Jeff,
Once hunted with a family in their hunting camp in West Virginia, with three generations of the family attending. Somebody killed a deer and that evening the husband of one of the middle generation daughters announced, "I'm going to feed everybody some of the best deer meat ever." Whereupon he took filets from the deer killed maybe 2 hours before, sliced them thin, and fried the slices too slowly in luke-warm vegetable oil. Naturally, they required a LOT of chewing, and didn't taste very good.
The grandmother of the family, the sharpest tack in the family, muttered not quite loud enough for him to hear: "Over-cooked some venison in rigor. Dipschidt...."
A little later the son-in-law was looking for the TV remote and she never mentioned it was lying on her lap, covered by the book she was reading.
