American Plate - Bite #36: Spanish California Rabbit Stew

One of the nuances of the American Plate Project is how readily available each of the Bites is. It's pretty simple to get my hands on a hot dog or a banana, but things like Lincoln's favorite cake and lamb's quarters will probably come later in the process. Once in a while, though, I get a shot at one of the more esoteric items on the list, and fortunately, the stars aligned this past week to get to one of the most niche Bites in the bunch.

American history is full of stories about the colonies and the Civil War, but we'd do well to teach more of the history surrounding our expansion. Around the 1830s, a steady stream of wagon trains set out west, with pioneers settling vast swaths of land. Of course, some of that land was already occupied, but that sure didn't stop anyone. Encouraged by President Polk, Congress delcared war on Mexico in 1846, and over the next several years, the United States acquired loads of territory, be it by invasion, annexation, or purchase.

As with many stories of conquest, the new citizens and the existing ones eventually blended into a single community, which gave rise to a whole new regional cuisine, and eventually the modern Tex-Mex we all enjoy today. We talk about foods that represent America often, but the dishes that were born from the combination of pioneer Americans and Latino citizens are really far more American than a lot of the things we often ascribe national identity to. I'm looking at you, apple pie.

Encarnación Pinedo's 1898 cookbook, El cocinero español, described a lot of these wholly American creations melded from Old World and New World influences. As hares were plentiful in the Southwestern region (and still are), they were a very popular protein to cook with, and Pinedo included multiple ways of stewing them in her book. Of course, the recipe needed some slight adaptation from its 1898 version, which read:

"Cut the rabbit in small pieces. Fry in very hot fresh lard with small pieces of pork fat. Fry over a quick fire, and when it begins to brown, add some chopped onion, garlic, and salt. Let it cook. Then add tomatoes, olives, chopped mushrooms, one or two spoonfuls of flour, and powdered oregano. Cover it with a chile sauce, leaving the casserole covered, and cook it over a moderate flame."

The American Plate provided an udpated recipe for Rabbit in Chile Sauce, and what better time to prepare it than a snowy winter's eve? I definitely still need some practice in butchering meat; the rabbit may have come pre-skinned, but I'm not great at separting a carcass into its component pieces. There was lots of chopping to do, too. As with every recipe, I put in more garlic than is called for, and popped open my last bottle of red wine for the sauce. I don't like the texture of mushrooms, but they add nice flavor, and I wanted to stay authentic to the recipe, so I included them as big chunks instead of minced pieces so I could eat around them. I'm glad that the updated recipe retained the olives, too. They added a very nice bit of salty brine to the stew.

The weather was bad enough that I didn't go out for extra accompaniments such as bread or green vegetables, so I just served the stew on wild rice, which worked out pretty well. Both Tiddy and I enjoyed it a lot, though eating a heavy stew with a glass of red wine meant I was passed out on the couch half an hour later. That's something those Southwestern pioneers sure didn't have the luxury of doing.