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OT: Rabbit meat

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My barber is an 85 yr old Italian man who buys his rabbits from a farmer. He buys his rabbits live then pulls one out of a cage, hits it over the head with a hammer and cooks it. He tells me that they die easy. The process doesn't sound appealing to me but i'll check with him. He may also have some cooking recommendations.
 
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Pretty sure D&D Market in the South End would have it. You could call them and ask.
 
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If you have never had rabbit made by an Italian woman from the old country, you don't know what the you are talking about.

Your first good post. My grandmother's rabbit a stemperata, with the green olives and carrots and a couple pieces of bread for the juice, is one of my deathbed meals.
 

August_West

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If you have never had rabbit made by an Italian woman from the old country, you don't know what the you are talking about.

Excellent post/handle

Would have been an epic post/handle if you said coniglio instead of rabbit.

B+/A-
 
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Excellent post/handle

Would have been an epic post/handle if you said coniglio instead of rabbit.

B+/A-
True, but that would have confused a lot of people. Seriously though, I have an aunt in Buffalo (my father's sister) who is such a great cook that I swear she uses witchcraft. And my other aunt who still lives back in Italy may be an even better cook! My memories of visiting Italy as a kid pretty much all revolve around food. EVERYTHING was fresh off the farm. Even the lamb we had was killed that morning before we left to see Rome. We came back for dinner and I smelled lamb, which I LOVE. Then it hit me, I didn't hear or see the lamb outside that morning. My father looked at me and asked if I was still going to eat it. I said, "of course"! Chickens, rabbits, cows, pigs...all roamed the land and got eaten the same day they met their demise. Fresh figs from the trees. Fresh eggs from the chickens. Home made pasta rolled and cut BY HAND. Every stinking string of it! And the freaking meatballs!!! Good lord they were SOOOOO good!!!
 

temery

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image.jpeg
 

temery

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I lived in a neighborhood of Italian immigrants as a kid. If I dropped by at dinner time they'd be insulted if I didn't sit down and eat.

I'd walk up and down the street around 6 pm until I smelled whatever it was that interested me on any given day, and then popped in for a visit.

True, but that would have confused a lot of people. Seriously though, I have an aunt in Buffalo (my father's sister) who is such a great cook that I swear she uses witchcraft. And my other aunt who still lives back in Italy may be an even better cook! My memories of visiting Italy as a kid pretty much all revolve around food. EVERYTHING was fresh off the farm. Even the lamb we had was killed that morning before we left to see Rome. We came back for dinner and I smelled lamb, which I LOVE. Then it hit me, I didn't hear or see the lamb outside that morning. My father looked at me and asked if I was still going to eat it. I said, "of course"! Chickens, rabbits, cows, pigs...all roamed the land and got eaten the same day they met their demise. Fresh figs from the trees. Fresh eggs from the chickens. Home made pasta rolled and cut BY HAND. Every stinking string of it! And the freaking meatballs!!! Good lord they were SOOOOO good!!!
 

FfldCntyFan

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My mother was 'Medegan' (broken English for American) and quite often during family gatherings would not eat as many things that made it to the dinner plate were things she could not view as edible.

Briefly while I was younger (roughly seventh grade) a northern Italian (Piemonte as Nonna would say) woman started working at this same company as my father and as he was able to speak Italian (albeit a slightly different version) they became friendly enough where we would have her family over for dinner on occasion and they would return the favor (I hated having to eat pollento as the bulk of a meal). One night at their place I made the mistake of asking what the food on our plates was as my mother was about to start eating. Coniglia said the woman, followed almost immediately with Rabbit from her husband (the only English word I ever heard him say). A fork never went from almost in someone's mouth back to the plate quicker than what my mother did upon hearing that. The woman's husband hated it here so they moved back to Italy after only about a year and I haven't seen them in more than forty years. This thread reminded me of that incident.
 
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I mentioned in another post that my barber buys his rabbits live from a farmer. Asked him where he gets them and he said Zarella Farms in Plainville on Rt 177 near Norton Park.
 
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If anyone wants to try rabbit very well prepared, Skappo in New Haven serves it as a basic menu item. It's quite good, slowly braised, and sauteed with pancetta, celery and (yep) carrots.

Menu | Skappo
 
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