From a good butcher you should be able to obtain just the saddles of rabbit; if not, you can always use the legs for something else (try confit, page 98).  You will need a tame rabbit or a particularly happy wild rabbit for this dish.  Take the fillets off the bone (2 per portion if tame, 3 if wild) with a thin, sharp knife, following the backbone and ribs, or ask your butcher.  Remove the kidneys and save them.

For the past two years, I’ve made rabbit recipes from “The Cookbook” on Easter for my family.  Sure, it’s been done tongue-in-cheek, but spring is actually an excellent time for serving rabbit.  The meat is tender and juicy when not overcooked, and pairs well with various spring vegetables.  But what really made me fall in love with this recipe the most is the inclusion of caul fat, which I’d been looking forward to working with for a long time.

My amazing and loving wife was kind enough to swing by Central Market to pick up rabbit for me.  She even had their butchers remove the fillets and reserve the livers and kidneys.  The livers were saved for later, but the kidneys were up to bat this go around.  These rich little gems needed to be roughly chopped…

…like so.

The rabbit saddles were then placed on the cutting board with the thin muscle stretched out and laid flat.

On top of the rabbit meat went the kidneys along with a generous dose of salt and pepper…

…and the saddles were rolled up, kidneys on the inside.

From there, streaky bacon and caul fat (woohoo!) were wrapped around the rolled up saddles to form compact, cigar-like shapes.  Both were needed to keep the rabbit properly secure during cooking.

When it was time to start working on dinner, I removed the rabbit saddles from the refrigerator and let them warm up to room temperature before placing them in a super hot cast iron pan.  Mr Henderson instructs to get these rolls brown all over, and stresses that if the caul fat isn’t completely crisp, the outside of the saddle will be stringy, chewy and fatty.  Those are not qualities I’m terribly fond of, so I made darn sure to get each one a toasty brown.

Like so!  Hrm, looks like the one of the far left could have been a little more brown there on the end.  Next time I’ll make sure to check all angles before moving on the next step.

The saddles were placed in a roasting pan along with the rendered fat, and the whole thing went into a hot oven for about ten minutes.  I kept checking every two minutes after that to ensure that the rabbit meat wasn’t overcooking and drying out.  Mr. Henderson says to catch the flesh right after it turns opaque for perfectly juicy meat.

As the meat rested, my wife and I constructed a salad that captured the spirit of spring.  Green onions, boiled baby carrots and peas, radishes, arugula, chopped parsley and the odd caper were all tossed together with a vinaigrette and plated.  By the time we were done with the salad, the meat had rested enough.  Each roll was cut into inch thick slices and placed on top of the salad and immediately served to our waiting family.

I’m particularly proud of my plating for this recipe.  I’m a rank amateur at best, but this presentation looks like it might come from a restaurant.  That what I’ve come to expect from myself-restaurant quality food, plating, everything.  I’ve got to keep pushing myself to get better every time I pick up a knife.  I look at people like Carol, like Hank and I just sigh.  They’re both supremely talented, and I’m… not.  However, this dish is the first I’ve made that I feel I could serve to either of them and be confident.  Heck, I’d serve this to Mr. Henderson himself given the chance.

The rabbit meat was fantastically tender and moist thanks to the protection provided by the bacon and caul fat.  The chopped kidneys added richness and flavor to an otherwise subtle protein.  Comments from my parents and my wife’s relatives were rather complimentary. “A feast for the eye, as well as the palate.” “Delicious.” “This dish looks like Spring to me.”

I’m just waiting for an excuse to make this recipe again.

One down, fifty seven to go.