When I tell someone how much I love
to eat rabbit I usually get one of two reactions. Either he wrinkles his nose, screws up his
face and envisions eating a giant rat or he puts on a sad clown face and
imagines the family pet going under the knife.
(See Kathy’s previous post about Mike’s reluctance to dine on rabbit).
Such was Tim’s reaction when we
invited him to dinner this weekend. He told the story of his father, a
gentleman farmer, who after experimenting with various forms of livestock many
years ago, decided to raise rabbits. One
day, the father told his sons he was going out to harvest some rabbits. The boys didn’t give it much thought until
later that night when they were served a funny looking chicken for dinner. With horror, Tim realized how his father had
spent the afternoon. “Is this Fluffy or
Snowball?” he sadly asked his dad.
People who don’t think twice about
eating a pig or a lamb get all misty eyed when faced with eating a fluffy
cousin of Bugs. Even my husband, usually
devoid of any sentimentality where pets are concerned, whined a bit about how
cute the rabbit I was struggling to butcher probably was at one point. “Poor fuzzy little thing,” He whimpered.
Granted, a whole frozen bunny looks
a bit scary on a butcher block but my love for rabbit has long outweighed any
squeamishness I may have early on about this underappreciated meat. I ordered it twice while in Italy
So when Kathy and I saw them for
sale recently at the Hollywood Farmer’s market I snapped up the last one,
bought a second later at a local butcher shop and started menu planning.
For the record, rabbits aren’t
rodents. They are members of the order Lagomorpha.
They also don’t taste like chicken. They are much, much better.
I promise I could make a convert
out of you.
Braised Rabbit with Lemons and
Rosemary
Serves 6 generously or 8.
Slightly adapted from Oranges
and Olives by Sara Jenkins and Mindy Fox (one of our favorite cookbooks).
The lemon peel in this recipe is
sublime with each bite of rabbit. As a result I’ve added more here than
originally called for. Jenkins and Fox
advise getting a nice brown crust on the rabbit before adding liquid—a step
that requires patience and not over-crowding the pan. Otherwise the meat steams
rather than browns.
This rabbit should be served with
polenta, rice or plain smashed potatoes. And for a bit of color and comedy,
roasted carrots are a great side.
4 Lemons, preferably organic,
unwaxed and unsprayed.
Two 2 ½ pound rabbits, cut
lengthwise in half then into 8 roughly equal pieces.
Kosher salt and fresh, coarsely
ground black pepper
¼ cup plus two tablespoons olive
oil
4 garlic cloves, peeled and smashed
8 fresh rosemary sprigs cut in half
crosswise
2 cups dry white wine
1 cup water
Note: I ended up using about 50%
more wine and water in the same proportions to yield enough volume to just
cover the meat.
Preheat oven to 350 degrees
Cut the peel from the lemon using a
vegetable peeler in wide vertical strips. Avoid the bitter white pith and set
aside.
Pat the rabbit dry and season with
salt and pepper. Heat the olive oil over high heat in a heavy enameled cast
iron Dutch oven (or other heavy pot).
Add 3-4 rabbit pieces and brown well on all sides (about 4-6 minutes per
side). Remove to a bowl as they are done and repeat with the remaining pieces.
Reduce heat to low and add the 2 tablespoons
of oil. Add the garlic, lemon peel and rosemary and cook, stirring occasionally,
until the garlic is slightly brown, about 2 minutes. Add wine, bring to a simmer, and scrape up
any brown bits on the bottom of the pan.
Add the rabbit pieces and any juices, putting the largest, meatiest pieces
on the bottom of the pan.
Add the water, bring to simmer,
cover and braise in oven until rabbit is tender, about one hour and 20 minutes.
Remove rabbit to a warm platter and
tent with foil. Return pot to the stovetop over high heat and reduce to one
cup, about 25 minutes.
Serve the rabbit with the juices
spooned over, being sure to include some lemon peel with each serving.
