Last Friday night, Husband and I had the good fortune to eat dinner at Satterfield’s in Cahaba Heights. From the cheese plate to dessert, I have to say that every little mouthful was just divine, but I most especially enjoyed one of my guiltiest pleasures – rabbit.
Now Husband doesn’t eat anything that once had fur or feathers, and I can’t profess to be much of a carnivore either. For me, it’s a taste thing. I’m just not a big fan of meat, don’t like it, never have. But, there are some things I love, and rabbit is one of them, especially when said bunny is citrus braised and paired with ricotta gnocchi, baby radishes, and oyster mushrooms! Nevermind the cute, floppy ears, soft fur, and big eyes. I can get past it every day of the week.
In fact, I even had a pet rabbit as a child. The Easter Bunny brought me his little brown and white cousin one warm, spring Sunday morning. Baw and I made it a home in a hutch built in the chicken yard. We fed it, petted it, and tried to play with it. You should note here that rabbits don’t much like being held, and, if they decide they are ready to be put down, will lay your arm open with the claws on their big old hind feet. Nevertheless, we took good care of it, and it lived high on the bunny hog.
One day, I went out to the chicken yard to visit our rabbit, but the hutch was empty! I ran to find Baw and tell him that our pet had escaped. But it was not a jailbreak. Baw told me very solemnly that the Lord had taken our little furry friend to bunny heaven and that he would be happy forevermore in paradise.
Of course I was as sad as sad could be, but who could argue that a rabbit wasn’t better off hopping across heavenly meadows than he was in an earthly cage? Plus, that day Sarah made one of my favorite dishes for lunch – fricasseed “chicken” – and the world was right again.