Warning: This is SOOOOOO not a vegetarian friendly post.
I was planning to write about a great meal I had over the weekend. But first I had to do my weekly homework assignment. Every Wednesday, I have to choose an interesting food article published in a newspaper and write a summary. Tonight, I poured over food stories at The Oregonian, Los Angeles Times, and Baltimore Sun before one caught my imagination at the New York Times entitled "Saving a Squirrel by Eating One."
Anyone who knows me very well knows I have a squirrel phobia. Some very bad squirrels traumatized me for life when I was a child. Really they did. A positively diabolic pack lived outside my grandparent's house. When I lived there the would terrorize me. This, I realize sounds crazy. But it is absolutely true.
I don't want to be with a three mile radius of a squirrel let alone roast one of the little bastards up in a red wine reduction. But the foodie in my does begin to wonder I have to admit. Yesterday, one of my classmates dubbed me "Brave Tongue" because I am a much more adventurous eater than he. This new moniker came up after I mused about what peacock tastes like. I know that sounds hideous to eat a peacock but a future chef does wonder about such things. I can say, if I die without ever having squirrel or peacock pass my lips, I won't have any regrets. I'm not that interested.
The article was really interesting because North American gray squirrels (like the ones pictured here menacing my back yard at various times over the last few years) have been introduced to Britain in the last century and have over run the indigenous s red squirrel population.The situation got so bad that in 2006 a marketing campaign was launched "Save a red, eat a gray!"
Gamekeepers there culling the population of gray squirrels, creating a steady of supply to British butchers. British chefs on the telly, cookbook authors were offering recipes and restaurants began offering it.
Preparations of squirrel are far more inventive than one might first- squeamishly consider. The Patchwork Traditional Food Company is selling a squirrel and hazelnut pate. Fergus Henderson, chef and co-owner of St. John restaurant in London offers squirrel in the spring as a seasonal dish. He braises them with bacon, pig's trotter, porcini mushrooms and shallots. He feels this dish recreates the forest atmosphere where the squirrels he serves were hunted.
British food has gotten a bad rap in the past but that dish does sound worth a nibble. Other establishments are serving squirrel in a traditional pasty or meat pie. Fancier interpretations are Peking Duck style squirrel and terrines.
The article does not specifically discuss the flavor of the meat. A butcher who sells quite a bit of it likens it to an oily rabbit. One food writer mused "their lovely flavor tasted of the nuts they nibbled" but then at another time said they could be greasy and unpleasant tasting.
If one is very interested in knowing for themselves, I suppose you don't have to venture farther than your backyard. Again, I'm not that interested.
Especially when I am fully distracted by the arrival of New York magazine's jam packed Where to Eat 2009 issue featuring my fave NY foodie, Adam Platt. So many restaurants, so little time! In the Bargain Mania section, Platt praises Porchetta. Two things guaranteed to make my heart shimmy in delight are a bargain and pork. Sweets and I went into the city to see the Elizabeth Peyton exhibit at the New Museum over the weeekend. With my trusty NY mag tucked in my bag, we set out for a post art viewing meal at nearby Porchetta. Within a block you could smell something delicious wafting through the air. Once we arrived in front of the storefront, we were striken with a fear we couldn't eat the delicious pork we had smelled. The joint was jam packed. With only six stools it is catch as catch can for seating. The temperature outside wasn't really conducive to getting food to go and walking. We were at in impasse.
A few blocks up, we peered into the window of The Redhead, where they are serving a bacon brittle that has lit my brain on fire since I read about it a few weeks ago. Alas, they were in the inbetween lunch and dinner time and not open. Drats. Never deterred, we next turned to Momofuku Bakery and Milk Bar for a sugar high and respite from the cold. Emboldened by the banana cookie and cornflake marshmallow chocolate chip cookie we enjoyed there we decided to give the pig a chance again.
As we approached Porchetta a second time, I spied the two stools in front of the window were open. And another couple bearing down on the entrance making it to the door just in front of us. Crap! Luckily, a woman and her son got up as soon as we walked in. We were treated to an even better view than the window seat, we got to sit directly facing the gorgeous plump pork loins waiting to be carved.
The menu is very simple. It's pork two ways. Either on a sandwich or a platter with white bean and cooking greens. We opted for the platter. Within moments the plates arrived and I had to try to be quiet but couldn't quite keep back from blurting out stuff like "there's a flavor explosion in my mouth." The pork is seasoned so deliciously. Most notably to me was the fennel. Total yum. The meat was perfectly cooked. Juicy and not falling apart. The cooking greens were kicking with garlic and a hint of red pepper. Even the beans had me cooing over their aldente perfection and herbal notes.
In summary, why eat squirrel when I can eat Porchetta.
Now that doesn't mean those cheeky squirrel bastards in the back yars should feel free to come any closer to me. I mean it!
