Styrian Venison Saddle with Celeriac, Lingonberries and Juniper
A proper autumn roast—no faffing about.
Venison saddle is what you hunt or buy in Styria come September—the season kicks off and every butcher worth his salt has hung meat in the back. I learned this one in a small lodge outside Mariazell, where the chef didn't fuss with foam or tweezers, just a knife, a hot pan, and respect for the animal. The lingonberries grow wild on the same hills where the deer roam; juniper grows alongside them like old mates.
How to Cook It
- 01
Prep and rest the venison
Remove the saddle from the fridge 30 minutes before cooking. Pat it dry with kitchen paper—moisture is the enemy of a golden crust. Season both sides generously with salt and pepper. Lightly crush 6 of the juniper berries and rub them into the meat along with a pinch of fleur de sel. Let it sit on the bench.
~10 min - 02
Start the celeriac purée
Peel the celeriac, cut into 3cm chunks, and drop into salted boiling water. Simmer for 15–18 minutes until a knife slides through like warm butter. Drain well, then pass through a mouli or fine sieve into a warm bowl. You want silk, not wallpaper paste.
~20 min - 03
Sear and roast the venison
Heat a large ovenproof frying pan over medium-high heat until smoking hot. Lay the saddle in with a knob of butter—it should hiss aggressively. Don't touch it for 3 minutes per side to build a crust. Transfer to a 190°C oven for 12–15 minutes (rare to medium-rare; venison is lean and toughens if overcooked). Rest on a warm plate for 5 minutes.
~25 min - 04
Build the lingonberry gel
In a small pan, warm the lingonberries gently with the remaining 6 juniper berries and a pinch of salt. Stir for 3–4 minutes until they soften and release juice. Crush gently with the back of a spoon—you want a loose, jammy gel, not a purée. Taste and adjust salt. Strain through a fine sieve if you prefer it smooth; I leave the berry skins in.
~8 min - 05
Finish the celeriac
Return the warm purée to the pan over low heat. Warm through gently, then whisk in the milk and a knob of butter. Season with salt and white pepper. It should be loose, billowy, almost porridge-like—add a splash more milk if it tightens up.
~5 min - 06
Make the juniper jus
Pour off all but a teaspoon of fat from the venison pan. Set it on medium heat, add the stock, and scrape the pan with a wooden spoon to lift all the browned bits. Let it bubble for 2–3 minutes. Whisk in the remaining cold butter in small pieces—it should emulsify into a glossy, light sauce. Taste and season. Strain if you like; I don't.
~5 min - 07
Plate and serve
Slice the rested venison against the grain into 4 neat slices per plate. Spoon a pool of warm celeriac purée in the centre, lean the venison against it, and drizzle the juniper jus around. Dot the lingonberry gel over and beside. Finish with a crack of pepper and a tiny pinch of fleur de sel. Serve at once—this is not a dish that waits.
~3 min
“Celeriac purée sits soft in the centre of a warm plate. The venison leans against it, three or four slices showing a rosy pink inside. The jus pools dark and glossy around the base; the lingonberry gel sits in bold little knobs on top and between the slices. Nothing fussy. Everything has a reason and a place. The plate should look like someone who knows their way around a kitchen made it, not someone trying to impress you.”
First bite: the crust on the venison is peppery and mineral, the meat underneath sweet and faintly iron-rich. The celeriac is silken, nutty, a perfect foil to the game. By mid-plate, the juniper jus has pooled into everything—piney, savoury, deep—and the lingonberries cut through with a bright, astringent sting. Finish: the richness of the butter lingers, but you're left clean-mouthed, wanting another bite.
Swap the venison saddle for a thick slab of smoked aubergine (charred on both sides in a hot pan with a glug of oil) or a robust mushroom like porcini or cremini, sliced 2cm thick and fried until golden. Keep the celeriac purée exactly as is—it's already vegan if you use olive oil instead of butter, and vegetable stock instead of milk (or cashew cream if you want richness). The lingonberry gel stays unchanged. For the jus, make a proper mushroom or vegetable stock reduction with the juniper berries, mounted with good olive oil instead of butter. The dish won't taste like venison, but it will taste of autumn, earth, and honest cooking.
Local red with enough tannin and acidity to stand up to game and juniper; earthy, not flashy.
Silky, savory, a touch of spice—mirrors the venison without bullying it.
A proper dark lager; malty sweetness balances the game and the sharp lingonberry.
Poured at the table instead of jus if you're steering clear of alcohol; earthy and savoury.
- ·Venison must rest after roasting—skip this and you lose all the juices to the plate.
- ·A mouli (rotary grater) makes celeriac purée silken in seconds; a blender turns it to gluey wallpaper if you're not careful.
- ·Lingonberries are tart; taste as you go and add a pinch of salt to brighten them, not sugar—sugar is for amateurs.
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