Going Wild

A. is on a roll lately with the killing of small animals. He has taken to walking the dogs in the woods up back and bringing his shotgun. This has resulted in a squirrel that the dogs obligingly treed for him on Sunday, and a rabbit on Monday. That he flushed from a bush himself because the dogs were too busy chasing squirrels to notice the rabbit when they charged past the bush.

They can be kind of stupid, sometimes.

ANYWAY.

This hunting prowess means, of course, that we have been having wild game for dinner this week. A. took charge of the squirrel, boiling it in a couple of changes of water before pulling the meat apart. This method was prudent because for one thing, it was a really big squirrel--an old male--which tend to be kind of tough. And for another thing, it allowed him to get rid of whatever shot might be left in the squirrel so nobody broke a tooth on a small piece of shot in their dinner. That kind of detracts from one's gustatory enjoyment.

ANYWAY AGAIN.

He chucked the squirrel into a soup with a ham bone and various vegetables. And it was good. We've had squirrel before. Provided it's prepped properly, it's really a lot better than you would think the equivalent of a large rat with a bushy tail would be.

The rabbit was made into hasenpfeffer last night, by me. And not just because hasenpfeffer is a really fun word to say. It also happens to be some good eatin'. Personally, I've never gone wrong braising any kind of meat in half a bottle of red wine.

I think tonight we'll go back to boring old ground beef, though. It lacks the excitement of a meal that was running around mere hours before being eaten, but then again, it also lacks the possibility of chewing on lead shot. And there is something to be said for that.