Rabbit is very lean meat. It's so lean that it can kill you through rabbit starvation, a rare form of protein toxicity that sometimes kills isolated explorers who run out of vegetables and fat and have only very lean meat to eat for extended periods. There is no danger from rabbit if eaten with vegetables, fat and carbohydrates though, so no need to fear this pasta. But rabbit starvation is good to keep in mind if you're planning an arctic expedition or post-apocalyptic survival bunker. Preppers take note.

Even though it is so lean, it can be very tender if you cook it slowly. Farmed rabbit is very mild meat and it goes well with bright, sour, salty flavours. This ragout has similar flavours to puttanesca: tomatoes, olives, capers and lots of garlic, but it's cooked very slowly. I like to put in some of the olives and capers right near the end of cooking to give both slow cooked and fresher versions of their flavours to the sauce.

rabbit ragout:

one whole rabbit, cut into pieces (ask your butcher to cut it, or follow these instructions)
one pound of tomatoes chopped (fresh, canned or frozen are fine)
one cup chicken stock
olive or vegetable oil
one cup green olives, divided
2 tbs capers, divided
one whole bulb of garlic, peeled and smashed
one large yellow onion, chopped
a bunch of parsley, roughly chopped
a generous amount of homemade or dry pasta

In a large dutch oven on medium heat, sear the rabbit pieces with a little oil, browning on all sides. Remove the rabbit and set aside. Sauté the garlic and onions until golden brown. Add the tomatoes and cook until they begin to soften.

Return the rabbit to the pot. Add the stock, half the olives and half the capers. Increase the heat until the liquid simmers vigorously and then reduce to medium low. Cook on low until rabbit is very tender and falling off the bone, around 1.5-2hrs. Remove pan from heat. Remove rabbit pieces, shred the meat off the bone and return it to the pan. Add the remaining olives and capers. Serve over fresh papparedelle, made from super rich pasta dough like this one from smitten kitchen or over any other pasta you like. Sprinkle over lots of fresh parsley.

Photos by Tyrel Hiebert

This is a deceptive little sauce. It looks more or less like plain old tomato sauce, it's just as easy to make as plain old tomato sauce. But it is not just tomato sauce; it's tomato sauce with vodka! And cream! It's richer and creamier and fancier. It's fancy tomato sauce. If you want to make it even fancier, you can serve it topped with some shrimp sautéed in garlic and butter. Or really lean into the carbs + butter combo theme of this meal and have some garlic bread.

I have been making this recipe for a few years, ever since I saw it on Smitten Kitchen, where the brilliant Deb Pereleman adapted it from a Rachel Ray recipe. But I was reluctant to post it here, for some reason I couldn't quite fathom. In her post, Deb talks about being embarrassed by the original name of the recipe: "You Won't Be Single For Long Vodka Cream Pasta". I find names like this more than just embarrassing-they make me shudder, they make my skin crawl a little. I can't say them aloud; the idea of ordering something with a name like this makes me feel unwell. Embarrassing names like this tend to turn up in bars that have house invited libations (I feel like there may be a correlation between names of this sort and bartenders who call themselves mixologists, but this is just a hunch). I wonder about the thought process behind these names. Do bartenders and menu writers do this knowing the moment of anxiety they will produce among their more neurotic customers when they contemplate saying these things? I have sometimes resorted to pointing at what I want rather than having to say the unpleasant names that proud (or malicious?) bartenders or chefs have given their inventions. If the idea of this sort of name is unfamiliar to you, browse through any Guy Fieri menu and I think you'll see what I mean. If you can contemplate saying "guy-talian" to another human being without breaking a sweat, you are a stronger person than me.

Maybe the residual embarrassing-name-shame I felt from just reading about the recipe was keeping me from sharing it. But I powered through my overdeveloped sense of awkward-name-anxiety for two reasons:

This pasta is really tasty.
And it has another name! A proper name, a sensible name. A name I can say without blushing: penne a la vodka.

penne a la vodka:

adapted from smitten kitchen

1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
4 cloves garlic, smashed
2 shallots, minced
a big pinch of red chili flakes
3/4 cup vodka
1 cup chicken stock
2 cups tomatoes, roughly chopped (if it's not tomato season, canned or frozen tomatoes are probably better than fresh)
salt and pepper
1/2 cup heavy cream
lots of fresh basil, shredded
penne

Fry garlic, shallots and chili in oil and butter over medium heat until they begin to brown. Add vodka and cook until reduced by about half. Add chicken stock and tomatoes. Cook until the tomatoes are falling apart and the sauce has thickened. Add cream and simmer on medium low until the pasta is ready.

While the sauce is cooking, cook penne in a generous quantity of salted water. When the pasta is al dente drain it and toss into sauce. Serve, topped with basil and a little parmesan if you want. Call this dish whatever you like and try not to be too stressed out about it.