Blue Babe: The Remarkable Tale of a 50,000-Year-Old Bison and Its Unconventional Culinary Adventure

Blue Babe, a mummified steppe bison dating back 50,000 years, surfaced in 1979 when gold miners stumbled upon it north of Fairbanks, Alaska.

Evidence of claw and tooth marks on the bison's rear end pointed to its demise at the hands of a North American lion—an extinct Ice Age feline that exceeded the modern lion in size by 25%. Astonishingly, the lion succeeded in cracking open the bison's carcass, primarily targeting the muscle within the rib and upper limb regions. However, the swift freezing of the bison's remains posed a challenge for scavengers, thwarting their attempts to fully consume it.

Fast forward to 1984, a team of paleontologists decided to undertake a unique culinary venture, opting to cook and savor a portion of Blue Babe's neck muscle. The occasion served as a tribute to [taxidermist] Eirik Granqvist's work with Blue Babe and was attended by both him and Bjorn Kurten. R. Dale Guthrie, a zoology professor emeritus at the University of Alaska, recounted the event as follows:

"To commemorate and honor Eirik Granqvist's remarkable work with Blue Babe, we organized a special bison stew dinner for him and Bjorn Kurten... A small segment of the mummy's neck was meticulously diced and gently simmered in a pot filled with stock and vegetables. Blue Babe graced our dinner table that evening. The meat, while suitably aged, retained a slight toughness, infusing the stew with a potent Pleistocene essence. Nevertheless, none among us would have dreamt of missing out on this culinary adventure.

The meat within the bison's abdomen had unfortunately spoiled before the carcass could freeze entirely. However, in the neck region, we unearthed small fragments of meat still clinging to the skull. The lions had left so little behind that it had frozen while still fresh. Upon thawing, it exuded an unmistakable beefy fragrance, pleasantly intermingled with a faint earthy undertone from its place of discovery, complemented by a subtle hint of mushroom. On April 6, 1984, roughly a dozen of us assembled to partake in a Bison priscus stew. The flavor was exquisite, and none of us experienced any adverse effects from this unique meal."