The Venison Burger - How to Make One That Is Juicy, and Cook It Over Fire

The venison burger is the dish that converts people. At festivals we sell more of them than everything else combined, and the comment I hear most is "I did not think I liked venison." They did not think so because the last venison burger they had was dry, and it was dry because whoever made it treated venison like beef.

Venison has almost no fat. A beef burger is somewhere around 20 per cent fat and that is what makes it juicy. A venison burger made from pure venison mince is a hockey puck. The fix is simple, and once you know it, a venison burger is better than beef: deeper flavour, cleaner finish, and it does not leave a film on the roof of your mouth.

The Mix

For six good burgers:

• 800g venison, coarsely minced. Shoulder or neck is ideal: more flavour than the prime cuts, and cheaper. If you are buying mince, ask for coarse. Fine mince packs tight and goes dense
• 200g pork back fat or fatty pork belly, minced with it. This is the whole secret. One part fat to four parts venison. Smoked bacon works too and adds something, but it salts the mix, so go easy on the salt
• Salt, about 10g, and black pepper. Nothing else is needed, though a pinch of crushed juniper is the house flavour
• No egg, no breadcrumbs, no onion in the mix. Those are for meatballs. A burger that needs binding has been overworked

Mix with cold hands, briefly, until the fat is evenly through the meat and no more. Overmixing is the second way to ruin it; it turns the texture rubbery.

Shaping

Divide into six, about 165g each. Shape loosely into a patty a little wider than your bun, because it shrinks. Press a shallow dimple into the centre with your thumb; it stops the middle doming as it cooks. Lay them on a tray, and into the fridge for at least half an hour so the fat firms up and the patty holds together on the grill. Season the outside heavily with salt just before they go on, not before: salt draws water out and you want the water in.

The Fire

Hot embers, a clean grate, and no flames. You want serious heat for a short time. Oil the grate, not the burger.

• Over the hot zone, three minutes without touching it. Do not press it. Pressing squeezes out the fat you carefully put in
• Flip once. Three more minutes
• Pull at 60C in the centre for a pink middle, which is where a venison burger should be. If you must have it well done, take it to 70C and accept it will be drier; this is the one burger that genuinely suffers from overcooking
• Cheese, if you want it, goes on after the flip, and a lid or an upturned pan over the burger for the last minute melts it
• Rest for two minutes on a board. Then build

Three things kill a venison burger: no fat, too much handling, and cooking it grey. Fix those and you have the burger that made more people eat venison than any argument I have ever made.
- Cai

The Build

A soft bun, toasted cut side down on the edge of the grill for thirty seconds. Something sharp: pickled red onion, or a quick cucumber pickle. Something rich: a smoked cheese, or a spoon of the onions that have been cooking slowly in a pan at the edge of the fire all afternoon. A dab of mustard mayo. Leave it there. The burger is the point and venison does not need burying.

At events we do a venison smash burger version too: smaller balls, pressed flat onto a hot plancha with a spatula for a lacy crust, 90 seconds a side. That one needs the fat even more, so push the pork up to one part in three.

Where the Meat Comes From

Any game dealer or good butcher sells venison mince, and the shoulder and neck I would use for this are the cuts that otherwise go to waste; I have written about what happens to the whole deer. If you want to make your own from scratch, a butchery day with us sends you home with the shoulder, and the burger is the first thing we cook with it.