“Don’t Tell the Kids,” featured (of course) in my nemesis the Dining & Wine section, is a predictably self-congratulatory piece about the integrity of raising your own food, sustainability, and the cognitive dissonance people have about eating rabbits. There’s more to it, of course—if you order a dead rabbit from this one dude and the corpse doesn’t arrive with his or her head still attached, you got duped—but I can’t be bothered to care. Oh, all right, a few things:
1. Most rabbits aren’t raised intensively, so you can assuage all your factory-farm guilt. Hell, you can even raise ‘em at home.
2. Rabbits are easier to butcher than pigs, so they’re good to learn on. You know, for those of you who want to work your way up that ladder.
3. Killing a rabbit sucks, but you get to eat afterwards, so it’s all good.
What else can I say? I’d love it if killing animals stopped being cool. However, I will reproduce for you the best part of the article (spoiler alert!):
Angelina Lippert, the woman who took an Abercrombie & Fitch bag and her boyfriend to the class in Brooklyn, brought home the legs of the rabbit they killed and braised them with almonds, apples, Calvados and cream. The saddle, kidneys and heart went into a rolled roast with garlic, sage and rosemary.
The killing itself was a little more intense than she had expected, she said.
“When I was the first person to volunteer to break the neck, it all seemed so easy and emotionless that I didn’t realize until after I’d done it that I was shaking,” she said.
But she recovered quickly. After all, there was a rabbit to dress.
Ms. Lippert still has the pelt, the head and the feet. They’re in her freezer, awaiting the taxidermist. But she doesn’t have the boyfriend.
“He ended up leaving me for a vegetarian,” she said.
Well, there you go.Photo of Niblet by Amber for SaveABunny, via Cute Overload.