And the reality of Rocky Mountain oysters
By Rachel Hergett EBS COLUMNIST
I was mostly raised in Bozeman, a town now often referred to as “Bozangeles” and considered to be 15 minutes from Montana—though that travel time may have increased with the traffic in recent years. You can see the edges of a wilder Montana from these busy streets, peek at the mountain ranges surrounding the Gallatin Valley or stumble on little pockets of land still dedicated to agriculture.
I say “mostly raised in Bozeman” because I’m blessed with an extensive and tight-knit family, one that happily welcomed an extra hand on the family farm and ranch in the summers. I have fond memories of driving tractors, feeding cattle and irrigating fields. And I have less fond memories of cleaning out the once barley-filled silos, baking as the sun heated the metal and itching incessantly as the barley bristles poked their way through my clothes.
In the evening, when tasks were done for the day, we would sit around the old farmhouse table and my great uncle would extol his profession over a hearty meal mostly consisting of beef and potatoes. Here, I learned the importance of knowing not only where your food comes from, but the people and the work it takes to get it to your table. I have very much had that work on my brain lately—and not the more modern kind that involves driving air-conditioned tractors while blaring country music from the radio.
Montana, to me, is exemplified by two things: mountains and cows. Though the gap is narrowing, it remains true that the state has more cows than people. The U.S. Census Bureau estimates Montana’s population as 1,144,694 as of July 2025. The United States Department of Agriculture’s 2025 state agriculture overview lists 2,140,000 head of cattle, including calves. With the presence of cattle comes the somewhat vicious—though necessary—practice of branding.
The 2013 Smithsonian magazine article “Decoding the Range: The Secret Language of Cattle Branding” first describes branding as an antiquated practice. “Livestock branding dates back to 2700 BC, evidenced by Ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics. Ancient Romans are said to have used hot iron brands as an element of magic,” according to the article by Jimmy Stamp. “But brands are most associated with the cowboys and cattle drives of the Old West, when brands were used to identify a cow’s owner, protect cattle from rustlers (cattle thieves), and to separate them when it came time to drive to market (or rail yards or stock yards).”
But there is no “when” here. Branding in the new West is still used for all of these things. Even cattle rustling still happens. In one quite modern instance, my great uncle had entered an agreement to graze his cattle on someone else’s land, but was refused access when it was time to retrieve them. The stand-off ended when he stole back his own cattle, an event leading to many lively discussions on what constitutes a cattle rustler—specifically if you’ve earned the term if the cows you swipe under cover of darkness are technically your own.
Earlier this month, I was invited to branding at a friend’s family ranch in southeastern Montana. Branding is a production. Once rounded up and penned, calves are roped and held down to be marked with hot irons in the shapes and/or letters of a ranch’s brand. They are also tagged, vaccinated, and—if they are unlucky enough to be male—castrated.
“That’s where you’ll find the freshest Rocky Mountain Oysters,” a neighbor told me as I packed my car to head to the ranch.
For those uninitiated in the lingo, a Rocky Mountain oyster is not seafood at all. It is a bull testicle—often skinned and deep fried. In that preparation, they mainly taste like slightly beefy grease with a chewy texture like calamari. At the ranch, I watched one of the cowboys at this most recent branding take a freshly cut set and cook it on the branding iron furnace. I have to admit I was too intimidated to ask for a taste of the delicacy at its source. I’m kicking myself for that now.
If you’re curious to give them a try, look for an event marketed as a “Testicle Festival.” Many of these are inspired by a weekend party that used to be held at Rock Creek Lodge near Missoula and involve music, beer and Rocky Mountain oysters. The Old Saloon in Emigrant now hosts one as an annual benefit for testicular cancer research and the Alpha Gamma Rho fraternity at Montana State University hosts one to honor Montana’s agricultural history.
I only know of one place where you can always find Rocky Mountain oysters to try if you’re intrigued. They’re still on the menu at Stacey’s Old Faithful Bar and Steakhouse at 300 Mill Street in Gallatin Gateway, off U.S. Highway 191 between Bozeman and Big Sky. Though under new ownership, the place keeps namesake Stacey Crosby’s love for cowboy culture and rodeo alive, and the website uses his description, “where the West is still the West.” Balls and all.
Rachel Hergett is a foodie and cook from Montana. She is arts editor emeritus at the Bozeman Daily Chronicle and has written for publications such as Food Network Magazine and Montana Quarterly. Rachel is also the host of the Magic Monday Show on KGLT-FM and teaches at Montana State University.
