Fort Martin Scott Venison Rub

Now let me tell ya—huntin’ ain’t just a hobby in Texas, it’s one of our five seasons, right after Summer, Still Summer, Almost Summer, and Hotter’n Blazes. A season that important deserves its own seasoning, so I went ahead and cooked up a venison rub made just for the wild game of the Hill Country, Fort Martin Scott Venison Rub

Out here, we’ve got more white-tail and axis deer than we’ve got excuses for showin’ up late to work. Folks come from all over the country just to take a crack at fillin’ their freezer. And let’s be honest—around these parts, venison hits the table almost as often as Angus beef. Some families grill so much of it, the deer have started leavin’ passive-aggressive notes on the porch.

Now sittin’ right in the heart of Fredericksburg is Fort Martin Scott, standin’ there like an old cowboy who refuses to leave the dance hall. Used to be soldiers, families, pioneers, Comanche, and German settlers all crossed paths there. Before cattle ever strutted into the picture, everybody depended on the wild game of the region. If it roamed, flew, hopped, or made the mistake of lookin’ edible… it probably ended up in somebody’s stew pot.

The Army ran the fort from 1848 to 1853 to protect settlers and travelers. Texas Rangers used it too—before, during, after, and probably on their lunch breaks. Eventually it got abandoned and turned into a farm by the Braeutigam family. ’Cause in Texas, if something stands still long enough, somebody’ll plant tomatoes around it.

Now, in 1847, right before the fort got goin’, the German settlers sat down with several Comanche tribes and struck a treaty that—believe it or not—everybody actually honored. The Comanche got the right to stroll into town whenever they pleased, and in return, the Germans got to farm up along the Llano. They even promised that if times got rough, the town would hand over grain and the Comanche would bring back game, honey, and bear fat. Shoot—DoorDash couldn’t beat that deal with a stick.

So, in honor of the tribes who first lived this land, the settlers who found a way to live alongside ’em, and the fort that watched it all unfold, I named this rub Fort Martin Scott Venison Rub.

It’s bold, respectful of the land, and just spicy enough to make a deer think twice about wanderin’ too close to your backyard.

And just between us… it tastes mighty fine on pork, beef, or anything else sittin’ too still.