Pan-Seared Venison Red Wine Ramen
Venison is one of those meats that feels like an occasion just by existing. It's lean, gamey in the best way, and has this earthy intensity that makes beef seem almost boring by comparison. Cooking it well means treating it with respect, which mostly translates to not overcooking it into leather and pairing it with flavors that can stand up to its wildness. Red wine is the obvious choice because it matches that deep, almost mineral quality venison has, and when you reduce it into a broth with mushrooms and herbs, the whole thing starts to feel like you're eating something pulled straight out of a French countryside fantasy. This isn't weeknight food. It's date night food, or the kind of thing you make when you want to impress someone without looking like you're trying too hard. The venison gets a hard sear and stays medium-rare, the broth is rich and wine-dark, and the noodles soak up all that flavor like they were born for it. It's earthy, it's elegant, and it's the kind of dish that makes you want to pour another glass of wine and pretend you have your life together.
Forest meets the vine—venison blooms, wild and rare—autumn tastes like this.
Let Me Tell You...
I didn't grow up eating venison.
Where I'm from, deer were things you saw on the side of the road or in nature documentaries, not on your dinner plate.
But I had a friend who hunted, and one winter he showed up at my apartment with a cooler full of venison steaks wrapped in butcher paper like contraband.
He said if I didn't cook it right, I'd ruin it, which was encouraging.
I'd never cooked game meat before, and I was half convinced it would taste like the woods smelled after it rained, which isn't necessarily a bad thing but also isn't what you want from dinner.
I looked up a bunch of recipes, most of which involved complicated marinades or slow roasting, and then I said screw it and decided to treat it like a really good steak.
Cold meat in a hot pan = tough, unevenly cooked disappointment.
I seasoned it with just salt and pepper, heated a cast iron skillet until it was screaming hot, and seared it hard on both sides.
The smell that came off it was incredible, almost sweet but also deeply savory, like caramelized meat with a hint of something wild underneath.
I pulled it at medium-rare because venison has almost no fat, and if you cook it past that, it turns into shoe leather.
When I sliced into it, the center was this beautiful deep pink, and I knew I hadn't screwed it up.
My friend tried a piece and nodded approvingly, which was the closest thing to a compliment I was going to get.
You want a crust on the outside and rare to medium-rare on the inside.
Anything more is a waste of good meat.
The red wine broth idea came later, when I was trying to figure out what to do with the rest of the venison.
I'd been making a lot of ramen at that point, and I thought, why not treat it like a French-style game dish but put it in a bowl with noodles?
I used a full-bodied red wine, something with enough tannins to match the venison's intensity, and reduced it down with beef stock, garlic, thyme, and a handful of wild mushrooms I'd found at the farmers market.
The broth turned this deep, almost black-red color, and it smelled like a cabin in the woods where someone very competent was making dinner.
Cooking wine is a scam.
If it tastes bad in the glass, it'll taste bad in your broth.
I served it to someone I was trying to impress on what I guess you'd call a date, though we didn't use that word at the time.
I wanted to make something that felt special without being fussy, and this hit the mark.
The venison was tender and rich, the broth was deep and complex, and the noodles made it feel less like fine dining and more like comfort food that happened to be fancy.
We ate it by candlelight, not because I'm romantic but because my overhead light was broken, and it turned out candlelight is extremely forgiving when you're nervous about whether your cooking is good enough.
She said it was the best thing I'd ever made for her, which might have been true or might have just been the wine talking, but I took it either way.
Venison ramen became my secret weapon after that, the thing I'd make when I wanted to show off without admitting I was showing off.
And it worked every time.
Ingredients
- 1 lb venison loin or tenderloin, cut into 4 medallions
- 2 tablespoons neutral oil (such as grapeseed or avocado oil)
- 1.5 teaspoons kosher salt (divided, plus more to taste)
- 3/4 teaspoon black pepper (divided)
- 1 tablespoon unsalted butter
- 1 medium shallot, finely diced
- 4 cloves garlic, minced
- 2 cups mixed wild mushrooms (such as chanterelle, porcini, or oyster), sliced
- 1.5 cups dry red wine (such as Pinot Noir, Merlot, or Cabernet Sauvignon)
- 4 cups beef broth (preferably low-sodium)
- 3 sprigs fresh thyme
- 2 sprigs fresh rosemary
- 1 bay leaf
- 1 tablespoon tomato paste
- 1 tablespoon soy sauce
- 1 teaspoon balsamic vinegar
- 2 packages (6–8 oz total) fresh ramen noodles, or 2 bricks instant ramen noodles (seasoning packets discarded)
- 1 cup roasted root vegetables (carrots, parsnips, or turnips), cut into bite-sized pieces
- Fresh thyme leaves for garnish
Preparation
- Remove the venison medallions from the refrigerator and let them sit at room temperature for 15–20 minutes. Pat them dry with paper towels and season generously on both sides with 1 teaspoon salt and 1/2 teaspoon black pepper.
- Heat the neutral oil in a large cast iron skillet or heavy-bottomed pan over high heat until shimmering and almost smoking. Sear the venison medallions for 2–3 minutes per side for medium-rare (internal temperature should reach 130–135°F). Remove from the pan, tent with foil, and let rest while you prepare the broth.
- In the same skillet (don't clean it—those browned bits are flavor), reduce heat to medium and add the butter. Once melted, add the diced shallot and sauté for 2–3 minutes until softened.
- Add the minced garlic and sliced mushrooms. Cook for 4–5 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the mushrooms have released their moisture and begun to brown.
- Stir in the tomato paste and cook for 1 minute until it darkens slightly and becomes fragrant.
- Pour in the red wine, scraping up all the browned bits from the bottom of the pan. Let the wine simmer for 5–6 minutes until reduced by about half.
- Add the beef broth, thyme sprigs, rosemary sprigs, bay leaf, soy sauce, remaining 1/2 teaspoon salt, and remaining 1/4 teaspoon black pepper. Bring to a simmer and cook for 12–15 minutes to let the flavors concentrate and meld.
- Remove the herb sprigs and bay leaf from the broth. Stir in the balsamic vinegar. Taste and adjust seasoning with additional salt and pepper as needed.
- Cook the ramen noodles according to package instructions (typically 3–4 minutes in boiling water). Drain and divide among serving bowls.
- Ladle the hot red wine broth and mushrooms over the noodles. Add the roasted root vegetables to each bowl. Slice the rested venison medallions into thick slices and arrange them on top of the noodles.
- Garnish with fresh thyme leaves and any optional toppings. Serve immediately while the broth is hot and the venison is still warm.