Pulled Venison in Yorkshire Puddings

There are roasts, and then there are the roasts you remember.

For me, this one falls into the second category: a slow-cooked venison shank, braised until it collapses into rich strands, then tucked into tall, golden Yorkshire puddings with a good spoon of horseradish and a drizzle of gravy. It’s the kind of thing you eat standing up in the kitchen before it reaches the table, because it smells too good to wait.

It takes the comforting bones of a traditional Sunday roast and condenses them into two or three glorious mouthfuls: crisp batter, soft meat, hot horseradish, savoury juices. It’s familiar, but just different enough to feel special.

Slow comfort: why venison and Yorkshires work so well

Venison shank is a cut that rewards time and patience. Full of connective tissue and flavour, it needs a long, gentle simmer to give up its toughness and turn silk-soft. What you get in return is meat with a deep, almost wintry richness and a glossy, collagen-rich cooking liquor that is begging to be turned into a sauce.

Yorkshire puddings are, in many ways, the perfect foil. They bring texture and lightness to the party, with crisp, irregular edges that catch the gravy and a hollow centre that practically asks to be filled with something luxurious. Where slices of venison on a plate can feel formal, a Yorkshire pudding piled with pulled meat and horseradish feels joyfully informal – the sort of food you hand to someone with a glass of red and a “here, try this.”

This is not a difficult recipe, but it does ask you to think in two tempos: the shank hums away lazily on the hob for hours, and then the Yorkshires demand a brief burst of attention and heat. The reward is a tray of roast-adjacent snacks that somehow feel like both starter and main.

Pulled venison with Yorkshire puddings & horseradish

Serves 4–6 as a hearty starter or part of a grazing table

Ingredients

For the venison

• 1 venison shank

• 1–2 tbsp neutral oil or tallow for browning

• 6–8 juniper berries

• 1–2 sprigs rosemary

• 6–8 whole black peppercorns

• 4–5 garlic cloves, lightly crushed

• 1 onion, quartered (skin on is fine)

• Water, enough to cover the shank

• Sea salt

For the Yorkshire puddings

• 100 g plain flour

• ¼ tsp fine salt

• 3 large free-range eggs

• 225 ml milk

• 4 tbsp oil or venison tallow

To serve

• Horseradish cream or creamed horseradish

• A little venison gravy or a quick cream-enriched sauce made from the cooking liquor

• Dill or flat-leaf parsley, finely chopped

Step 1: Slow-braised venison shank

Start early. The venison needs time for all that connective tissue to melt into tenderness.

Pat the venison shank dry and season it lightly with salt. Set a heavy, lidded pot (a casserole dish is ideal) over a medium–high heat and add a slick of oil or tallow. Brown the shank on all sides until it develops a deep, mahogany crust. Don’t rush this; the colour you build now will translate into depth of flavour later.

Once browned, lift the shank onto a plate.

Into the same pot go the flavourings: juniper berries, rosemary, black peppercorns, garlic cloves and the quartered onion. There should still be some fat left in the pan; if not, add a touch more. Cook everything over a medium heat until the onion starts to take on colour and the kitchen smells gloriously aromatic.

Now pour in enough water to comfortably cover the shank. Return the venison to the pot, making sure it’s mostly submerged, and season the liquid with a good pinch of salt.

Bring the pot up to the boil, then immediately turn the heat down to low, cover with the lid and let it simmer very gently for 4–6 hours. You’re aiming for the laziest possible bubble – more like a tremor than a boil. Top up with a little water if it starts to look too low.

The venison is ready when you can nudge it with a fork and the meat simply gives way, falling away from the bone.

Lift the shank out onto a plate or board and leave it to cool just enough that you can handle it. Strain the cooking liquid into a clean pan, discarding the aromatics. This liquid is liquid gold; you’ll use it for a quick gravy or cream sauce later.

Once the shank is cool enough, pull the meat from the bone with your fingers or a fork, teasing it into generous strands. Taste a piece and adjust the seasoning if needed – a pinch more salt can make the flavours sing.

Step 2: Simple, tall Yorkshire puddings

While the venison simmers (or in the last hour or so of cooking), you can make your Yorkshire pudding batter.

In a bowl, whisk together the plain flour and salt. Make a well in the centre and crack in the eggs, along with a splash of the milk. Whisk from the centre outwards, gradually pulling in the flour to form a smooth paste, then slowly add the remaining milk, whisking until you have a thin, lump-free batter.

If time allows, leave the batter to rest for up to an hour. Resting isn’t essential, but it does help the puddings rise more evenly.

When you’re ready to bake, heat the oven to 220°C.

Add about a tablespoon of oil or venison tallow into each hole of a sturdy muffin tray. Place the tray in the hot oven for 5–10 minutes, until the fat is shimmering and just on the edge of smoking.

Working quickly and carefully, slide the oven rack out, pour the batter into each hole so they’re about two-thirds full, and push the tray straight back into the heat. Close the door and resist the urge to open it.

Bake for 20–25 minutes, until the Yorkshire puddings are well risen, deep golden and crisp at the edges. They should have dramatic, irregular shapes – a good Yorkshire is never too polite.

Step 3: A quick gravy (if you’d like one)

You could happily serve these without gravy, but a little sauce turns them into something rather decadent.

Set the pan of strained venison cooking liquor over a medium heat and let it reduce to concentrate the flavour. If you like, whisk in a small knob of butter and a splash of cream to turn it into a silky, pale gravy that clings to the meat.

Taste and adjust seasoning – the flavours should be bold enough to stand up to the horseradish.

Step 4: Assembly

Now for the small ritual that makes all the slow cooking feel utterly worthwhile.

Take a warm Yorkshire pudding and, if the centre isn’t already hollowed by the rise, gently press it down a little to form a cup. Add a spoonful of horseradish cream – enough to feel present, but not so much it overwhelms.

Top with a tangle of pulled venison, letting pieces spill slightly over the edges. Spoon over a little of your venison gravy or cream sauce, letting it seep into the batter and pool around the meat.

Finish with a scattering of chopped dill or flat-leaf parsley for a fresh, green contrast.

Repeat with the remaining puddings and pile them onto a warm platter.

How to serve

These can be carried to the table as a sort of “passed plate” starter, each person taking one and eating with fingers and happy abandon. They also make a wonderful centrepiece for a more relaxed Sunday lunch: set out a tray of Yorkshire puddings, a bowl of pulled venison, a pot of horseradish and a jug of gravy, and let everyone assemble their own.

They are, in essence, the best parts of a roast dinner edited down into one or two bites: crisp and soft, hot and sharp, familiar and just a little wild.

And if you’re lucky enough to have leftovers, I’ll let you in on a small secret: a cold Yorkshire pudding, stuffed with pulled venison straight from the fridge and a fresh spoon of horseradish, makes an extremely good cook’s snack the next day. But I won’t blame you if there are never any left.