Adventure of a Different Kind

2/18/07

Today was grey and drizzly. I didn’t really mind, as the bleak days give me a reason to stay inside and read. When I hiked down the hill to take the rubbish and the recycling out, I did take a walk down to the Salamander River. It is so quiet there. There was no sound at all but the drip of the rain, the rushing of the swollen river, and the repetitive song cycle of the goldfinches. Yes, there are sunny weekdays with roaring motorcycles and whining chain saws. But today (Sunday)—blessed peacefulness. It has its own sound, of course. But it’s a sound that makes you want to take a deep breath and close your eyes and sit for a while. When I hear that, I wonder why the hell I ever wanted to live in a city.

This next bit is probably not for those who are sentimental about Disneyesque furry woodland creatures, who have just seen the movie “Mrs. Potter,” or who have a fond childhood memory of the stories of Pierre Lapin. (That’s most likely you, niece-lets.)

Yesterday, I decided to be adventuresome and cook some rabbit. Here in France, it’s in the grocery stores packaged up, just like chicken or pork in the US. The package I bought was labeled “Lapin Sautee” and the meat looked like skinless chicken thighs, so I felt pretty sure I could handle it. I figured I’d make a stew and it wouldn’t look like Br’er Rabbit in the pot.

So first I sautéed a pot-a-feu with onions, celery, carrots, and wine. Then I took the rabbit out of its packaging. And got a little squeamish. You see, those of us in the US are used to animals that are bred (with all those hormones and chemicals) to have a lot of meat on their bones. We’re not used to seeing a package of what amounted to several rabbit rib cages split in half by the breastbone with sidemeat. And livers intact. I know Julia Child rolled in her grave when I threw the livers out. Then I braced myself, and seared the rabbit rib cages. I put more liquid in the pot and simmered it for 20 minutes or so.

I couldn’t quite make myself eat it yesterday, so tonight I added carrots, wine and potatoes to the pot, and heated it all up again. I put four pieces (read two rabbits) on my plate, and scraped the meat off the rib cages (not much there, my friends). I took the bones off my plate so I wouldn’t have to look at them. I ate the meat (it tasted like pork in wine sauce to me!) and some carrots and potatoes. Then I scraped the meat off the remaining six pieces (read three rabbits) and made a stew, adding raisins and berry jelly for sweetness. I figure I might be able to eat it tomorrow, if it looks less like a furry woodland creature. (I never saw “Bambi” as a kid, but I know who Thumper was, and what he looked like. Believe me, if I had been eating plump little Thumper, I wouldn’t have needed so many pieces of meat.)

Oh, and just now, like every evening, I heard a gun shot in the mountains. It’s the locals, shooting the wild boar. We’ll see if I ever get offered a chance to eat wild Wilber.