Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall
LATIN NAME
Oryctolagus cuniculus
SEASONALITY
All year round; best late summer to winter
HABITAT
Common and widespread
MORE RECIPES
Roasted chilli mole; Pheasant pie; Rabbit ragu with tarragon; Braised rabbit with turnips; Chicken and cider stew with rosemary dumplings; Squirrel and beans on toast
SOURCING
Before I tell you what a delicious, wholesome and versatile meat rabbit is, I want to make it clear that I am talking exclusively about the wild creature. I don’t consider farmed rabbit to be the same – and I don’t view it as an acceptable choice, either. Most of the farmed rabbit sold in the UK comes from the Continent, from animals kept in cages and fattened on pelleted feeds. It’s a cruel system that produces flabby, flavourless flesh. The meat is also paler, and the animals larger, than wild rabbit – so it’s fairly easy to spot. Even if conditions were better, farming rabbit seems like folly to me when we have healthy, wild rabbit – not just plentiful but often troublesomely over-abundant.
Wild rabbit has the depth of flavour that all grass-fed wild meat shares – and is also readily and cheaply available. Even if you’re ordinarily a little shy of game, rabbit is a great entry-level ingredient, more delicate than much other wild flesh, with a comfortingly chickeny texture.
Yet rabbit still only bobs about on the fringes of even the most committed carnivorous diet. This is, no doubt, partly down to mawkishness (‘but they’re so cute’) though it can’t be the whole story. Lambs and chicks and even piglets are just as endearing and we don’t seem to have much trouble eating them. A more profound issue, I think, is that non-farmed meat is increasingly an anomaly in our diets. Many of us are distrustful of food that has not been manipulated and processed in some industrial system. But that’s the wrong way round, surely?
It’s certainly true that wild rabbit offers a different experience to farmed flesh. There’s not a lot of lard on a bunny and you shouldn’t expect it to be super-succulent. But if you add a little supplementary fat, you can render it tender and moist as well as flavourful. Streaky bacon or pancetta goes into most of my rabbit stews, but liquid lubrication works well too: consider yoghurt, cream or coconut milk.
If I find myself with a rabbit that I’m sure is still in the first flush of youth, I often roast it. Wrapped in streaky bacon and given a fast, hot blast in the oven, it can be wonderful. But my default way of cooking this animal is slow and low, in some kind of a stew. Keeping it at a tremulous simmer is the safest way to save the meat from dryness and toughness. Check on it several times: some rabbit is tender in an hour, but an older animal can take two, sometimes more.
As with any shot animal, you must look out for the little balls of lead shot and bits of sharp bone in the meat. Alternatively, try one of the many recipes – such as a rabbit pie – that calls for jointed pieces of rabbit to be cooked, then the meat stripped off the bones. I often do this when I’ve stewed a rabbit and want to make a family-friendly meal of it. The picked-over meat goes back in the lovely sauce and my stew becomes a ragu – very often served with pasta, or mash, or, most agreeably, wet polenta. And once in a while I like to whittle the rabbit meat off the bones before cooking, mince it, mix with some decent sausagemeat and use it to make bunny burgers – just delicious.
Technically, rabbit is vermin, rather than game (it’s a great nuisance to farmers, especially market gardeners trying to grow vegetables) and there is no closed season for it. However, I avoid rabbit between March and July when the does are likely to be carrying or feeding young. I particularly like rabbits shot in the early autumn, which are usually pleasingly plump from their summer grazing.
There are various ways to acquire rabbit, including shooting it yourself. That is something you should only undertake with an appropriate gun, certification, permission and knowledge of the area you’re shooting in – not to mention a reasonable level of skill with the weapon you are using. A quicker way is to order rabbit from a butcher or game dealer, and there are lots of good online sources of wild rabbit these days too. You can buy the whole animal ‘in the fur’, or you can ask for a skinned, de-headed carcass, or choose a rabbit that has already been cut up into joints.
The advantage to skinning the rabbit yourself is that it’s much easier to judge the age when the creature is still entire. And age has a significant effect on tenderness. With a young rabbit, you should be able to tear the ears fairly easily, and the claws should be smooth and sharp. Young ’uns are also much easier to skin than a big old buck or doe, for whom you will have to apply some strength to prise the skin away.
Preparing a rabbit
Rabbits should be gutted as soon as they are killed. If you’ve shot the rabbit yourself, the first thing you should do is empty its bladder so urine cannot taint the meat. Turn the rabbit on its back and apply pressure between its hind legs, over the bladder, to release what may be quite a considerable quantity of liquid. Then, make a long cut with a very sharp knife – just through the skin – from the urinary tract up to the base of the breast bone. Pull out the stomach and intestines. Discard the lungs but keep the heart, kidneys and liver. Rinse the cavity as soon as you get to a stream or a tap.
To skin the animal, first cut off all four feet, above the ‘knees’. Lay the rabbit on its back and make a slit across the belly and the tops of the thighs. Pull the skin down and off the legs like a pair of tights. Then turn the rabbit over, get a good grip on the skin and pull it down towards the head as far as it will go. Ease out the front legs. Cut off the head (skinned, this can be used in stock).
To joint the rabbit, cut between the ball and socket joints that connect the rear legs to the hips and remove the legs. Cut off the front legs behind the shoulder muscles. Cut away the thin flaps of meat that join the ribs to the belly (keep these for cooking, or for stock). Chop off the thin, bony section of ribcage from the body (again, good for stock), then cut the remaining meaty ‘saddle’ into two pieces.
RABBIT WITH ANCHOVIES, ROSEMARY AND CREAM
Salty, sweet anchovies work well in this rich dish, rounding out the flavour without being overpowering or fishy. You can also make it with a couple of plump squirrels. Serves 2–4
1 rabbit, jointed
8–10 anchovy fillets in oil
2 medium onions, thinly sliced
3 garlic cloves, finely chopped or grated
1 medium-hot red chilli, deseeded and sliced
1–2 bay leaves, torn
3–4 sprigs of rosemary
200ml double cream
Sea salt and black pepper
Put the rabbit pieces on a plate, trickle over 2 tbsp of the oil from the anchovies and season well with salt and pepper. Turn the rabbit pieces over in the oil and seasoning. Heat a flameproof casserole dish over a medium heat, add the rabbit pieces and brown them well all over. Remove the rabbit and set aside.
Add the onions to the casserole, with a splash more oil if needed. Cook gently for about 8 minutes until they begin to soften, then add the garlic and chilli and cook for a further few minutes. Return the rabbit pieces to the pan, along with any juices that have seeped from them. Add 800ml water, the bay leaves and rosemary and bring to a simmer. Put a lid on the pan but leave it slightly ajar to allow some steam to escape. Turn the heat down low and cook for about an hour, until the rabbit is beginning to feel tender.
Add the cream and cook, uncovered, for a further 30–45 minutes or until the rabbit is completely tender. The sauce should have reduced to a nice coating consistency. If it’s not quite there, remove the rabbit to a warm dish and simmer the sauce until it has thickened, then return the rabbit to the casserole. Add the anchovy fillets and check the seasoning.
Serve with sauté potatoes and a green salad.
