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Posts Tagged ‘game pie’

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I love game. Let’s get that out of the way right up front, or this post won’t make any sense.* Elk, deer, alligator, goat, pheasant, moose, buffalo—love it all. Bring it.

It should be noted I did not grow up eating game. But I started reading pretty early, and was and still am a wild devotee of the Little House books by Laura Ingalls Wilder. So from very early on, the notion of preparing and very much enjoying meals that included game has never struck me as anything but normal. When I had the opportunity to try game for the first time, the luscious Game Pie filled with rabbit, duck and venison at Colonial Williamsburg’s King’s Arms Tavern, sweet Jesus I hope they never stop making it, I went for it. Rich rewards.

I say all this because game freaks out a lot of people—at least many I know. I’m not entirely sure why, although I suspect Madison Avenue’s been whispering Glade Bali Bloom air-freshened propaganda into our ears, making us believe game like rabbit is for lesser humans.

And if I can be frank, and I can since it’s my blog, that thinking is awfully short-sighted. Unless those critics’ descendants were Inuit or from an island where there aren’t any miniature mammals, they probably ate rabbit. Which means they’re alive on this planet because of it, so they should please check their snooty at the door.**

Those I know who will admit to eating game will say they’ll eat it as long as it doesn’t taste ‘too gamey.’ That’s their prerogative, but for my money, the gaminess is exactly what’s good about it—that non-homogenized pungency, that flavor that just insists its way onto your taste buds.

I chose this recipe as a part of my cooking project, detailed here. It’s courtesy of Johnnie Walker, purveyor of hot sauces and jellies (Two Mile Creek Specialty Foods), and resident of Colorado. He says, “I visited with my mom and pop…they ate lots of rabbit as kids during the Depression. In fact, my pop says that he ate so much rabbit as a kid, every time a dog barks, he JUMPS!!”

The trick, in a beach town, is getting hold of a rabbit. The only guns we fire around here are Nerf Super Soakers, and I’m happy to challenge the local status quo about lots of things, but not about this.

I called a local specialty butcher, who ordered a rabbit for me from upstate. It was a fattened, pen-raised rabbit which cost as much as a semester at Cornell, so if you’re a hunter or know an obliging one and can get your hands on a wild rabbit, go that route. It will likely be even more flavorful and less fatty (read: less tender), but no worries. It should still work with this recipe, since it calls for baking in a sauce in a covered dish. This will help to hold in juices in this very simple, home-style meal.

Stuff I did:

-Bought my supermarket’s best candidate for a ‘bold beer mustard’: Inglehofer Stone Ground Mustard, with ‘FULL STRENGTH’ wrapped helpfully around the lid three times.

-Used carrots as my root vegetable. Seemed a natural with rabbit 🙂 And used thyme for the poultry seasoning.

-Didn’t use any booze, just chicken stock. Don’t let me stop you, though.

As good as this was after it came out of the oven, I must admit I liked it even better cold and sliced for lunch. Scrumptious.

I was surprised, even after the liberal dousing of habanero jelly and mustard, that the dish wasn’t ablaze; it was very flavorful, but mellow (at least to my taste). If it’s not enough heat for you, slap on more of the jelly or mustard as you eat. Scroll down for the habanero jelly website.

TMC (Two Mile Creek) Baked Rabbit with Mustard and Habanero Glaze

1 whole rabbit, cut up
A breath or two of white wine (like 4-6 oz.) or a nice light beer (like half a bottle), plus a tbsp or two of chicken broth to deglaze
1/3 c butter, softened
1/3 c TMC habanero hot pepper jelly with whiskey-infused apricots
3 tbsp mustard (a good call here would be a bold beer mustard)
1 tsp salt
1 tsp pepper
½ c all-purpose flour
1 tsp poultry seasoning
1 tsp sweet paprika
Shortening, vegetable oil, bacon grease or duck fat for frying
Root vegetables like onions, leeks, carrots, baby red potatoes, etc. cut into chunks

Mix the butter, the jelly and the mustard together in a bowl. Set aside. In another bowl, stir together the dry ingredients.

Heat enough oil in a frying pan (or better yet, an oven-friendly frying pan!) to brown the rabbit pieces.

Dredge the rabbit pieces in the flour mixture and brown in the hot oil. Cook on each side for 1-2 minutes—less time for less crisp pieces and longer for a nice crisp piece of rabbit. Set the browned pieces aside.

Deglaze the frying pan with the wine, beer or chicken broth, or a combo. Scrape all of the bits up with the extra deglazing liquid. Set aside.

In the bottom of a casserole dish or Dutch oven, arrange your vegetables. Salt and pepper lightly. Take the deglazed bits you saved and pour this over the vegetables. Now place the rabbit pieces on top of the vegetables. Spoon or brush the butter/jelly mixture over it.

Cover the dish and place in a preheated 350 degree oven for 45 minutes. Remove the lid from the dish. You can flip the rabbit pieces at this time, if desired, and continue cooking for another 15-20 minutes or until the rabbit is tender and around 160-165 degrees.

When you plate the rabbit and the vegetables, pour the bottom juices and drippings in a gravy bowl or such style container for extra sauce.

Serves 3-4 city folks or 1-2 hungry Logan County farmers. You can substitute chicken or pheasant or even farm-raised goose for the rabbit. Squirrel is good too…cooking time will be less, though.

****************
Johnnie Walker
Logan County, CO
USA

twomilecreekspecialtyfoods.com

Thanks, Johnnie!

*Like I have such a track record for plausibility. Now isn’t the time to start making guarantees.

**Here in New Jersey people won’t eat rabbit but they’ll eat pork roll***.

***To non-residents of NJ: Pork roll is a very popular breakfast and sandwich meat of questionable origins. Then the manufacturers add salt and nitrates.

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Flying in the face of tradition today, kids. I’ve decided I’m going to make New Year’s resolutions that I can get stoked about. Why should I come up with some gruesome list that will make me feel panicky and guilty? I might as well stay behind in 2012 with a pocket flask of Tanqueray in my hand and the covers over my head. I refuse.

Instead, here are a bunch of good resolutions; and not surprisingly, they’re all food related.

I’m going to…

1. …bake bread more often. I miss punching down dough, I miss the smell of it browning up in the oven, and I miss pulling apart warm chunks of it and scooping up butter with it.

2. …cook some classic treats from the UK that I have always wanted to try—Dundee cake, Cornish pasties, pork and apple pie, maids of honour pastries, game pie and toad-in-the-hole with onion gravy.

3. …illustrate recipes for my posts, along with photos. I want to get back to where I started: with Ebony and Berol Prismacolor pencils.

4. …get my paring knives sharpened.

5. …freeze more of summer’s fresh produce for the winter. I used to do that and it saved me extra trips to the supermarket, was more nutritious, was better for the environment, supported local farms, and even saved money. Just took an hour of prep time each week. I’m chicken, because Hurricane Sandy just defrosted my freezer for 11 days. But I’m going to do it anyway.

6. …keep up with making up vanilla extract. I don’t buy the stuff from the supermarket because there’s a much cheaper way, and that is to buy a bottle of plain vodka and some vanilla pods, slice the beans in half lengthwise, and stick them in the vodka. Every few days give the bottle a shake, and after a couple of months the extract will be brown and murky, with happy little bits of pod and seed floating around in it. The bottle lives in your fridge and will always be there for you. Unless you’re me, and you’re down to the last 16 drops and don’t have a backup bottle ready to rock.

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Lame.

7. …bake treats on Valentine’s Day to give to my teeny town’s local cops and volunteer firemen. I had a stressful December and was only able to make a small plate of cookies for each over Christmas. When my boiler blew, the cops came over inside two minutes and duct-taped off my most hysterically spouting radiator. The firemen cheerfully changed the battery in my smoke detector, at 1am, on my narrow, hairpin-sharp angled steps. They’re amazing, selfless guys, and deserve more than I gave. I’m making it up to them in spades.

8. …have company over more often. There’s nothing like sitting around my dining room table with my favorite people, eating something sweet, and splitting our sides laughing. I want to have a chocolate-off with one group of friends this spring and a local hard-cider-off with another group this fall. It’s so much fun to gobble and sip, compare and contrast, and write about what I learned.

9. …make little coconut souffles for my sister’s birthday. You take them out of the oven and then you dig a little hole in the middle of each and pour warm chocolate goo into it. I have a sneaking suspicion she will find this appealing.

10. …figure out a way to make food—writing it, editing it and shooting it—a full-time gig.

11. …go out for Indian food again because I miss those flavors, try authentic ramen noodles in NYC, and have the lardo pizza—which is exactly what it sounds like—at Porta in Asbury Park, NJ.

12. …try not to roll my eyes when, at a restaurant that prides itself on serving genuine Italian food, the pasta carbonara sports a cream sauce with little bits of ham in it instead of egg and pancetta. (No promises, though. I’ve already fouled this up this once.)

13. …learn to make an old-fashioned candy called divinity.

14. …buy my eggs from local farmers once they’re in season, when the weather turns warm.

15. …make pumpkin butter with nutmeg, cinnamon and brown sugar and eat it straight out of the pan.

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Coming soon, to a kitchen near me.

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