A few days ago, Jordan killed a deer. Rather, his dogs, on a walk, ran after it and attacked it and brought it down, his girlfriend sat on it to hold it down and walkie-talkied Jordan who dropped what he was doing, ran up the hill to her and slit its throat. Kyle, who works at a salmon processing plant in Alaska half the year and who therefore always has an excess of salmon, has a smoker and brought it in to work for the deer. So yesterday, we had smoked venison tacos, set up on a picnic bench in the cellar.