I leaned over the stove, and the sweat beaded on my forehead. The pot had been cooking for hours, and the aroma begged me to sample it. I dipped a generous spoonful, blew on it, then sipped. My eyes lit up; I knew I made something special.
One day I spied two cottontail rabbits scampering in the sage near my trailer. As a lifelong fisherman, I loved to catch and cook whatever I could, but had never before considered game that hopped on land. Fortunately, a quick sunset hunt yielded me a healthy desert cottontail. After only 10 minutes of field dressing, I held a pair of rabbit hindquarters that could rival any chicken thigh.
I searched for internet recipes and began to chuckle. “French Rabbit Stew – Fit for Royalty.” My simple trailer is not the home of any king or queen, but it sure is cozy for me. I made some substitutions for the common man and got to work. I heated olive oil in my big stock pot, and sauteed onions and garlic. I then seared the quartered rabbit in the same pot and poured in 2 quarts of Smith’s chicken broth. Cubed potatoes, sliced mushrooms, and a generous pinch of Loma Vista chile powder came next. I brought the pot to a simmer and waited anxiously.
The wonderful smell filled every room of my home. I finally added two cups of cheap white wine during the last ten minutes of cooking to give the stew a full body. From the first taste, I was in love. The winter wind howled outside my trailer but the stew warmed me inside. I knew that the gift needed to be shared.
The next Monday, I convinced one of my coworkers to sample a Tupperware of the rabbit stew over fluffy rice. He started digging in while still leaning against a doorway. He raised his eyebrows, turned to me, and gave me an emphatic highfive of approval mid-chew. I got other positive reviews that the stew was hearty, and not gamy.
I was relieved, and so happy I tried a new recipe. The ingredients were simple, and the heart of the dish was sourced from the land I lived on. I encourage everyone to try cooking the bounty our beautiful land has to offer. You never know what opportunities can come hopping past your door.