Elk Roast Paired w/ Samuel Adams Gold Rush

Elk Roast & Samuel Adams Gold Rush

Eatin’ and Drinkin’ with Lizzie 

*WARNING: This may seem like a philosophical rant. It is.

It’s lean elk meat. Elk hunted in the Black Hills of South Dakota. The hunter? My sister, a first-time hunter, who took down this elk with some big rifle or another. I couldn’t tell you which one. Maybe a 208? Maybe a 308? I imagine my stepdad rolling his eyes at my lack of firearm knowledge, but hey, this is not new information.

Now, what to pair with it? My mom suggested tomatoes, and conveniently, she had just dropped off a batch of her pureed vegetable soup—an all veggie blend of squash, broccoli, cauliflower, and just a splash of milk. Mostly water. Nothing too heavy.

The cooking method? Crockpot, of course. It’s the midwest way. I placed the elk roast in the slow cooker with a jar of my sister’s homemade stewed tomatoes—stewmatoes, as my mom calls them (Thanks, Ma!). Five hours on low, and the meat was falling apart.

Plating was straightforward but visually stunning: a base of pureed vegetable soup, topped with tender slices of elk roast, finished with stewmatoes as garnish. The combination of tomatoes and the veggie soup was phenomenal—earthy, slightly sweet, and full of comforting flavors.

Now, the beer. My exploration into non-alcoholic brews is still an ongoing adventure. Like with regular, alcoholic beer, there’s a pretty large number of options, each offering a different take on non-alcoholic beer. Samuel Adams Gold Rush landed on my radar for this pairing. Not because I think it’s all that great, but it’s what I was trying that week.

My Tasting Notes:

• Medium malt notes

• Medium body

• Light carbonation

• Fruity undertones

• Honey and syrup-like sweetness

I’d give it a solid 3 out of 5. It’s smooth, easy to drink, and pairs well with the richness of the elk roast. The honey-like quality in the beer brings out the subtle sweetness in the dish, complementing the savory, wild tones of the elk. The brightness of the tomatoes, with their natural acidity, contrasts with the honey notes, adding an extra layer to each bite. The pureed vegetable soup, packed with squash, broccoli, and cauliflower, emphasized the earthiness of the elk, and because I am who I am I added that spice. The addition of red pepper flakes brings the fire of that spice that pairs so nicely with the maltiness of the beer.

What the beer lacks, however, in my opinion, is a true palate refresher. A more carbonated, slightly lighter-bodied version of Gold Rush would serve this meal better, and the beer, offering a crispness to cut through the richness of the elk and the stew-like foundation of this dish. Still, for what it was, the pairing worked surprisingly well each ingredient taking the other to the next level.

As I sat with my meal, I reflected on where I had wandered over the week, and found myself lost in thought—about writing, about the podcast, about what stories to tell next. I spent a lot of time staring at sunsets, wandering tree strips, tracking wildlife prints in the snow left behind by deer, rabbits, racoons, pheasants and whatever else passed through after the spring storm.

**WARNING WARNING: Rant begins now. If you’re here for the pairing. It’s really beginning now.

Migration is a funny thing. Canadian geese head north, following the warmth of the seasons. Too hot, go north. Too cold, go south. I think they honk this when they’re in migration. A pattern as old as understanding the word old. We as people, also lived this way, too, once upon a time—chasing herds, planting crops when the land allowed. Now, we travel for leisure, for a change of scenery, lack of thinking about work-escaping from reality, I think they call it. We sip Mai Tais and Rum Punch on tropical islands instead of following the hunt. And yet, something about preparing this elk roast felt deeply connected to that simple, elementary way of living. As it is when I’m here in the heartland of rural America.

I think of elk. Elk adapt to their environment, grazing with the seasons, seeking food and shelter in a constant cycle of survival. Hunters, too, must adapt—tracking their prey, their food, adjusting their strategy, ideally respecting the land and the life they take. Even the food we eat is an act of adaptation. Vegetables flourish in the right conditions, requiring patience and lots of love. And beer? Beer has evolved as well. From a necessity in ancient times to a craft in modern culture, to for me, an alcohol-free version that meets curious tastes and an ever changing lifestyle.

This meal, this pairing—it’s all about adaptation. I may not have chosen non-alcoholic beer a few years ago, but here it is, working its way into my palate, shifting my perspective–again and again. The Gold Rush isn’t my favorite, but at this moment, with this meal, it makes sense. The mediocre (sorry, not sorry) beer and the chart popping food. Urging me on to continued exploration.The earthiness of the elk, the sweetness of the honeyed malt, the bright acidity of the tomatoes, the warming spice of red pepper flakes—all of it plays a role in the balance of flavors, just as I seek balance in my own life. A balance between the simple and the complex, the past and the present. That middle ground is where I find myself—within these words, within these meals, within this beer and food pairing shared with you.

So, if you ever find yourself with an elk roast—whether you hunted it yourself, splurged at a specialty butcher, or have friends with bows and rifles willing to share—this pairing is 100% worth it. It’s rich, nourishing, and deliciously satisfying.