Yemi Adelekan is a food writer and blogger who was a semi-finalist in the 2022 series of BBC TV’s Masterchef competition.

Every Saturday Yemi writes on the Stray Ferret about her love of the area’s food and shares cooking tips – please get in touch with her if you want her to review a restaurant, visit your farm, taste the produce you sell or even share a recipe.

The past two weeks have been a whirlwind of food, flavours, and flight paths. I spent the first part of my holiday in Saskatoon, Canada – a name that rolls off the tongue like a nursery rhyme but feeds you like a dream. Known as one of Canada’s food baskets, Saskatoon is lush, generous, and quietly abundant.

Everywhere I turned, there was evidence of food grown with care – from golden fields and greenery as far as the eyes can see, to indoor farmers’ markets. And then, in a dramatic turn of climate and culinary scenery, I was in Tucson and Phoenix, Arizona where the stars of the show were cactus, dry heat and the Grand Canyon. The contrast made me appreciate just how much a landscape shapes its ingredients, and in turn, its food story. It made me think about home and how Yorkshire plays a key role in food production.

Game Theatre

So, imagine my joy when I landed back just in time for day two of the Great Yorkshire Show. I was greeted not only by familiar faces but also the unmatched buzz of Yorkshire’s biggest celebration of rural life. This year, there wasn’t a wellie or umbrella in sight, which felt strange. Instead, there has been an abundance of sunshine and heat, making me feel I brought back too much of the Arizona desert sun.

If you’ve never been, it’s a feast in every sense: artisan cheeses, golden jars of honey, butchery competitions so precise they felt like live theatre. But for me, the highlight is always the cooking theatres, and this year I was honoured to cook twice at the Game Theatre.

The Game Theatre is no ordinary kitchen stage. It’s a platform with a mission to get more of us cooking and eating game as part of a sustainable, seasonal diet. Hosted brilliantly by Ashley McCarthy, chocolatier and chef consultant, the theatre welcomed a stellar line-up of chefs showing just how versatile game can be.

There were venison burgers from Nathan Richardson-Kelly of Castle Howard, breaded rabbit from Lee Patrick of Nordica Bakery & Supper Club, squab pigeon dishes, koftas paired with fermented potato flatbread from the team at Fifty-Two: Rudding Park, and so much more. It was a playground for those of us who love bold, beautiful food.

One of the chefs I gleaned culinary wisdom from was Lionel Strub, the charming and cheeky chef-patron of The Clarendon Country Pub near Grassington. Lionel shared a brilliant tip: when pan-frying meat, blend butter and oil from the start, half and half. This lets you control the smoking point while getting buttery flavour all the way through, rather than just at the end.

He also shared a cheeky nudge at our British love for gravy, explaining the finesse and labour of love that goes into making a true jus – a reduction, not just a topping. One of my favourite takeaways was his use of grilled fruits with game birds. Instead of the usual salad, he created a warming, sweet-savoury pairing using Szechuan peppercorns that danced on the palate.

For my part, I cooked two Nigerian-inspired dishes using quail and trout. I was joined on stage by Howell Morgan, the trout fly fisherman who, ironically, doesn’t like trout. My challenge: to make him love it. I made trout two ways: one with a seaweed and sumac butter, the other coated in yaji spice – our beloved Nigerian suya seasoning made from roasted peanuts, cayenne, ginger and other earthy spices. I served both with jollof-inspired bulgur, adding a spicy backdrop that Howell genuinely enjoyed. Did I convert him into a trout lover? Not quite. But he liked the flavour, and that’s a win in my book.

A different kind of flavour

Game can feel intimidating – its flavours more robust, the cooking perceived as tricky. But here’s the truth: game is just meat with a bit more character. It’s lean, it’s seasonal, and it’s rooted in sustainability. I grew up eating game – we caught wild birds and animals, so it was part of our varied diet. We referred to game as ‘bush meat’, and it remains a local delicacy that people pay a lot for.

If you’re new to game, start small. Try venison burgers or a duck breast instead of beef or chicken. If you’re feeling bolder, give rabbit or pigeon a go. And if you’re lucky enough to find wild quail – try roasting or pan-searing it with your favourite spice rub. Think of game as a passport to a different kind of flavour – one that reflects the wildness of nature and the care of the cook.

There’s something beautiful about eating what’s in season, especially when it invites us out of our comfort zones and into new tastes. So, next time you’re at your local butcher, farmers’ market or food festival, be game for game. Try something different. As a wise Nigerian saying goes, “When the music changes, so must the dance”. So as the season changes, see it as time to change the menu too.

Start simple. Ask your butcher for a small cut of venison, rabbit or duck. Season boldly, cook gently, and see what stories those flavours want to tell.

In next week’s post, I’ll be sharing more about the dishes I cooked at the show – recipes, tips, and the full flavour stories behind them.

Until then, go on – be brave, be curious, and try something wild.