Rich Rabbit Bolognese

Introduction:

It’s rabbit season, it’s duck season, it’s rabbit season, it’s duck season… as a kid I loved that cartoon and being brought up in Yorkshire also loved rabbit season, which was pretty much all year round. I loved the notion of hunting for food and would wake up at 5am on a Sunday morning in eager expectation for a morning’s shooting. With flasks of hot tea and coffee, snacks and hunting gear in hand we’d head off to the local farmer’s fields for a morning of hunting. The farmer would be happy for us to patrol his hectares of fields in order to remove the ‘peskies’ responsible for decimating his crops, and ultimately his livelihood. We were happy because it was a rich source of Sunday lunch.

Some folks get rather offended when the subject of shooting for food is raised, but if you eat meat I think that it’s hypocritical to bury your head in the sand and pretend that it magically and mysteriously appears from nowhere for purchase. No, from a young age I understood about where meat came from, and distinctly remember at the age of 10 bringing home a wood pigeon, plucking and gutting it and then having my mum roast it for Sunday lunch. Rabbit though was my favourite, and although I never had the rifle power or skill to shoot one at that age, they did adorn our table from time to time.

Roll on a few years, and to last week in particular. I had parked at my local shops, which just happened to be outside the butchers, and on returning to the car found a ticket taped to the side of my window – traffic inspectors are like ninjas in this area, appearing and vanishing in a cloud of smoke, leaving a reminder of your rule-breaking behind, in the form of a fine. Anyhow, on closer inspection the ticket was actually a note from the butcher,

“Nick, Nick, quick come inside before you go”

I have a fantastic local butcher that will move the earth to get me something if I require – the pig’s head was the best one. I knew that this prompt meant there’d be something good inside. Indeed when I walked in, there was a wink and a nod,

“Ah Nick, come over here!”

Presented before me were three perfect young rabbits, plucked, skinned and cleaned, having been shot the previous day up in the bushlands of Victoria.

“There you go mate”, he said.

When I get presents like this I usually just stand there with a massive beaming smile; it takes me back to a kid bringing home that freshly hunted Sunday lunch.

So, what did I do with the rabbits? Rabbit can be a tough little cookie if not cooked right, but the wild variety packs bags of gamey flavour so it’s well worth getting it right. To get the best out of it requires slow, low-temperature cooking. You can add some punchy flavours to complement it as it’s flavour can carry it through. Traditionally, in Yorkshire, we’d have rabbit stew, which worked perfectly with mirepoix flavours; carrot, celery and onion. Cooked for long enough the rabbit would fall off the bone and we’d lop up the stew broth with fresh bread.

I discovered a rabbit bolognese recipe about 3 years ago (none other than Jamie Oliver’s), and after a few tries modified it to get the consistency and flavours that launches your palette in to orbit. It involves cooking the rabbit for 12 hours on a very low temperature. You can cook the whole rabbit, but I find it’s better to joint it as some of the small bones can be incredibly difficult to remove from the final dish.

The bolognese uses a classic blend of mirepoix flavours with tomatoes and a good light ale. For enhanced flavour you can use herbs such as thyme, rosemary, parsley or oregano. The rabbit will also take the flavour of nutmeg or mace to add a little twist. This recipe is easy to set up, but a little finicky to finish. Stick with it, however, and you will be in for an incredible treat.