by Jack Thomas, Globe Staff
This is a class in Northern Italian cooking, so it’s normal, I guess, to feel hungry.
But I’m nauseated.
It’s not the bagna caoda (garlic dip) we’re making, nor the polenta (corn meal) nor the zabaione (Marsala and egg yolks). What makes me queasy is the entree I’m stirring, coniglio in peperonata, and if you don’t speak Italian, well, that translates into rabbit and peppers, and where I grew up THAT translates into the Easter Bunny.
I know. Sophisticated folks dine on everything from snakes to snails to oxen tails, and I’ve read in Gourmet magazine that rabbit is the rage in Europe. On the other hand, I’m not the only one in this month-long course at the Boston Center for Adult Education who’s queasy about coniglio in peperonata, and by the time we sit down to dinner, half the class feels guilty that we’ve drawn and quartered and boiled in oil that cuddly creature that — a scant three weeks earlier — had been hippity-hopping down the bunny trail. (more…)