Rabbit Terrine (Vegetarians and Rabbit lovers DO NOT READ ON)

What is it about rabbits that makes some people feel guilty about eating them? Is it their big doleful eyes? Their bushy little tails? The way they lollop playfully around the countryside? In another post I discussed the defensive qualities of some plants that help them to survive. Animals are blessed with them too. Some have hard exoskeletons that act as protective shields, others have spikes and venomous bites. Men have guns.

A rabbit's best form of defence against human predators is to look cute.

Well sorry Bugs, it doesn't work on me. I'm no Glen Close but I'm quite happy to get stuck into a bit of bunny. Maybe it's because I've never read Watership Down or had a rabbit as a pet.

Whatever, a rabbit generally has a fairly active life involving lots of potholing, the odd bit of swinging, and rivers of illegal moonshine that they brew in their subterranean speakeasies. Well that's what I've heard anyway.

I think in comparison to battery hens and veal calves, rabbits have things pretty good.

There are two rabbit dishes I've been keen to to make. One is Mark Hix's Stargazy Pie from Great British Menu. The other a Rabbit Terrine with Celeriac Remoulade which I ate recently at Magdalen, my restaurant of the year so far. With a bit of time on my hands and 5 coming for dinner on Friday, I decided on the terrine as a starter.



I bought a whole wild rabbit from my local butcher and proceeded to remove all the flesh from the carcass - I think I may have inherited by father's surgical hands as it seemed a fairly painless and enjoyable process, although incredibly fiddly at the same time.




The rabbit leg meat was mixed with pork belly and chicken livers and marinated overnight in Armagnac, herbs, lemon juice and garlic. The following day I lined the terrine with bacon and filled it with the rabbit mixture, adding pistachio nuts and layering long pieces of rabbit saddle throughout the terrine to create a different texture. The terrine was cooked in a bain marie for 90 minutes and pressed overnight ready to be served on Friday evening accompanied by a mustardy celeriac remoulade.