Carrot Top

Yes, I've gotten rabbit from live poultry markets. Very good flavor, eons away from the frozen stuff.

I had a Ladies Lunch recently which I was really looking forward to, after all the lovely posts and fine thoughts. Reality did not reach the fantasies, though. The two other ladies wanted to go to Macado's. I persuaded them to try Thai, an elegant little place, with lovely food. Each one chose the very least expensive, smallest thing on the menu. I think actually, they were fearful or something, for they are not lacking in funds. The conversation went well enough, through the dull ache in my heart. It really felt as if something had been done wrong, by their choices of "cheapest and smallest". I simply could not overcome this feeling. I don't get it. Going from the idea of Macado's - huge portions of fat dullness, to my mind - to the smallest measly things at this lovely place. I do not believe they were ladies. An alien spirit must have taken over their bodies.

I can and have written my own recipes (and have been paid very well for it, too ), and still enjoy convenience foods sometimes. Just for the *convenience* of it. You may be right. In my case, I seem to have lost my Presbyterian cap somewhere, the one that kept me from being lazy, the one that hints that well-being is reached through struggle. Maybe someday I'll find it again. It's been a while since I milked a cow or made my own soda, too. Why not frozen ravioli? If it is delicious and if it serves your purposes, should there be any guilt involved? And therefore, within the structure of the "traditional family" they were a form of men's liberation, too. For no longer were they responsible for the sole financial support of the family. And today, as more men take to the home kitchen, they might be thought to be a form of liberation for them, also. If it was good enough for MFK's kitchen, well. I agree. Good enough for mine, most likely.

If only they could get two of a smaller breed and name them Snack One and Snack Two. It's snowing outside at the moment, Suzy, otherwise Bunny (see, now his name's capitalized, the crafty creature) would be outside. No fenced yard, though. But I'm thinking "playpen". ............................................... Bunny's fate has probably been finally sealed, yes. This morning he kissed my finger when I gave him his carrot. How can you eat a bunny that has kissed you? I realize it was probably only the salt we humans have on our skin, not being covered with fur like he is, but anyway. Sly Bunny. ................................................. It's interesting, though, where we draw the lines and how we draw them, on what we will eat or not. P.S. Suzy - The Easter Bunny must have received a religious deferrment or something, in my mind. He is the Sacred Bunny.

There are more bunny references I did not add to my bunny icon list, too. Mostly because they are rabbits, not bunnies, though they are white. And rabbits are more serious things than bunnies, so the emotional appeal is missing. Plus I had no thesis, and if I started in on this stuff, I'd have to *find* a thesis. There is the White Rabbit from Alice in Wonderland, always wondering what time it is. There's the song from the Jefferson Airplane "White Rabbit". On the other hand, it seems to me that both Glenn Close and Michael Douglas look peculiarly like white rabbits. Too scrawny for my taste, though, and the lack of emotional appeal makes them unappetizing to me. If I needed something to eat, and had to find something, and had to make a choice, I'd still have to choose , grass-eating symbol of sweetness ( and symbol of all that is wrong with society, in *this* house ), and hope that a bunny-like gentleness would imbue me. While hoping the bunny I chose to eat was not Bunnicula.

Remiss of me. Do you know, Milagai - I tried to watch that movie once and could not. It was too ugly.

I'll probably be spending too much time petting bunny between his ears through the wires of his cage to be able to cook anymore, SB. So. You are a lover of furry creatures but not feathered creatures? You would get along wonderfully with my cat. The only disagreement between the two of you would be that she thinks bunny a good thing to eat, too.

A bunny is something that most cultures consider dinner. It's hunted in the woods, in the fields, or is grown in small cages (as we do here with chickens) as a decent-tasting protein, not too difficult to butcher or to grow. No diminution of the name "rabbit" to the idea of "bunny" which makes the creature adorable-sounding to start off with. But here, in the US, we have a food item that has been made into a pet, made into an icon, really, of an image. Most of the ways we think of bunnies are not as food. We think of bunnies and in our minds rise the images of Bugs Bunny, a part of childhood Saturday mornings spent sprawled before the TV, rather than spent tending the garden or doing chores as children in earlier times or other places might do. Those with access to parents who read aloud, or to libraries, take into their hearts for all time our dear bunny cousin from across the pond - Peter Rabbit, plus memories of his mother, family, and assorted friends tucked around MacGregor's farm. Sometime later we meet Roger Rabbit, who is of course loved by Jessica. How could we think of him in a pie? Impossible! And to top it all off, we have Playboy Bunnies, the cream of the crop of sexually desirable young women who stick a furry white tail on their behinds, add floppy silk headbands with huge bunny ears attached (the better to hear you with, my dear), and put on a skimpy costume designed so that their mammary glands always seem just about to pop out at any moment, an agricultural food-product thought (not). Or maybe it is for some. A little white bunny entered my home. He (she, it) invaded my son's room, because my son wanted it to. And everything that seemed wrong about Western Culture seemed to invade my house, all because of a food item that wasn't. Generally I can persuade Drew to keep his room neat. This is something I insist upon, because these kids have so much "stuff". But the bunny, a cute little animal, was simply too much. Generally he keeps the door to his room open, but now it was closed, for the bunny needed to run and there is a cat in the house. The bunny started chewing cords, even though Drew had wrapped them in duct tape. This is a room with a *lot* of electronics, electronics being another dropping our culture often leaves in its trail. I had images of room and boy and bunny all exploding into an electrical explosion after one particularly good bite of a wire. And since bunny, the thing most cultures eat, was not yet trained, he (she, it) was shitting all over the floor, pissing on the carpet. Etc, etc. The thing that most people around the world eat, was eating us. And then it tried to electrocute me. I have cooked rabbits before, and it seemed to be quite a good idea for this one. But then again, we can not eat our friends, and this thing that most people eat had become Drew's friend. What to do. What we did, was peculiar, but it is us. I re-did Drew's room for bunny and Drew to exist together better. Carpet removed (thank goodness I do not believe in wall-to-wall carpet, so that was not too very difficult), excess electronics were removed and all cords re-wrapped to an excess of duct tape. As Drew seemed to be developing sinus problems, I removed the bunny cage from his room, as probably living with hay in his room was the cause. Bunny now lives in an alcove outside the living room. Ridiculous, I know. Now everyone that visits our home can know and love bunny. Drew is allowed to take bunny into his room to play for short periods of time. Since bunny needs intellectual stimulation, I told Drew to go into the basement to find some cardboard boxes, to fill them with this and that, as the instructional Bunny Link directed. I am not sure what happened, but when he climbed up the stairs to the kitchen he was calling "Help, Mom". I opened the door to the basement and was faced with a boy carrying a three and a half foot tall cardboard castle with turrets and small boxes coming from the tops and sides of the larger box at the bottom, all nicely prepared for bunny. The castle is in a corner of his room now, complete with flag stuck on top with a wooden skewer from my kitchen drawer, a skewer that is used for shish-kebobs. Bunny, the thing that most people eat, has become a Duke (or a Duchess). And everyone knows one can not eat a Duke or a Duchess. Their meat is stringy. I've loved each one of your helpful responses, and if I missed answering any, I hope you will understand and forgive me. It is almost time for elevenses, and the Duchess needs her tender celery leaves prepared just so! Celery gives good flavor to rabbit. One can always dream.

Or the Chinese cleaver of Karen. She (he? it? I haven't poked around to find out and do not intend to ) looks more like this, SB. Rather scrawny specimen for the pot, yes. Ah. That's why back-of-house stays late some nights, Katie. After all the FOH folk go home. Then of course, one can say that it was the suppliers that did it. Just a fun way of letting off some steam. Wheeeeee!

What a good doggie. Yes. We kill things in the back of the house and smile winningly in the front of house. .............................................. Ah, well. Some things have transpired in the past day, since all these lovely responses to my cry for help, and I've made my decision. Will the bunny hit the pot or not? I'll have to tell you tomorrow. I'm quite worn out.

I love what 4-H does. Someday I might try to join. No idea what my project would be, though. Isn't there a peculiar and specific way that a snapping turtle has to be cleaned in order to not smell like that? I seem to remember something like that from somewhere . . . (you see my vagueness with these matters - 4-H will have a time with me I'm sure ) (I guess I'm going to hell along with you, Sheena Greena. What shall we wear? )

Makes me wonder if temperament has anything to do with flavor, finally. It will be interesting, if Ada tastes better.

Obviously she lived in a world of her own making.

Why yes, I do believe it must be so. Atkins Diet. Upon examination of the text (which of course is not reality but it is the *text* so we do adore it ) we learn the following: Upon what meat doth this our Caesar feed, That he is grown so great? (From "Julius Caesar"*) (By Willie S.) (Edited for correction because I transposed without too much thought. So what else is new. )

Isn't that true of rice from the same bowl, also, Milagai? Will have to stick to the Atkins Diet today, possibly.

Hamburgers are coming to mind.

I'm going to go prattling on bit by bit, trying to respond to each post, for each one was wonderful. It's always best to eat someone else's bunny whenever possible, it's true, Katie. One day a long time ago my then-MIL decided to teach me about how to catch and kill and clean small birds. She caught a starling, a pigeon, a sparrow, and one other I can't remember, in a cage. What a lot of work to do those little birds in, and clean them. She roasted them, basted with stock and some barded with bacon. They were tiny. Each one tasted different than the other. She was so happy to tell me all about the different sorts of meats and the flavors of each and how they differed and what dishes would be best alongside each. It was not the idea of the small birds that made me not hungry for them, honestly. It was the sheer amount of work we had to put in to get that tiny amount of meat that left me not hungry for them. I like you, Gastro888. (But if I were going to teach him about the afterlife, I would also have to consider whether there was a reincarnated soul living in the bunny, and how that might affect my karma. )

Magnus Pyke has hinted to me that Caesar (remember to pronounce it chess-are-aye or he will become incensed) likes glis-glis very much. What Caesar does, I do. (Seems like there's a quotation missing from my brain that follows those same lines, but nevermind.) Edible dormice. Petronius says glaze them with honey and roll them in poppy seeds. Delightful! Apicius says stuff them with a mixture of ground pork, dormouse meat trimmings, pepper, nuts, asafoteida and fish sauce - then roast or broil them. He always was a bit fussier in his recipes than Petronious and they both try to out-dress the other, too. Silk togas, flannel togas, and once even a see-through one made from macrame flax. I won't tell you which fellow that was, or, what happened during the feast when he wore it. If you can not find any dormice at the market, they can be replaced by small rabbits. .......................................................................... (Edited to correct loose a's and e's )

I suspected you would be a bunny pie lover. Your name, you know. I've heard stories of dearly beloved pet chickens. Always startles me. But I like the idea. My son is light on "supervisory" skills. But as far as the cage goes, it is huge. The bunny has all the best. The bunny RULES! It is *me* who is becoming emotionally scarred. For what I paid for that bunny and its "stuff" I could have had a "spa day" at the best salon in town. Or, since this is eGullet, I could have had lunch at The French Laundry and left a good tip. I'm becoming hungry . . . oh, what I would give for a delicious dish of hasenpffefer. Yum.

Cake, leftover from son's 13th birthday, here. Three layers. Coconut frosting - probably made up the .14 plus a bit but who's gonna count frosting, I want to know. Round cake. Triangular slices. Quite pleasant. Three people eating, plus a cat and a bunny. Which would make 3.14 except for the bunny. Sad to say. The bunny caused the unbalance.

From another thread: ← Heh. Are you so sure that you've never had something like that put before you to eat, Genny? Behold (in the photos posted above the guinea pig dinner), the humble chicken dinner, one of our most nationally beloved foods. I can't see too much of a difference. A head with a gaping mouth and some little scrabbly paws, that's all.

The "grouper" I had was most likely a blackfish, I think. So many fish get different nicknames. I guess I feel about that fish the way some guys feel about a very attractive woman. Such a delightful and unbalancing experience that really . . . who cares about names.

Having encountered the animals once more in adulthood and being now oblivious to their charms, I am okay with this report: ← Dolly? I wonder why you chose that name, Pontormo. Docsconz' photos are gorgeous. I hadn't seen that thread. Funny how the shock factor hits one when looking at a whole roasted guinea pig like that, when one is unused to the presentation (I believe that *is* the more traditional presentation, no?). The very stark reality of the food is right there, "in your face" so to speak. I had a brother-in-law, first generation Peruvian American, who detested the idea of eating guinea pigs. Not because he disliked the flavor, for he had tasted them and had nothing against that, but for social reasons. His mother's family came from the mountains, and were poor. They ate guinea pig. His father's family came from the city and were more well-to-do and better educated. The guinea pig, in his family, was a symbol of a poverty in near family memory that most of them wanted to shed, he and his brothers and sisters. His mother, still loved the idea of the dish. It was hers, her memory, and whether it was "poor" food or not, she loved it. I think I read somewhere that guinea pig is becoming a dish of more stature in Peru. Culinary travellers have altered the balance perhaps, with the sense of adventure brought to the foods that spark interest for "outsiders". Rabbit, though. Can't really think of a social context for it, here in the US. Neither poor nor rich food, belongs to no one. Except for maybe the rare French restaurant that has "lapin" on the menu.

So my son tells me. Know any blonde bunny jokes? (If only there were someone like Cesar for poorly-behaved bunnies. "The Bunny Whisperer".) .......................................... The rabbit I've eaten was farmed rabbit. Much less gamy than wild, I hear. Seems like such a practical sort of livestock to grow, really. I'm surprised it is not more popular. Delicious.

Ah. Are you sure that your in-laws were not really just outside the kid's windows, one making noises like a storm while throwing around buckets of water while the other did the dirty deed? It's good that it's too long past to *really* check what the weather was that famous night.