first told people I was getting into shooting, their faces were a mix of shock, confusion, and that classic British politeness where someone desperately wants to say, “But… why?!”
And I get it. Shooting, for a lot of people, conjures up images of tweed, double-barrels, and big bags of birds destined for a game dealer’s van. But that’s never been my reason. For me, pulling the trigger is only half the story, the real purpose is what happens afterwards: the eating!
So I shoot to eat.
Not to tick another species off a list, not to line walls with antlers, but because it’s the most honest way I know to put proper food on the table. And I think it’s something more of us should be doing, or at least, thinking about, because whether you’re into shooting or not, the big question is the same: do you actually know where your food comes from?
Supermarket Chic (and Why It’s All a Bit Odd)
Walk into any supermarket and you’ll see endless rows of chicken breasts in neat little plastic trays. They’re uniform, squeaky clean, and often suspiciously cheap. The packet might have a picture of a smiling farmer and a rolling field on it, but the reality is usually something very different.
Those chickens have been pushed through an industrial system at breakneck speed. The cows behind the shrink-wrapped mince have probably never seen a meadow. And don’t even get me started on meat that’s travelled halfway across the world, just to be slapped with a Union Jack sticker at the end.
The more I learned about how mass-produced food is treated, the less I wanted to eat it. And that’s where shooting came in. Because when I go out with the rifle, I know exactly where that meal has come from. I know the field, the weather that day, even the exact moment. No conveyor belts, no lorry journeys, no dodgy welfare standards. Just me, the countryside, and dinner.
The First Bite
I’ll never forget the first venison backstrap I cooked from a deer I shot myself.
There was this mix of pride, gratitude, and a bit of pressure because if I messed it up, I couldn’t exactly nip back to Tesco for another one. But when I cut into that perfectly pink slice, I realised this was it this was how food was meant to feel.
The flavour wasn’t just meat. It was connection. It was respect. It was the whole field-to-fork thing in its truest form.
And honestly? Once you’ve eaten wild venison, the idea of buying a polystyrene tray of imported beef feels a bit… well, bland.
It’s Not Just About Me
Now, I know not everyone is going to rush out, apply for a firearms licence, and start stalking deer next weekend. But even if shooting isn’t your thing, I think we can all take a moment to look more closely at what we’re eating.
Ask the butcher where the meat’s from. Buy a box of mixed game when it’s in season. Swap the shrink-wrapped for something that’s genuinely local.
Even those little changes make a huge difference, not just to the environment and animal welfare, but to your own connection with food. And who knows, maybe you’ll end up at one of my fire cooking days having a go yourself (shameless plug, but worth it).
Cooking Over Fire
Speaking of which… I run Hunter Gatherer Cooking (HGC), where I spend a frankly unhealthy amount of time cooking over fire. Why fire? Because it’s primal. It strips away all the nonsense and gets us back to the basics: real food, real flame, real flavour.
One of my favourite things is when people come to a fire cooking class and say, “I’ve never cooked venison before, I wouldn’t know where to start.” By the end of the day, they’re tucking into something they cooked themselves, eyes wide, saying, “I didn’t know it could taste like that.”
That’s the magic. That’s why I do it.
And it doesn’t have to be venison. It could be a chicken slowly turning on the rotisserie, or veg from a local farm shop blistered over the coals. (Yes, I cook veg too. Contrary to popular belief, I’m not permanently attached to a steak.)
The “Bambi” Question
I can’t really write this blog without addressing the obvious.
Yes, I shoot deer. Yes, I’ve had people tell me I’m heartless, cruel, or that I must be some kind of villain straight out of a Disney film.
But here’s the thing: the alternative isn’t some fairytale woodland where the deer all live happily ever after. Without proper management, deer suffer. Populations boom, food runs short, and you end up with starvation, disease, and road traffic accidents.
By stalking responsibly, I’m not just filling the freezer, I’m playing a small part in keeping the countryside healthy. And when every animal I shoot is eaten, nose to tail, that feels a lot more ethical than buying cheap chicken nuggets made from… well, who even knows what part of the bird.
Food With a Story
The best meals I’ve ever eaten haven’t been in fancy restaurants. They’ve been on a log next to the fire, surrounded by friends, eating something with a story.
A muntjac stew after a cold winter stalk. A haunch of fallow venison on the asado grill while the Somerset sun sets.
Food should tell a story. It should have meaning. And if there’s one thing I’d encourage anyone reading this to do, it’s to find a story in what you eat. Whether that’s shooting, fishing, or simply buying local, it all brings you closer to what’s on your plate.
A Friendly Challenge
So here’s my challenge to you: the next time you sit down to a meal, ask yourself a simple question, where did this actually come from?
If you don’t know, find out. If you’re not happy with the answer, change it. Because once you’ve tasted food that’s connected to the land, the season, and maybe even your own two hands, you’ll never look at shrink-wrapped chicken the same way again.
And if you fancy experiencing it first-hand, you know where to find me. At Hunter Gatherer Cooking, we’re always around the fire – grilling, smoking, roasting, laughing, and eating the kind of food that reminds you what it means to be human.
Let’s just say: it’s a far cry from a supermarket ready meal.
Final Thought
Shooting to eat isn’t about trophies. It’s not about numbers. It’s about respect for food and for the land it comes from.
And in a world where food is too often faceless, nameless, and processed beyond recognition, that respect feels more important than ever.
So whether you pick up a rifle, head to the farm shop, or buy a steak from a farmer you know by name, remember this: food isn’t just fuel. It’s connection. And when you’ve got that, every meal becomes something worth savouring.
About Me
I’m Alex, founder of Hunter Gatherer Cooking, country boy at heart, and slightly obsessed with fire cooking and deer stalking. I spend my time out in the field sourcing food the honest way, then cooking it over open flames back home in Bristol.
Hunter Gatherer Cooking has grown from a YouTube channel into fire cooking days, group events, and a community that celebrates real food, country living, and the stories behind what ends up on our plates.
I’ve been lucky enough to travel, film, and cook with some amazing producers, from artisan salmon farmers in the Scottish Highlands to deer managers across the UK, but the mission always stays the same: connecting people back to their food in the most natural, respectful way possible.
If that sounds like your thing, you can follow along here:
Website: www.huntergatherercooking.co.uk
YouTube: Hunter Gatherer Cooking
Instagram: @huntergatherercooking
