I have a fairly new blogging friend in the UK named Leslie. She and her husband are great chefs, hence the name of their blog, Cooking with the Joneses.
I love reading their recipes and seeing the usually delicious-looking pictures, and am often tempted to try one. So, if anyone could make cooked rabbit look or sound good to me, it would be the Joneses.
They have now posted a recipe for rabbit here.
But, I’m sorry to say, Leslie and Baz, it didn’t work. I still just can’t imagine eating rabbit.
And, let me tell you, this isn’t the first time I’ve resisted.
~ When Hubby and I were first married, he went rabbit hunting one Saturday at his parent’s farm. Being a 19 year old city girl, or maybe just being in denial, it never occurred to me that he might actually shoot a rabbit!
Several hours later, when he proudly walked in the front door of our apartment, which was the bottom floor of an old house (I tell you that to explain an apartment with a front and back door), he was carrying a plastic bag with a long naked body in it! It was a rabbit carcass! I remember how proud he looked, and then he began to talk about how we were going to cook it. I don’t remember exactly what I said, but I think I could sum it up this way, “NOT A CHANCE!” (possibly accompanied by tears). And then after whatever “discussion” we had, I next remember him walking out the back door to put “Bugs” in the trash and telling me, somewhat grumpily, that I should never tell his parents that we threw away good food! (I don’t remember them asking how we liked our rabbit dinner, so they may have suspected, or even privately predicted, what would happen. Remember, they knew me too!)
~ Then when DD and Gunny were approximately 8 and 10 years old, we had a rabbit take up residence in the back yard of our rural home, eating everything in sight. Several efforts to run it off had been unsuccessful. So, since I had become much more accepting of my farm boy’s ways, it didn’t surprise me when he said he was going to have to get rid of the rabbit. And, this time, he said HE WAS going to cook it!
Okay. I had become more realistic about the food chain than I had been as a young city girl, but I still just couldn’t imagine eating a rabbit. Well, Hubby had also learned and become more accepting of a few things about me. So, we came to an agreement … he cooked the rabbit and he and the kids ate it (and the kids even said they enjoyed it!) … while I went to the mall to shop. They had the kitchen all cleaned up, with all evidence of their meal gone, by the time I got home, with a cute new pair of shoes. Perfect.
Even though I was raised on beef, pork and chicken bought from the grocery store, 44 years of being married to Hubby has made me much more realistic about where my meat comes from. But I still just can’t get used to the idea of eating “wild stuff” … especially bunny rabbit.