© 2024 St. Louis Public Radio
Play Live Radio
Next Up:
0:00
0:00
0:00 0:00
Available On Air Stations

Better than chicken: Missouri frog hunters have filled empty bellies for generations

Christine Hibler, conservation agent with the Missouri Department of Conservation, grips onto a frog while hunting in BK Leach Conservation Area in Foley, Missouri on Wednesday, July 10, 2024.
Sophie Proe
/
St.Louis Public Radio
Christine Hibler, conservation agent with the Missouri Department of Conservation, keeps a grip on a frog while hunting in BK Leach Conservation Area in Foley on July 10.

It’s the middle of the night, and Christine Hibler and Scott Boyd are gearing up to trudge through a marsh outside St. Charles. The water is eerily calm — a sign that the night's frog hunt might be a letdown.

“We just got a fish basket and some gigs and headlamps and ready to get started,” Boyd said. “Hopefully we find some. They're real quiet right now, which isn't good.”

Each summer, thousands of Missourians spend their nights hunting frogs. They use long poles with three-pronged spears — known as gigs — to catch them. Boyd works for the Missouri Department of Conservation and teaches people the proper way to hunt frogs. While some opt for guns or fishing poles, conservation educator Boyd said gigging is the most popular method.

Christine Hibler, conservation agent with the Missouri Department of Conservation, hunts for frogs while in BK Leach Conservation Area in Foley, Missouri on Wednesday, July 10, 2024.
Sophie Proe
/
St.Louis Public Radio
Christine Hibler, conservation agent with the Missouri Department of Conservation, hunts for frogs in BK Leach Conservation Area in Foley on July 10.

“One of the great things about frog gigging is … it doesn't take a lot of equipment and it doesn't take a whole lot of skill,” Boyd said. “You can learn how to do it really quick.”

The gigging season opened at sundown on June 30. Hibler, a conservation agent, had to work on opening day, but she’s making up for it now. Boyd trails behind as Hibler creeps through the marsh in wading boots. She scans the water, pausing when a bullfrog’s dark eyes shine in her flashlight beam.

“I got one,” Hibler whispered.

Since Boyd is closer, he jabs the gig into the frog's head.

“Oh, he's a big one!” Hibler said.

Scott Boyd, educator with the Missouri Dept. of Conservation, cuts open the frog's head in BK Leach Conservation Area in Foley, Missouri on Wednesday, July 10, 2024.
Sophie Proe
/
St.Louis Public Radio
Scott Boyd, educator with the Missouri Department of Conservation, cuts open the head of the lone frog the group hunted up on July 10.

Boyd plopped the “eater-sized” frog into a metal basket and continued into the water. Neither hunter got another frog that night. Instead, they will dethaw last season’s frog legs for dinner.

Boyd coats the skinned legs in mustard and batters them in bread crumbs. The leg pairs are cooked in a portable deep fryer near the hunting spot.

“One of the neat things about hunting and fishing is getting to share what you're lucky enough to harvest,” Hibler said during the hunt last month. “We went on a little weekend deal with a bunch of friends, and we brought frog legs … half the people had never had them, and they loved them.”

Scott Boyd, educator with the Missouri Dept. of Conservation, rubs mustard on the frog legs in BK Leach Conservation Area in Foley, Missouri before putting them in the pot to cook on Wednesday, July 10, 2024.
Sophie Proe
/
St.Louis Public Radio
Boyd rubs the frog legs with mustard in preparation for their dunk in the fryer.

Despite a tradition spanning generations, Hibler noticed a recent decline in frog gigging. Still, 17-year-old Tucker Lawson of Potosi looks forward to frog season every year.

“That’s all I’ve ever done,” he said. “You never really know what’s going to happen. It’s just different every time you go.”

He learned to gig and cook frogs from his mom, Melissa Lawson. For her, it’s more about the family recipe than the hunt.

“When I was little, I’d go out and I’d catch these frogs,” Melissa said. “My mom … had many an iron skillet. She’d fire that sucker up with lard, and she’d make up the batter. By golly when she got done we had a whole platter, a labor of love.”

Christine Hibler, conservation agent with the Missouri Department of Conservation, checks the oil to see if the temperature is ready to put the frog legs in BK Leach Conservation Area in Foley, Missouri on Wednesday, July 10, 2024.
Sophie Proe
/
St.Louis Public Radio
Hibler checks the oil temperature to see if it's ready for the frog legs. Fried frog is a staple across the state — and a regular menu item at Hodak's Restaurant & Bar in Benton Park.

Fried frog is a regular menu item at Hodak’s restaurant in St. Louis. While the frogs aren’t from local wetlands, they’re a staple dish for regular customers.

“They ask a lot of questions about frog legs if it’s their first time,” Hodak’s manager Tina Duka said. “But if they eat it one time, they know. A lot of people said that [frog legs] look like chicken … they taste like it.”

But for Boyd, frog gigging offers more than just a meal.

Left: Hibler bites into a fried frog leg. Right: Frog legs cook in oil in Foley, Missouri, on July 10.
Sophie Proe
/
St. Louis Public Radio
Hodak’s manager Tina Duka said the saying is true: Fried frog legs taste like chicken.

“It’s definitely baked into the culture,” Boyd said. “It feels very holistic. The decisions you make are ethical decisions to put food on the table. You can feel good about what you've done.”

Missouri marshes will fall quiet in winter, as hunting season ends at sunset on Oct. 31. Croaking choruses will return when the weather warms in May, revealing the most promising spots to the season’s hunters.

Frog hunting has fed generations of Missouri families

Lauren Brennecke is a general assignment reporter at St. Louis Public Radio and a recent graduate of Webster University.