Prairie Son

These native grazers are more than just meat.

Bison have traveled a long trail in the last century: from national icon to endangered species to between the buns in ski lodges al over the West, finally landing in the Ark of Taste this year. Bison – also known as buffalo – is finally getting acknowledged for its sweet flavor and nutritious attributes. It is also a sustainably produced protein that improves grassland ecosyste3ms because, well, it really isn't produced at all. Buffalo are wild, and over the millennia they have developed a relationship with the American prairie that could benefit, and to a small degree has benefited, both humans and the environment – as long as we leave the bison alone.

The high Wire bison and elk ranch in Hotchkiss, Colorado is a grass-fed, family owned operation. I rode into a pasture of 50 bison in the back of Sue Whittlesey's all-terrain vehicle. As we drove I heard her say under hear breath "Don't charge us, guys. Please, don't charge us."

As the bison circled the vehicle, snorting aggressively, their massive shaggy heads weaving with unfriendliness, I could not help but be utterly terrified. From ten feet away, bison look Paleolithic, every one of them large enough to flip the ATV into a ditch, me under it. But they must have decided that we weren't a threat, because a few tense moments later they moved on like a rolling field of gigantic brown boulders, kicking up dust and insects in their wake. "We don't sell problem animals," said Sue as we drove toward the gate. "We butcher them."

Bison are often cantankerous. They don't like enclosed spaces, often charge intruders and they have social behaviors that can make them difficult to manage (such as during the couple of days a bull is "dating" a cow; ranchers jeopardize their own safety if they come between the animals). These very qualities are what make bison a sustainably raised animal. They require less water than cattle and are resistant to anything but free-range feeding. They are not good candidates for corn feeding because they cannot be penned and so cannot be inoculated – even if the drugs were available (growth hormones and antibiotics are only approved for cattle). However, as ranchers develop better systems for handling them and disruptive animals are removed from the genetic pool, bison may become domesticated.

The force behind domestication is the market's demand for standardized flavor. The meat from corn-fed ruminants offers a creamy, uniform flavor, while the meat from grass-fed ruminants varies in taste from ranch to ranch, reflecting the terroir from which the animals come – and bison ranches exist in almost every state offering a variety of wild feed. Dave Carter, executive director of the National Bison Association, says the group discourages feed lot finishing and is trying to address consumer confusion by creating a taste and tenderness guide that diners can use to understand the variation in grass-fed bison flavors, "so it's not as much of a crapshoot for the consumer."

The grass affects the flavor of the meat, and the animal improves the diversity and health of the grass. Bison have evolved in tandem with the plants in their environment: their grazing has been observed to have a positive effect on prairie biodiversity, which si key to the compositional and production stability of grassland plants. Domestication could disrupt this delicate balance.

On of the country's most appealing advocates of grass-fed bison as restorer of the prarie lands is the rancher and writer Dan O'Brien, whose Wild Idea Buffalo Company in South Dakota sells not only 100% free-foaming and grass-fed bison, but also humanely harvested animals that are killed in the field, a practice "culturally acceptable to Indians, and morally acceptable for us." O'Brien sees little benefit in plugging the buffalo into the old cattle model. "Our strength is in grass and humane treatment. It doesn't make sense to change [bison] into cattle."

Buffalo meat was eaten fresh by Native Americans and dried into jerky for storage. Today, jerky is still prepared and sold by many ranchers. Its newest incarnation is the Tanka Bar, a modern version of the traditional wasna, a mix of buffalo meat cranberries that the Plains Indians packed into buffalo horns.

Better restaurants all over the country are experimenting with a range of cuts, from braised shank to short ribs to bision carpaccio. But it is the classics you are most likely to see: "I prepare a rib eye for two with roasted changerelles, red wine sauce, and crisp onion straws," says Mark Fisher, the talented chef-owner of the 689 in Carbondale, CO, and active member of Slow Food Roarding Fork. "It's almost comically huge."

Sales of bison have experienced solid growth over the last five years, and as consumers become aware of the healthfulness of the meat and the environmentally conscious way in which they can be ranched, one can expect the demand to increase. The trick will be convincing diners to stop comparing it to beef (and ranchers from trying to imitate beef) and appreciate bison meat for its own unique, and uniquely American, qualities.

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