February 18, 2013 I’ve been going back through Facebook and pulling photos to write about. Here’s the classic French dish, Lapin à la Moutarde (Rabbit in Mustard Sauce, also called Lapin à la Dijonnaise, Rabbit in the Dijon style). It’s actually a very easy recipe to prepare, made even more so for me because I found big, meaty frozen rabbit legs from France. This is classic French fare, found in both country kitchens and city bistros throughout the country. There’s nothing like a big, plump French rabbit — they can be twice the size of the ones you find in most American markets — if, indeed, you can find them at all. This is an excellent dish for wild cottontails, too.

Being a country classic, the recipe of course has as many variations as there are cooks. The rabbit is usually braised, but it can be roasted as well. The finishing sauce must always be creamy — I used heavy cream here, but sour cream and/or crème fraîche are also used.  Some shallots. A spring of thyme. A bunch of parsley.  And plenty of flavorful  mustard. I used a creamy “Dijon” mustard, but you can use a grainy, coarse-ground dark mustard as well. Sadly, buying French mustard doesn’t guarantee quality or authenticity: few prepared Dijon mustards contain any mustard seeds from France and most of them aren’t even produced there! (Here’s an article about what happens when traditional foods aren’t given protected status.)

I salt the rabbit and let it come to room temperature. I heat unsalted butter — about 4 ounces (half a stick) for an entire rabbit — in a pan over medium heat. I pat the rabbit dry and brown it well in the butter, keeping the heat low enough that the butter doesn’t burn. Take your time. You don’t want to crowd the pan. Work in batches if need be, setting the pieces aside as they brown. I then add a couple of chopped shallots to the pan and cook them until they are golden, but not browned, then I deglaze the pan with wine. Most recipes call for white wine, but I more often than not have an open bottle of Provençal rosé that I use. A half a cup or so. I make sure all the little bits of deliciousness are scraped up, then I add a half a cup of mustard, a half cup of water, and a sprig of thyme (you could use about a teaspoon of dried thyme if you don’t have a thyme plant on your windowsill. I have one outside on my balcony and even in the snow I am able to snip fragrant sprigs). Bring the mixture to a boil, taste for salt and correct if necessary, add the rabbit pieces, turn the pot down to low, and allow to simmer, covered, until the pieces are tender. This will take anywhere from a 40 to 50 minutes or so. If you have a flame-proof clay pot with a tight-fitting lid, transfer the pot to a medium low oven to finish the braise; many people think the flavor is superior when cooked in clay. A knife should slide easily into the meat and it should be almost falling off the bone, but not quite.

Remove the meat to a serving platter and turn up the heat in order to reduce the sauce in half. Remove from the heat and stir in a half cup of cream and lots of chopped parsley, and pour over the rabbit. I served our legs with pole beans and new potatoes (the recipe appeared on the blog 5 years ago, in a post about Ireland) and crusty poolish baguettes from our local “French” bakery. I think I”m going to have to start putting quotation marks on lots of words given our global economies and “lifestyles.” Two meaty legs or one American rabbit will only feed two people. Most French recipes will tell you four — which is true for a big French rabbit. But we’re hearty eaters.