Venison Carpaccio Recipe

There is something quietly thrilling about raw meat at the table. Not in a steak-on-the-shield sort of way, but in that luxurious, almost secret sense that you are eating something very simple and very special, with almost nothing getting in the way.

Carpaccio is exactly that: cool, silky, translucent slices, arranged like satin on a plate, dressed rather than drowned. And when you swap beef for venison, something even more interesting happens. You get that gentle wildness, the whisper of the woods and frost and dark evenings, framed with bright, punchy flavours that wake the whole thing up.

This venison carpaccio is the sort of starter that makes dinner at home feel like a restaurant. Even better, it is astonishingly quick to make once you have your elements ready. It belongs to that magical category of recipes where the work is mostly in the shopping and the slicing.

The pleasure of raw (but not really raw)

Let us start with the meat. Venison has a natural elegance. It is lean, fine-grained and tender when treated kindly, and for this recipe you want a good fillet from a trusted butcher, game dealer, or one you have butchered yourself. Because we are serving it essentially raw, quality matters.

There is one little ritual before we slice. The fillet is rolled in sea salt flakes, freshly ground black pepper and a light slick of olive oil, then massaged like a very small, very pampered roast. After that it meets a fiercely hot pan for only a few seconds on each side.

We are not cooking the venison through; the centre remains as ruby as a winter sunset. The purpose of this brief sear is to kiss the outside with heat and take care of any lurking bacteria on the surface. The result is meat that is still raw in spirit, but with a faint, delicate edge of cooked flavour around it, like the browned rim of a good roast beef.

Then it rests. Not long, just enough to relax before the thin slicing that will transform it from solid fillet to silk ribbons.

Dressing with intent

Carpaccio lives or dies on two things: the quality of the meat and the sharpness of what you put over it. This is not the moment for a timid drizzle.

Here, the dressing is part East Asian pantry, part Caucasian fire. Into a small bowl goes soy sauce for savoury depth, sesame oil for that toasted, almost smoky perfume, sesame seeds for a soft crunch, grated ginger for heat, the juice of half a lime for brightness, and a spoonful of adjika.

Adjika, if it is new to you, is a glorious Georgian chilli and herb paste. It usually brings together chilli, garlic and a tangle of herbs and spices, and it has that rare talent of being fiery and fragrant at the same time. In this dressing it gives you a low hum of heat and an aromatic complexity that plays beautifully with the venison.

A quick stir, a taste, a small adjustment if you like it sharper or saltier, and you have what I can only describe as a glossy, savoury curtain ready to be poured.

A bed of pickle

Raw meat loves contrast. Soft needs crunch. Rich needs sharp. Cool needs bright. That is where the pickle comes in.

You can use what you have to hand. I like something with both acidity and a little intrigue. Pickled chilli fennel is a favourite: cool anise, little darts of heat, a clean snap between the teeth. But quick-pickled onions, shaved radishes or even a bright cabbage pickle would all be happy here.

A modest spoonful on the plate is enough. This is not a salad, it is a stage.

The fan and the finish

Once the venison has cooled slightly after its brief encounter with the pan, it is time for the knife. A very sharp one, please. The slices should be as thin as you can reasonably manage without swearing. Think of it like shaving ribbons from a bar of chocolate.

Lay the slices in a loose fan over the pickle. You are not roofing a house; gaps are not only acceptable, they are inviting. They give the dressing somewhere to pool.

Speaking of which, now is the satisfying moment. The soy-sesame-adjika dressing is spooned over the meat so it glistens. Finally, a scattering of finely sliced spring onion, for freshness and crunch, and a pinch of black sesame seeds, because they look wonderful and give the gentlest suggestion of poppy seed nuttiness with each bite.

And then, really, that is that. It goes straight to the table. Carpaccio is not a dish that likes to wait.

Venison Carpaccio with Soy, Sesame & Adjika

Serves 2 as a generous starter, or 3 to 4 as part of a spread

Ingredients

For the venison

• 1 venison fillet, good quality and well trimmed

• 1–2 tsp olive oil

• Sea salt flakes

• Freshly ground black pepper

For the drizzle

• 2 tbsp soy sauce

• 1 tbsp sesame oil

• 1–2 tsp sesame seeds

• 1 tsp adjika, or more to taste

• 1 tsp freshly grated ginger

• Juice of ½ lime

To serve

• A little pickle as a base (I used pickled chilli fennel)

• 1 spring onion, finely sliced

• A pinch of black sesame seeds

Method

1. Season and sear the venison Pat the venison fillet dry with kitchen paper. Rub it all over with olive oil, then sprinkle generously with sea salt flakes and black pepper. Massage the seasoning in so it clings to the meat.Heat a heavy frying pan until it is very hot. Add the fillet and sear it on all sides for just a few seconds per side. You are not looking for the heat to travel; you simply want a light sear on the outside. Remove to a plate and leave to cool slightly while you make the dressing.

2. Mix the drizzle In a small bowl, combine the soy sauce, sesame oil, sesame seeds, adjika, grated ginger and lime juice. Stir well, then taste. Adjust to your liking, adding a little more lime for sharpness, a touch more adjika for heat, or a pinch of sesame seeds if you want more texture.

3. Prepare the base Lay a small bed of pickle on each serving plate. You only need a modest layer; it is there to bring acidity and crunch, not to smother the meat.

4. Slice the venison Using a very sharp knife, slice the venison fillet as thinly as you can, cutting across the grain. The slices should be almost translucent. Fan them over the pickle in loose overlapping layers.

5. Dress and finish Spoon the soy and sesame dressing over the venison so each slice glistens. Sprinkle with finely sliced spring onion and a pinch of black sesame seeds.

Serve immediately, while the venison is still cool and tender and the dressing bright and glossy.

This is not a dish to overthink. It is a small celebration on a plate: of good meat, strong flavour and the quiet thrill of sitting down to something that looks far more complicated than it truly is.