Winter Skies, Kitchen Aglow

Now that Easter is over, it is safe to present a bunny dish. And not of the chocolate variety. Rabbit is often overlooked as a game option, it seems, even though there seem to be more television chefs presenting it to viewers. Rabbit is lean, and it has an undeniably savoury flavour. It is a surprising meat to present to guests. Actually, I don't really hear people talk about eating or cooking rabbit when sharing kitchen tales. Perhaps people are too afraid of others' reactions to say that they like rabbit, but I really think rabbit has fallen by the wayside as an option for dinner (well, for urbanites in New Zealand and in the US (as far as I recall). I hope this post will help change the tide a little bit.

The important thing to remember about cooking rabbit is that it has no real fat, so it has to be helped from going dry. Like most dry food, rabbit goes terribly stringy when cooked for too long and without an adequate provision of fat. As it is gamy and very savoury, it responds quite well to strong ingredients, such as garlic, woody herbs, and mustard, as in today's recipe.

This rabbit dish is really a riff on a typical bistro dish (in the best sense of the term). It is creamy, heady, and gamy. In all, the texture of the rabbit immersed in the cream makes for a comforting dish, so no one should turn their noses up at it, unless of course he or she is vegetarian or has an attachment to fluffy bunnies.

Rabbit in Mustard Sauce

1 small rabbit, approximately 1 kg (2lb), cut into 4 natural pieces (breast and legs)
salt
pepper
60g/2oz unsalted butter
1 leek, thinly sliced cross-wise
2 anchovy filets
1 tablespoon juniper berries, lightly crushed
300ml white wine
150ml cream
3 tablespoons dijon mustard
squeeze of lemon juice, to taste

1) Preheat oven to 170 C/325 F.
2) Season rabbit pieces with salt and pepper.
3) Put butter in frying pan, and over a medium-hot flame, add the rabbit pieces. Each size to be bronzed before turning over.
4) Remove rabbit and all butter but for 2 tablespoons liquified butter.
5) Add leek and anchovies, and cook until leeks have softened.
6) Add juniper berries, wine and bring liquid to the boil, then lower temperature to a simmer until the liquid has reduced by half.
7) Add rabbit pieces and bring liquid to simmer again.
8) Cover with foil, then place in the oven for 40-50 minutes until cooked through, turning the rabbit pieces over once.
9) Remove rabbit to a warm plate, place frying pan over medium heat and bring to the boil until syrupy (you could strain the liquor before, in order to remove the onion, if you prefer a smoother sauce).
10) Pour in cream and simmer until slightly thickened.
11) Whisk in mustard and add lemon juice to taste.
12) Add rabbit pieces back to the pan, simmer for 10-15 minutes, then serve.

My angelheart Eric and I love the quality that juniper berries bring to gamy dishes. Their alpine freshness cut through the intensity of flavour that some people might find hard to take at first bite. Knowing that game is not to everyone's liking, the addition of juniper berries helps make rabbit more palatable. Cream, of course, is to most people's liking and distracts a little from rabbit's savouriness. In the spirit of sharing (conversion), I am all for introducing mitigating factors, but the truth is that you can dispense of the juniper berries and even the anchovies for a gamier tasting dish.

I hope this is a good introduction to rabbit. Let me know how you get on.

Labels: French, Juniper Berries, mustard, Rabbit

Not so long ago, during a wet Winter's afternoon in Auckland, I braised a leg of lamb (see here). Amongst the list of ingredients were juniper berries. I couldn't find any at the time, but I resolved to use them during the Californian Summer, for my angelheart Eric and I had bought some in Colorado in February (well, from an import store that brought them in from Hungary). Though I knew I wouldn't be as interested in braising meat in a hot August kitchen, the thought of making a marinade for ribeye (entrecôte) steak was implanted. Ribeye is a cut of meat that always pleases my angelheart Eric, and out of all steak cuts, this is my preferred for grilling as it has the perfect mix of fat and lean.

If I were not a fan Bombay Sapphire - my chosen spirit when out, if not having wine or cocktails - I don't think I would have been able to describe the properties of juniper berries; however, "gin" is not an adjective, is it? Further inhalations of the deeply hued cones (for that is what they are - not actual berries) conjure up images of an Alpine slope: piney (or resinous, as the younger berries tend to be) with a hint of citrus. Think of clear blue skies with a sharp, biting wind. On its own, though, it is perhaps too sharp. In Central and Northern Europe, juniper berries are often a component of sauerkraut, in a love triangle with caraway seeds and bay leaves. For our marinade, my angelheart Eric and I incorporated star anise, which was chosen to temper the juniper berries with a complex sweetness but offering the same clarity in taste as juniper berries, and rosemary, matching the juniper berries' woodiness with depth.


The oil of juniper berries is best released when lightly crushed using a mortar and pestle. This is the opposite for star anise, which in my experience releases its aroma when only lightly toasted. This is a common ingredient in many Taiwanese stews and soups. I am just a shameless hustler for all things that have the chemical compound anethole: fennel, ouzo, licorice, tarragon, chervil, Sambuca...The rosemary, which we plucked from the shrub in the yard, can be removed from its woody stem and be lightly bruised with the juniper berries.


Ribeye Steak Marinated with Juniper Berries, Star Anise and Rosemary

1 stem rosemary
1 1/2 tablespoons juniper berries
3 crowns star anise
1 1/2 tablespoons soy sauce
3/4 tablespoon runny honey
1/4 cup olive oil
black pepper, freshly crushed
salt
2 Ribeye steaks, approximately 1/2kg/1lb each

1) Remove the leaves of rosemary from the stem and cut thinly. Throw into a mortar.
2) Add the juniper berries to the rosemary in the mortar and crush lightly with a pestle.
3) Lightly toast the star anise, which is to say, take them off the heat when they are fragrant, which should only take a minute or two. Pound them.
4) Put the rosemary, juniper berries and star anise in a vessel large enough to comfortably snug in your cuts of meat. Add the soy sauce, honey and olive oil. Stir together to marry the ingredients.
5) Salt and pepper both sides of the steaks.
6) Put steaks into the vessel with the marinade, and rub the marinade into the steaks.
7) Leave to marinade in the fridge for at least one hour, turning the steaks over halfway through.
8) Bring steaks out of the fridge 20 minutes before you want to cook them.
9) Pat steaks dry with kitchen paper before pan-frying until desired done-ness. They are rare when springy to the touch, medium when slightly resistant, and well-done when they don't yield to the touch at all. Depending on your preference, this can take anywhere between 5 and 20 minutes.

I do not pretend that this is a conventional combination of flavours. The elements are mostly my angelheart Eric's chosing, based on our many trials with coming up with interesting and penetrating marinades for well-marbled steaks. Though complex, the combination leaves one feeling quite light, and this can be attributed to the juniper berries and star anise. To avoid astringency, rosemary and soy sauce impart depth. As an equally light side, a bed of arugula dressed with a vinaigrette and shavings of smoked cheddar (for creaminess and mild depth) was most fitting.

Labels: Juniper Berries, Rosemary, Star Anise, Steak