In Vermont, the tradition of hunting is still going strong, with men and women heading out into the woods each Fall hoping to make a good shot.

Using a gun or bow is one way to pack a freezer full of wild game. But there is another way too, one that even a vegetarian might appreciate—at least for the economy of it. It follows the maxim: Waste not want not. It’s roadkill.

Each game warden in the state has a list of people to call when there is a road accident that involves a deer or moose. Once comprised of only butchers, today the list is open to anyone—anyone willing to receive a call, often in the wee hours of the morning, that will require them to scramble out of pajamas and into boots and coat and into the night to pick up the game.

“First dibs always go to the driver,” says Game Warden Justin Stedman. Or, “if it’s mangled and I wouldn’t eat it myself,” he says, “I won’t give it to someone else to eat.” Most often, though, Stedman is making a call to someone noted on his list. Once the person picks up the animal—or sometimes Stedman is able to make a home delivery—it’s either processed at home or brought to a butcher

Butcher Bill Lake, owner of Simply Meats, in Rutland, Vermont, has seen 30 deer, three moose, and even two bear in the past year alone, each passed along to a customer from a game warden. Lake’s main business involves processing purchased beef and poultry and he also takes care of wild animals, from hunters and from customers on the roadkill distribution list.

For the wild animals, Lake must follow strict regulations, such as making sure the animal has a paper tag filled out by the game warden showing that the animal was acquired legally. “I have to make sure the animal has a bona fide tag, and it has to be attached to the deer, physically attached to the deer,” the butcher says.

If the tag is in place, the next step is to make sure the animal is worth processing, especially in the case of roadkill. “If you get a 100-pound deer that’s been broadsided by a truck going 60 miles per hour, it’s probably not going to be worth processing because of the internal damage,” says Lake.

“Usually my nose tells me all I need to know about the poor deer,” he adds. “The person bringing the deer in can’t see beneath the skin,” he says, “and they don’t know what to look for. If the urine sack is busted or if the paunch [stomach] has exploded, the meat isn’t going to be any good,” says Lake. “The meat absorbs whatever it touches,” he explains. “I have no qualms in telling them it’s not feasible.”

Otherwise, though, if the animal is in okay shape, Lake will “cut, pack, wrap, and label,” he says. “We skin ‘em out, bone it out, and then cut individual pieces into shoulder steaks, top rounds, sirloin strips, and more. Whatever you might find for beef in a grocery store,” he says. It’s a professional job. The meat is placed on foam trays, wrapped in clear plastic, and a computer-generated label identifies the cut of meat.

With a 100-pound deer, you would probably get 40 to 50 pounds back in boneless meat, Lake says, and it costs about $70 to have the animal processed at his shop.

“There is the old adage that you just take the hind quarters of an animal and throw the rest away,” says Lake, talking about hunters in the region. The desire to change this inspired him to get into meat processing so many years ago. “If you’re going to kill the animal anyway, you might was well get the most out of the animal,” he says. This applies to animals taken in hunting season and it also applies to roadkill.

Vermonter Bob Gaudette, Sr., feels the same way about using as much of the animal as possible. Processing the meat himself, he is careful to take care of it quickly to avoid spoilage, even in the wintertime when it might keep a little longer.

Game Warden Justin Stedman delivered a deer to Gaudette two days earlier and already it’s mostly just bones hanging from the ceiling of his garage. The small refrigerator nearby is filled with neat paper packages, each marked with a V for venison plus a description of the cut of meat inside—shoulder roast, neck roast, hamburger, tenderloin, and large and small steaks. “With my own family of three,” Gaudette says, “we probably get 25, maybe 30, meals from one deer.”

Not only does Gaudette process his own meat but he uses just one knife to do the whole job. It’s a nine-inch blade and the handle itself is made of deer antlers. The 44 year old Vermonter has been hunting nearly his whole life, since the age of thirteen, so he definitely knows his way around a deer carcass.

And Gaudette enjoys cooking the meat. “I love makin’ the stew,” Gaudette says, “and it smells nice.” He likes all of the venison dishes, but the shoulder roast fried with onion might be his favorite. “With that, the onion goes right through,” he says, and adds “oh yeah,” as he loses himself in thought. Maybe he’s thinking back to the last time he created this dish or maybe he’s thinking of the meal he’ll make his family tonight. Either way, this Vermont recipe calls for fresh venison—no hunting required.