A Squirrel in Every Pot

This may surprise you, but I didn't eat my first squirrel until I was well into my adult years, and it wasn't at the farm, or even in this country: It was in jolly old England, where squirrel has been all the rage for a couple of years. (The Brits are either more enlightened or less so than we are, depending on your worldview.)

I was at St. John restaurant and the chef, Fergus Henderson, was running a squirrel special. Before the waiter had finished describing it, I was eagerly nodding yes. The dish was served with porcini mushrooms and a deeply porky sauce, and I have to say, it was really, really good. The meat was a little bit woodsy, a little bit rabbitlike but unique unto itself. There was no doubt that I was eating game.

I shot my first squirrel early one morning last winter. The little critter had moved into the attic of the farmhouse, and his predawn antics had been waking me. As I carried the carcass into the woods, I felt terrible, and that's when I decided to try my hand at cooking the furry rodent.

Since then, I've eaten and served squirrel many times, and any dinner guest who's had enough gumption to taste a bite has loved it. If you ever get the chance, you should try it, too. Of course, it's not the sort of protein that grocery stores carry, so there's the very practical matter of needing to shoot, skin, and gut a squirrel before cooking it--a chore no one especially wants. But it's not as hard as you might think. I would go into the process here, but this isn't Garden & Gun. Instead, let's stick to the cooking part.



Low and slow is the way to go with any rodent (groundhog, guinea pig, etc.). Because it's fall and I have a bounty of apples, I slow-cooked the meat in apple cider with a carrot, an onion, and herbs until the meat fell off the bone. Then I cooked down the sauce and used it as a glaze. The result was a high-end nod to the sort of game cooking our friends across the Atlantic are doing (and we should be doing here in the U.S.) Eating squirrel is a sustainable choice, and it's also a delicious one.


Squirrel, Cider-Braised and -Glazed

2 Tbsp. unsalted butter
1/2 medium onion, chopped
1 carrot, chopped
1 squirrel, skinned, cleaned
1 1/2 cups apple cider
1 Tbsp. Dijon mustard
1 sprig tarragon
1 bunch parsley
1 tsp. each kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper, divided
1 small shallot, finely chopped
1 Tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil
2 tsp. apple cider vinegar

Heat butter in a medium heavy pot over medium-high heat. Add onion and carrot and cook, stirring occasionally, until browned, about 6 minutes. Add squirrel, cider, Dijon mustard, tarragon, 2 parsley sprigs, and 1/2 tsp. each salt and pepper. Bring to a simmer and cover pot. Braise until meat is very tender, 2 1/2-3 hours. Let squirrel cool in braising liquid.

Once cool, remove squirrel from liquid and cut into serving pieces (hind legs, front legs, saddle). Strain braising liquid, reserving vegetables. Bring liquid to a boil and reduce, uncovered, stirring occasionally, until sauce measures 1/2 cup.

Preheat the broiler. Brush squirrel pieces with some of sauce. Broil until browned and heated through, 8-10 minutes.

Meanwhile, pick parsley leaves. Toss with shallot, oil, vinegar, and 1/2 tsp. each salt and pepper.

Serve squirrel with parsley salad, reserved vegetables, and remaining sauce.