Friday, 15 December 2017

Bob Comes Home And Pulls A Rabbit Out Of His Hat.

Well, bag actually...

A couple of days ago my one and only came home all excited and handed over a freezer bag which left me all agog. Ice cream? But no, we had been given a present of a rabbit. Not just any rabbit but an organic rabbit to eat. Somehow that makes me think of it hopping gaily about the meadow munching on several delicious bits of corn and wheat with the odd carrot in between.

An old episode of Midsomer Murder flashed through my mind and it made me ask:

" Schatzi, is there still some buckshot in it? "
" Of course not! This is an organic rabbit. "
but I could sense that he wasn't so sure. Before you say it, the same thought flashed through my mind...how on earth could I eat a cute little bunny? Yet, how hypocritical of me. Without a care in the world I eat grilled chicken, homemade hamburgers and bacon for a fry up. If I eat any of those than I shouldn't balk at eating rabbit.

Both of us set off on another culinary adventure and were asking advise from those in the know ( or those who should know ) but mum admitted that she'd never cooked a rabbit. The trusty internet won and as I had a late lesson, Bob made the stew. Secretly I was pleased as the animal still had to be portioned off. Don't ask!

I came home last night to a most delicious aroma wafting about the house. Bob kept adding a pinch of this and that which gave the stew a wonderful flavour. Eventually it was perfected and draped gracefully over a portion of rice. Somehow both of us were a tad bit hesitant at first.

If I couldn't eat rabbit meat then I should stop eating chicken, beef or pork too. Those neighbourhood flock of chickens clucking at me as I walk past them are cuter than cute, cows are adorable and even pigs can make divine pets. Eating rabbit meat made me think of a whole lot of cliches we hide behind with our insatiable appetite for meat.

Perhaps the answer to curbing this insane consumption of meat would be to kill our own chickens, cows and pigs...not as comfortable and easy as popping round to the local supermarket.

Biggi