Tastes Good, Not Like a Mummy

After a recent sojourn in Death Valley, Ca. my wife Pamela and I were tooling the rental car through rural Nevada when we saw the large, hand-lettered sign:  ELK JERKY FREE SAMPLES.  Talk about four words you don’t expect to see together.

After about a half mile, there on the side of the road outside of Pahrump was a red pickup truck parked next to what looked like a plywood fruit-stand kind of display.  I pulled off the road onto the dusty, gravelly shoulder.  What can only be described as a geezer (not a galoot mind you) stirred in the cab of the pickup as his dog, an improbable tiny thing with a bow in its hair, yapped frantically at us.

He had a big grin as he slid out of the truck and strolled towards me as I approached the display.  He extended his hand and proclaimed, “I’m John.  I make jerky with my son Doug.  We call it John and Doug’s jerky.  What’s your name?”

We chatted for a while and I learned that he lived about 600 miles away in Utah, that he and Doug hunt and process what they sell, that he does this for fun, and would I like to try his wares.  He had all manner of jerky: beef, buffalo, deer, and elk in a wide variety of flavors.  He had some that was smoked, some with teriyaki flavoring, some with various peppers.  He sliced off chunks and as he handed them to me to try he’d pause so I could concentrate on the samples.  Then he’d quiz me about how each one tasted, how did it compare to the previous piece, was it better or worse than what I’d had in the past.

In between tastes I got the pitch: $12 for one pack, $11 if I bought two, and $10 for ten packs.  Assort them any way you please.  Also he had his phone number on the label, call if you want more and he’d ship it.

I’m no jerky expert, far from it.  But this stuff didn’t have the texture of leather.  And it was pliable and dare I say it, a little moist.  It was not like that stuff you find in a highway rest stop that makes you think you’re gnawing on a mummy.  It was quite good with  subtle flavors that were not overpowered by the spices.  I bought a few packs.

We said our goodbyes and off we went.  And as we drove towards civilization (Las Vegas?) it occurred to me that John had retail and salesmanship down cold:  He greeted his customers, engaged, them, described his products’ features and benefits, listened to his customers, was generous with samples, had adequate inventory, priced his merchandise reasonably, and had ample free parking.  And while I can’t say for sure, I will go out on a limb and bet you a pack of jerky that he did not have an MBA from Wharton.