Venison Pot Pie
I'm a glutton for pie—always have been. When I travel, I skip the fancy restaurants and hunt for comfort food instead.
Hand-sized mince pies in New Zealand. Steak and kidney pies in Irish pubs. Each country's version of "wrap something delicious in pastry and call it dinner."
Venison pot pie is my love letter to all of them. Rich, dark meat that actually tastes like something.
Why venison works here
Pot pie is one of those recipes where venison's lean nature becomes an advantage instead of a challenge.
You're braising the meat in liquid, which means it stays tender.
That deep, mineral-rich flavor doesn't get lost under cream and vegetables—it becomes the backbone of the whole dish.
The key is cutting your venison into chunks that are bigger than you think they should be. They'll shrink as they cook, and you want actual bites of meat in there, not shredded threads. About 1-inch cubes work perfectly.
The vegetables
I use carrots, onions, mushrooms, and peas because each one does a specific job. Carrots add sweetness that balances venison's earthiness.
Onions build the base flavor. Mushrooms add umami and make the filling taste richer without adding fat. Peas give you those little bursts of brightness.
You can absolutely add celery for more aromatics, or potatoes if you want it heartier. But don't skip the mushrooms—they're doing more work than you think.
The filling
Brown the venison first. Always.
This isn't optional—those caramelized bits stuck to the pan become the foundation of your gravy, and with venison's deep flavor, you want every bit of that fond in your sauce.
This is where chicken pot pie can't compete.
Get your pan screaming hot. Don't crowd the meat. You want a hard sear on at least two sides of each piece.
If the pan's too crowded, you'll steam instead of sear, and you'll lose all that flavor.
After the venison comes out, sauté your vegetables in the same pan. Then build your gravy right on top of all those brown bits. Flour, stock, cream—let it simmer until it coats the back of a spoon.
When you add the venison back in, it should look thick enough that you wonder if you've gone too far.
You haven't. It'll thin slightly as it cools, and you want it to hold together in the pie, not run all over the plate.
The crust situation
I make my own bottom crust because store-bought tastes like cardboard, and venison deserves better.
A proper butter crust with a little salt adds flavor, not just structure. But the top? Puff pastry from the freezer section. Homemade puff pastry is a religious experience I don't have time for.
The trick with homemade pie crust is keeping everything cold. Cold butter. Cold water.
If your dough starts warming up while you're working it, stick it back in the fridge. Warm dough means tough crust.
Form it into a disc, wrap it, and refrigerate while your filling simmers. This does two things: it lets the gluten relax so the crust doesn't shrink when you bake it, and it keeps the butter solid so you get flaky layers.
Assembly
Blind bake the bottom crust while your filling cools. This is non-negotiable if you don't want a soggy bottom.
Prick it with a fork, line it with parchment, fill with pie weights or dried beans, and bake until it's just starting to turn golden.
Let your filling cool completely before you add it to the crust.
I know it's tempting to skip this step, but hot filling in a pie shell means the bottom crust steams instead of staying crisp. Give it 30 minutes on the counter, or stick it in the fridge if you're in a hurry.
Top with puff pastry, cut a few vents so steam can escape, and brush with egg wash.
The egg wash isn't just for looks—it creates a barrier that keeps the pastry crisp even while the filling bubbles underneath.
Bake until the top is deep golden brown and you can see the filling bubbling through the vents.
This usually takes 35-40 minutes. If the edges start browning too fast, tent them with foil.
What you end up with
A pot pie with actual character. The venison gives you flavor that chicken never could.
The gravy tastes like something you worked for. The crust shatters when you cut into it, then soaks up just enough sauce to be perfect.
It looks upscale but tastes wild—in the best way. And unlike those meat pies I ate overseas, this one's made from an animal you brought home yourself.
Venison Butchering Diagram
Download my complete venison cut diagram showing every primal cut and the best cooking methods for each—from tenderloin steaks to ground shoulder.
Venison Pot Pie
Ingredients
- For the Filling
- For the Base
- For the Top
Method
- Cube the butter and add to a food processor along with the flour.
- Add little bits of water at a time. You want the dough to pull away from the sides, but not be too wet. You can also do this with your hands and work the butter in with your fingers, but be sure to keep it cold.
- Shape the dough into a disc (2 discs if you are also using it for the top). Wrap tight with plastic wrap and place in fridge.
- Cube the venison in larger than normal cubes.
- Heat the oil on a cast iron or carbon steel pan over high heat.
- Season the venison generously with the salt and pepper.
- Working in batches add the venison to the pan and brown all sides.
- When all browned remove and lower the temperature of the pan. Add the bacon and render the fat.
- Remove the bacon once rendered and add the carrots and mushrooms. Cook until caramelized.
- Remove from the pan when caramelized and add the onions, garlic and butter. Cook until translucent then add the flour and cook for 2 minutes.
- Slowly start adding the stock, constantly stirring to avoid lumping.
- Return everything to the pan and simmer for about 2 hours until the venison is tender.
- Set aside and allow to cool to room temperature.
- Remove the pastry from the fridge and roll out to the size of your pan including the sides.
- Grease the pan lightly and place the pastry in. Dock pastry and blind bake for 30 minutes at 390°F.
- Remove and allow to cool before filling.
- Once filled add the topping and score slightly.
- Bake 390°F for about 30 minutes.