Sorry Easter Bunny…Errah, Aha! (This is onomatopoeia that only my mamma will understand)

I have recently been obsessed with slaughtering a rabbit.

I know it sounds strange, but I felt compelled to for once kill the meat I ate on my own, and thought that the furry little mammal would be a good start. I HAVE been eating meat all of my life, and wanted to understand the process a bit more, giving the act the respect it deserves.

I had heard about the actual rabbit kill, and felt at peace with the ritual. No whipping chickens around by their necks or bleeding pigs, just a simple wack on the head and the limp body would tenderly undergo my thoughtful skinning. I had even imagined preserving the pelt and using it……maybe to practice with taxidermy? (a strange fantasy, but this whole post is a bit off.)

After talking it up for weeks, my images were instead crushed by a brutal, seemingly painful kill (Rule 1: do not ask an Italian military man to demonstrate a harrowing task). As soon as the rabbit was taken from the hutch, visions of my sweet bunny Pretty, and thoughts of Grandma’s Snowball rushed to the brain. I could not bring myself to slit the creature’s throat (his method of choice), but forcefully watched in shock.

My excitement instantly turned to grief once I saw the sweet white rabbit wriggling, legs strung up like Jesus reversed. Then, the moment I had waited for….blood stained white fur, a half alive skinning, guts fed to the surrounding chickens, it was a sight too strong to bear, and my dreams of peaceful sacrifice were crushed.

When it all was done, we were kindly given the tortured carcass (thank you Guiseppe!) as a present for Pasqua, and did the animal justice (it was the least we could do) by presenting it as the centerpiece for a splendid supper the following night.

I did help butcher the rabbit, and Anna, Chris, and I roasted it over a nice bon-fire, accompanied by roasted potatoes, artichokes, and delicious white wine that the builder of the project, Antonio, had made himself. Mmmmm…

It was a truly memorable Easter feast, sorry if you don’t get your baskets in the morning kids!

CAUTION: Photos are not suitable for children, and I assure you while some of the poses seem to belittle the poor animal, the slaughter haunted my every bite and I will never look at meat the same, needless to say Mr. Easter bunny has made an impression.

Happy Easter up your Keaster!

XOXO

Ally