Venison Recipes

Braised Shoulder of Venison with Chestnuts, Cider & Crushed Celeriac

Feeling brave enough to try something a little different? Rolled venison neck might not be your usual go-to, but given the right treatment, it’s a real autumnal pleasure.

This versatile cut from the shoulder comprises the entire neck fillet and surrounding muscles, neatly rolled for easy carving and impressive presentation. It’s perfect for a slow, gentle braise. Sweet cider and chestnuts bring warmth and contrast to the rich, iron-like flavour of the venison, while smoked bacon adds depth and savoury richness. It’s a dish that truly celebrates the season.

Serves: 8-10

Cook time: 6 hours

Ingredients

For the Celeriac

Method

  1. Preheat your oven to 180°C.
  2. Score the chestnuts with a little cross and place them on a baking tray in the oven for 12 minutes. After 12 minutes, remove from the oven and leave aside to cool.
  3. Find a pan or casserole pot that has a lid that fits. Place on the stove on a medium heat and add the bacon lardons. Stir regularly, letting them brown whilst also rendering out their fat.
  4. Once browned and swimming in lovely fat, add the shallots, garlic, and celery. Season with salt and cook for about 10 minutes, stirring regularly. Turn the heat down if they are beginning to take on too much colour.
  5. Return to the chestnuts — now they have cooled down, the skins should peel easily. The outer shells will pop off, and hopefully, the inner skin too. Sometimes they can be a bit tricky. If this is the case, then simply take a knife to them and peel the skin off. It’s very satisfying when one just pops out clean!
  6. Once the vegetables are browned and softening nicely, add the plain flour and stir around the pan. Then add the cider and continue stirring (the flour may initially seem a little lumpy but don’t fear, that will cook out). Then add the chicken stock and bring up to a simmer.
  7. Carefully place the venison shoulder in the stock and add 3 bay leaves and the sage.
  8. Cover with a lid and then place in the oven at 180°C for 10 mins, then turn the oven down to 120°C and cook for a further 3 hours.
  9. Peel and then dice the celeriac into 2cm cubes. In a large pan, on a medium heat, add the butter, thyme and celeriac, plus a pinch of salt. Cook on a medium to high heat, stirring regularly so that the butter begins to brown (but not burn) and the celeriac begins to colour.
  10. Once you’ve achieved good caramelisation on the celeriac and have a lovely nutty brown butter, add ½ a cup of water and turn down the heat. Continue stirring and topping up with water as you go if needed. As it cooks and you continue to stir, the celeriac will break up, which is what you want. Check for seasoning and adjust the consistency with a little more water if needed.
  11. After 2 ½ hours, check the venison. It should be tender when prodded with a small knife. Return to the oven if it needs more cooking. If you are happy that it’s cooked, check the seasoning and adjust if necessary, and then leave to rest for at least half an hour.

Order meat online

Instagram

  • Always good to welcome chefs to the butchery. Earlier this week the teams from @llewelynslondon came up to see us. We showed them around the cutting room, talked through how we work, then headed up the hill for a bit of cooking and conversation.

For many chefs it is the first chance to see the whole journey. From the farms and fields where the animals are raised, through our ageing rooms, and finally into the kitchens that cook it.

If you are a chef and fancy a visit this year, you would be very welcome. Send us a message and we will put the kettle on.
  • March sits between seasons. Winter has not quite loosened its grip, and there is still time, and need, for fortifying pleasures. A bowl of chicken broth is one of them.

It begins with a proper chicken stock. Just bones and time in the pot, slowly giving up their flavour until the liquid runs clear and deeply savoury. If you watched our earlier film on how to break down a whole chicken, this is where the rest of it finds its purpose.

From there the broth is built. Pearl barley for substance. Cavolo nero and turnips for the season. Simple things, allowed to do their work in good stock.

Just before serving, a small splash of oloroso lifts the whole bowl.
  • British Pie Week, apparently.

We do not usually pay much attention to themed food weeks. We prefer to make and sell things when they feel right.

This year is different, thanks to our growing friendship with Yorkshire chef and pie obsessive Josh Whitehead, and his excellent pie project, Finer Pleasures.

Josh started @finer_pleasures in 2023 to make pies the way they should be made. Proper fillings, local meat and traditional methods.

So we thought we would join in.

The pie is a classic. Chicken, ham, leek and mushroom.

Brined chicken, smoked ham hock and a rich velouté finished with herbs, mustard and chestnut mushrooms or leeks.

A proper pie.

Available this week while they last.
  • It’s easy to become disconnected with the restaurants and kitchens where our meat ends up being prepped, cooked and served. Whilst Instagram can give us a certain understanding of how the food looks; we all know that there is no substitute for experiencing it first-hand. And that is what we had the pleasure of doing this week at the Canton Arms. One of London’s great pubs and one of our oldest, most significant customers. We have been suppling them with exceptional meat since nearly the very beginning of the Swaledale journey. 

Last night was a moment to celebrate that relationship in all its glory; our meat and their cooking and outstanding hospitality coming together for what was a grand evening. We ate, we drank, we chatted in a room that was alive. Long may dining rooms like this thrive and continue to provide people with a space to consume food, booze and hospitality in such a joyous way. 

It was a special night for us, and we hope for everyone who was there. 

Thanks to @chargieb , @cantontrish, @petea25 and the @cantonarms team for being total legends xx

Ps sorry for not getting any decent pics of the food! Was having too much fun.
  • We have all seen the videos. A chicken arrives. Five neat strokes of a knife. It falls apart as if by magic. That comes from thirty years at the block. Most of us do not have that.

So here is a slightly more Radio 4 approach.

A calm, sensible way to take a good chicken and break it down at home. Nothing flashy. Just understanding the joints, working with the bone, and giving each part the respect it deserves. When you do that, you open up a week (almost) of meals. Breasts cooked one way. Legs another. A carcass that becomes stock rather than waste. More on that to follow.

The only things you truly need are a great chicken and a proper knife. Ours is a beautiful honsuki knife kindly supplied by @kitchenprovisions and it does the job expertly. Sharp. Balanced. Delightful.

Watch along as @grylos talks it through.
  • Mutton has earned itself an unfair reputation. For centuries it was simply the meat we ate. Lamb is, in many ways, the modern preference, made possible by refrigeration and global trade. Before that shift, it would have made little sense to slaughter an animal before it had lived fully and bred. Sheep were kept for wool and continuity, and when their working life was complete, they became mutton.

It was part of a cycle. Practical and sustaining. What changed was not the meat, but our habits.

Yet not all mutton is equal. Age alone does not create depth. Mutton reflects the life it has lived. When sheep are kept longer and allowed to graze widely on varied forage, moorland grasses and herbal leys, time and terrain build complexity into the muscle and fat.

That is the mutton we favour and source. Darker, firmer and deeper in flavour, shaped by prolonged grazing on moorland such as this, just outside Skipton.

There was once a rhythm between wool on our backs and mutton on our tables. Perhaps that rhythm still makes sense.
  • Kindred spirits. Hot pans. Spiced mutton.
Swaledale x Canton Arms supper.
Wednesday 25 February.
To book email Thecantonarms@gmail.com

@cantonarms
  • Winter and its cold hands have us fully in a tight embrace right now. And so we find ourselves cooking more often than not, to warm our souls.

A ham at the weekend is one such thing that does the job. It can be used for all kinds of dishes and provide your weekdays with a plethora of fine sandwiches. But this fine cut also produces something else. An excellent, warming stock that should not be thrown away.

In fact, it should be used to make something just as special. A deep, hearty split pea and ham soup. And here is @grylos showing you how to do it. Like most things, if you cook with time and consideration, the by-product is often just as good as the main event.
Always good to welcome chefs to the butchery. Earlier this week the teams from @llewelynslondon came up to see us. We showed them around the cutting room, talked through how we work, then headed up the hill for a bit of cooking and conversation.

For many chefs it is the first chance to see the whole journey. From the farms and fields where the animals are raised, through our ageing rooms, and finally into the kitchens that cook it.

If you are a chef and fancy a visit this year, you would be very welcome. Send us a message and we will put the kettle on.
Always good to welcome chefs to the butchery. Earlier this week the teams from @llewelynslondon came up to see us. We showed them around the cutting room, talked through how we work, then headed up the hill for a bit of cooking and conversation.

For many chefs it is the first chance to see the whole journey. From the farms and fields where the animals are raised, through our ageing rooms, and finally into the kitchens that cook it.

If you are a chef and fancy a visit this year, you would be very welcome. Send us a message and we will put the kettle on.
Always good to welcome chefs to the butchery. Earlier this week the teams from @llewelynslondon came up to see us. We showed them around the cutting room, talked through how we work, then headed up the hill for a bit of cooking and conversation.

For many chefs it is the first chance to see the whole journey. From the farms and fields where the animals are raised, through our ageing rooms, and finally into the kitchens that cook it.

If you are a chef and fancy a visit this year, you would be very welcome. Send us a message and we will put the kettle on.
Always good to welcome chefs to the butchery. Earlier this week the teams from @llewelynslondon came up to see us. We showed them around the cutting room, talked through how we work, then headed up the hill for a bit of cooking and conversation. For many chefs it is the first chance to see the whole journey. From the farms and fields where the animals are raised, through our ageing rooms, and finally into the kitchens that cook it. If you are a chef and fancy a visit this year, you would be very welcome. Send us a message and we will put the kettle on.
1 day ago
40
View on Instagram |
1/8
March sits between seasons. Winter has not quite loosened its grip, and there is still time, and need, for fortifying pleasures. A bowl of chicken broth is one of them. It begins with a proper chicken stock. Just bones and time in the pot, slowly giving up their flavour until the liquid runs clear and deeply savoury. If you watched our earlier film on how to break down a whole chicken, this is where the rest of it finds its purpose. From there the broth is built. Pearl barley for substance. Cavolo nero and turnips for the season. Simple things, allowed to do their work in good stock. Just before serving, a small splash of oloroso lifts the whole bowl.
3 days ago
912
View on Instagram |
2/8
British Pie Week, apparently.

We do not usually pay much attention to themed food weeks. We prefer to make and sell things when they feel right.

This year is different, thanks to our growing friendship with Yorkshire chef and pie obsessive Josh Whitehead, and his excellent pie project, Finer Pleasures.

Josh started @finer_pleasures in 2023 to make pies the way they should be made. Proper fillings, local meat and traditional methods.

So we thought we would join in.

The pie is a classic. Chicken, ham, leek and mushroom.

Brined chicken, smoked ham hock and a rich velouté finished with herbs, mustard and chestnut mushrooms or leeks.

A proper pie.

Available this week while they last.
British Pie Week, apparently.

We do not usually pay much attention to themed food weeks. We prefer to make and sell things when they feel right.

This year is different, thanks to our growing friendship with Yorkshire chef and pie obsessive Josh Whitehead, and his excellent pie project, Finer Pleasures.

Josh started @finer_pleasures in 2023 to make pies the way they should be made. Proper fillings, local meat and traditional methods.

So we thought we would join in.

The pie is a classic. Chicken, ham, leek and mushroom.

Brined chicken, smoked ham hock and a rich velouté finished with herbs, mustard and chestnut mushrooms or leeks.

A proper pie.

Available this week while they last.
British Pie Week, apparently.

We do not usually pay much attention to themed food weeks. We prefer to make and sell things when they feel right.

This year is different, thanks to our growing friendship with Yorkshire chef and pie obsessive Josh Whitehead, and his excellent pie project, Finer Pleasures.

Josh started @finer_pleasures in 2023 to make pies the way they should be made. Proper fillings, local meat and traditional methods.

So we thought we would join in.

The pie is a classic. Chicken, ham, leek and mushroom.

Brined chicken, smoked ham hock and a rich velouté finished with herbs, mustard and chestnut mushrooms or leeks.

A proper pie.

Available this week while they last.
British Pie Week, apparently. We do not usually pay much attention to themed food weeks. We prefer to make and sell things when they feel right. This year is different, thanks to our growing friendship with Yorkshire chef and pie obsessive Josh Whitehead, and his excellent pie project, Finer Pleasures. Josh started @finer_pleasures in 2023 to make pies the way they should be made. Proper fillings, local meat and traditional methods. So we thought we would join in. The pie is a classic. Chicken, ham, leek and mushroom. Brined chicken, smoked ham hock and a rich velouté finished with herbs, mustard and chestnut mushrooms or leeks. A proper pie. Available this week while they last.
1 week ago
54
View on Instagram |
3/8
It’s easy to become disconnected with the restaurants and kitchens where our meat ends up being prepped, cooked and served. Whilst Instagram can give us a certain understanding of how the food looks; we all know that there is no substitute for experiencing it first-hand. And that is what we had the pleasure of doing this week at the Canton Arms. One of London’s great pubs and one of our oldest, most significant customers. We have been suppling them with exceptional meat since nearly the very beginning of the Swaledale journey. 

Last night was a moment to celebrate that relationship in all its glory; our meat and their cooking and outstanding hospitality coming together for what was a grand evening. We ate, we drank, we chatted in a room that was alive. Long may dining rooms like this thrive and continue to provide people with a space to consume food, booze and hospitality in such a joyous way. 

It was a special night for us, and we hope for everyone who was there. 

Thanks to @chargieb , @cantontrish, @petea25 and the @cantonarms team for being total legends xx

Ps sorry for not getting any decent pics of the food! Was having too much fun.
It’s easy to become disconnected with the restaurants and kitchens where our meat ends up being prepped, cooked and served. Whilst Instagram can give us a certain understanding of how the food looks; we all know that there is no substitute for experiencing it first-hand. And that is what we had the pleasure of doing this week at the Canton Arms. One of London’s great pubs and one of our oldest, most significant customers. We have been suppling them with exceptional meat since nearly the very beginning of the Swaledale journey. Last night was a moment to celebrate that relationship in all its glory; our meat and their cooking and outstanding hospitality coming together for what was a grand evening. We ate, we drank, we chatted in a room that was alive. Long may dining rooms like this thrive and continue to provide people with a space to consume food, booze and hospitality in such a joyous way. It was a special night for us, and we hope for everyone who was there. Thanks to @chargieb , @cantontrish, @petea25 and the @cantonarms team for being total legends xx Ps sorry for not getting any decent pics of the food! Was having too much fun.
2 weeks ago
1514
View on Instagram |
4/8
We have all seen the videos. A chicken arrives. Five neat strokes of a knife. It falls apart as if by magic. That comes from thirty years at the block. Most of us do not have that. So here is a slightly more Radio 4 approach. A calm, sensible way to take a good chicken and break it down at home. Nothing flashy. Just understanding the joints, working with the bone, and giving each part the respect it deserves. When you do that, you open up a week (almost) of meals. Breasts cooked one way. Legs another. A carcass that becomes stock rather than waste. More on that to follow. The only things you truly need are a great chicken and a proper knife. Ours is a beautiful honsuki knife kindly supplied by @kitchenprovisions and it does the job expertly. Sharp. Balanced. Delightful. Watch along as @grylos talks it through.
3 weeks ago
642
View on Instagram |
5/8
Mutton has earned itself an unfair reputation. For centuries it was simply the meat we ate. Lamb is, in many ways, the modern preference, made possible by refrigeration and global trade. Before that shift, it would have made little sense to slaughter an animal before it had lived fully and bred. Sheep were kept for wool and continuity, and when their working life was complete, they became mutton.

It was part of a cycle. Practical and sustaining. What changed was not the meat, but our habits.

Yet not all mutton is equal. Age alone does not create depth. Mutton reflects the life it has lived. When sheep are kept longer and allowed to graze widely on varied forage, moorland grasses and herbal leys, time and terrain build complexity into the muscle and fat.

That is the mutton we favour and source. Darker, firmer and deeper in flavour, shaped by prolonged grazing on moorland such as this, just outside Skipton.

There was once a rhythm between wool on our backs and mutton on our tables. Perhaps that rhythm still makes sense.
Mutton has earned itself an unfair reputation. For centuries it was simply the meat we ate. Lamb is, in many ways, the modern preference, made possible by refrigeration and global trade. Before that shift, it would have made little sense to slaughter an animal before it had lived fully and bred. Sheep were kept for wool and continuity, and when their working life was complete, they became mutton.

It was part of a cycle. Practical and sustaining. What changed was not the meat, but our habits.

Yet not all mutton is equal. Age alone does not create depth. Mutton reflects the life it has lived. When sheep are kept longer and allowed to graze widely on varied forage, moorland grasses and herbal leys, time and terrain build complexity into the muscle and fat.

That is the mutton we favour and source. Darker, firmer and deeper in flavour, shaped by prolonged grazing on moorland such as this, just outside Skipton.

There was once a rhythm between wool on our backs and mutton on our tables. Perhaps that rhythm still makes sense.
Mutton has earned itself an unfair reputation. For centuries it was simply the meat we ate. Lamb is, in many ways, the modern preference, made possible by refrigeration and global trade. Before that shift, it would have made little sense to slaughter an animal before it had lived fully and bred. Sheep were kept for wool and continuity, and when their working life was complete, they became mutton.

It was part of a cycle. Practical and sustaining. What changed was not the meat, but our habits.

Yet not all mutton is equal. Age alone does not create depth. Mutton reflects the life it has lived. When sheep are kept longer and allowed to graze widely on varied forage, moorland grasses and herbal leys, time and terrain build complexity into the muscle and fat.

That is the mutton we favour and source. Darker, firmer and deeper in flavour, shaped by prolonged grazing on moorland such as this, just outside Skipton.

There was once a rhythm between wool on our backs and mutton on our tables. Perhaps that rhythm still makes sense.
Mutton has earned itself an unfair reputation. For centuries it was simply the meat we ate. Lamb is, in many ways, the modern preference, made possible by refrigeration and global trade. Before that shift, it would have made little sense to slaughter an animal before it had lived fully and bred. Sheep were kept for wool and continuity, and when their working life was complete, they became mutton.

It was part of a cycle. Practical and sustaining. What changed was not the meat, but our habits.

Yet not all mutton is equal. Age alone does not create depth. Mutton reflects the life it has lived. When sheep are kept longer and allowed to graze widely on varied forage, moorland grasses and herbal leys, time and terrain build complexity into the muscle and fat.

That is the mutton we favour and source. Darker, firmer and deeper in flavour, shaped by prolonged grazing on moorland such as this, just outside Skipton.

There was once a rhythm between wool on our backs and mutton on our tables. Perhaps that rhythm still makes sense.
Mutton has earned itself an unfair reputation. For centuries it was simply the meat we ate. Lamb is, in many ways, the modern preference, made possible by refrigeration and global trade. Before that shift, it would have made little sense to slaughter an animal before it had lived fully and bred. Sheep were kept for wool and continuity, and when their working life was complete, they became mutton. It was part of a cycle. Practical and sustaining. What changed was not the meat, but our habits. Yet not all mutton is equal. Age alone does not create depth. Mutton reflects the life it has lived. When sheep are kept longer and allowed to graze widely on varied forage, moorland grasses and herbal leys, time and terrain build complexity into the muscle and fat. That is the mutton we favour and source. Darker, firmer and deeper in flavour, shaped by prolonged grazing on moorland such as this, just outside Skipton. There was once a rhythm between wool on our backs and mutton on our tables. Perhaps that rhythm still makes sense.
4 weeks ago
511
View on Instagram |
6/8
Kindred spirits. Hot pans. Spiced mutton. Swaledale x Canton Arms supper. Wednesday 25 February. To book email Thecantonarms@gmail.com @cantonarms
4 weeks ago
1536
View on Instagram |
7/8
Winter and its cold hands have us fully in a tight embrace right now. And so we find ourselves cooking more often than not, to warm our souls. A ham at the weekend is one such thing that does the job. It can be used for all kinds of dishes and provide your weekdays with a plethora of fine sandwiches. But this fine cut also produces something else. An excellent, warming stock that should not be thrown away. In fact, it should be used to make something just as special. A deep, hearty split pea and ham soup. And here is @grylos showing you how to do it. Like most things, if you cook with time and consideration, the by-product is often just as good as the main event.
1 month ago
14516
View on Instagram |
8/8