{"id":20597,"date":"2019-01-10T00:09:43","date_gmt":"2019-01-10T00:09:43","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/food.hoggardwagner.org\/?p=20597"},"modified":"2019-01-10T00:09:43","modified_gmt":"2019-01-10T00:09:43","slug":"hare-in-cognac-sauce-chutney-buckwheat-cabbage","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/food.hoggardwagner.org\/?p=20597","title":{"rendered":"hare in cognac sauce; chutney; buckwheat risotto; cabbage"},"content":{"rendered":"

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One Scottish hare.<\/p>\n

It turned out to be a 2-day feast, not necessarily because there was so much meat, but mostly because I was anxious to try to specifically prepare ‘saddle of hare’ (the phrase had always attracted me, like ‘haunch of venison’). For the saddle, see the next day’s post.<\/p>\n

But there definitely was enough protein for 2 meals, since this really is probably the richest, gamiest traditional European-tradition game of all: A little hare goes a long way.<\/p>\n

It’s not rabbit.<\/p>\n

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Our\u00a0lepus europaeus<\/i> was brought down in the field, with a shotgun, although not by the cook. While it was here we discovered two clues for identifying the manner of its demise, one while preparing the hare, one while enjoying it on the plate.<\/p>\n

I bagged it myself only after spotting it behind the glass-door of Ottomanelli\u2019s freezer the afternoon I picked up a large Kassler roast I had ordered for New Years Day. The price of the hare was surprisingly reasonable, especially considering how far it had flown to get here. I couldn’t resist bringing it home, even knowing it would steal a good chunk of the less-than-vast interior of our apartment refrigerator for much of a week while it lay inside, defrosting, then waiting for the cook’s attentions.<\/p>\n