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<< Front page | Commentary | October 31, 2003 | ||||
Kickin’ Game Hanging around Oberlin like I do, there’s not much opportunity to enjoy a good meal of game. Fortunately, over fall break I turned my frown upside down and found myself beaming over the glistening corpus of a rabbit braising on the stovetop. I was in Portland, Oregon, home of a franchise of Whole Foods, more aptly referred to as Whole Paychecks, which caters to every conceivable Jones of the bourgeois foodigensia, including edible flowers cultivated in the organic reclaimed rooftop gardens of Williamsburg. To make a long story short, we broke the entire bank at Whole Paychecks, but it was well worth it. We meat eaters have serious political and environmental realities to ponder as we lustily lather on the A-1. I may be mistaken in assuming that there’s no need for me to renumerate the ways in which American meat is contaminated and serves to contaminate, but there are books written about it for anyone interested, such as Eric Schlosser’s page-turner Fast Food Nation, which lays it down quite concisely. Fortunately for carnivores’ collective consciousness, the same arguments do not apply to most game that is hunted in the wild. Deer, for example, is a species that risks overpopulating itself to death because of lack of natural predators. Before humans endangered the wolf population, wolves were deer’s primary predator. Now that it’s curtains for wolves, there threaten to be more deer than their environment can sustain. Disease spreads in larger populations, and without predators to kill slower sick animals the healthy population is threatened. Everyone knows that the average rabbit’s libido would shame Mick Jagger right out of his saucy little manpanties. They love to lay it down in those clover beds, partly as a means of adapting to people-populated environments. As long as sexual healing continues to soothe, there will be plenty of rabbits to love up with your marsala wine, your mustard sauce, and your herbed butter. There is a movement afoot which is beginning to acknowledge where our food comes from, before it’s packaged and sold. Killing a rabbit with your little sister’s slingshot, skinning it in the backyard, and curing the meat in salt, sage, and bay for three days—there are no illusions there. Nobody transcends the food chain, and no one is involved in an immaculate and equitable exchange of energy in the world. Part of what makes the experience of pouring hot gravy over a plate full of luscious game is the acknowledgement of, and indeed the lusty celebration of death’s eternal tribute to life. Game should ideally be cured for up to three days before it’s cooked, so it becomes more tender and juicy. Rub approximately 3 tablespoons of salt per pound, along with some fresh herbs, as well as an agent to penetrate and loosen the meat like vinegar or wine. After three days of curing in a cool place, desalinate the meat by soaking it in milk for up to 12 hours, changing the milk every few hours. The rabbit I had over fall break was braised in a marsala wine sauce with dried bing cherries and red pearl onions. But I thought I’d offer a recipe that showcases two ingredients that are overwhelmingly abundant here in Oberlin. Deer in Beer |