The Decadent Cookbook (19 page)

No, the truth is that no compelling argument exists as to why dogs, cats or rats should not appear on the menu of a highly esteemed restaurant or on the table at an elegant supper party. It seems much more likely that the problem stems from a lack of good recipes. So here are some suggestions.

As always the success of a dish begins with the quality of the produce. When it comes to choosing your animal, some pointers (no pun intended) have already been provided. I think we can safely accept Labouchère’s recommendation of spaniel, although the advice he was given that poodle is superior to bulldog (“coarse and tasteless”) may have been prompted by anti-British sentiment. As far as cat is concerned, one simply has to work on the principle of the younger the better. With regard to rat, on the other hand, no lesser an authority than the
Larousse Gastronomique
states quite clearly that the tastiest rats are to be found in wine cellars. Presumably this is based on the notion that if they have been lapping up any spillage from the barrels, they will effectively be marinated from within, although the
Larousse
does not say if one can taste the difference between, say, an Haut Brion rat and a Cos d’Estournel rat.

Of the two following recipes, the second comes from Cameroun and recommends that only castrated male dogs should be consumed. The first is a classic dog dish from the Philippines.

Take one 6 - 8lb dog. Chop off head, paws and tail. Paunch and skin it, then bone it. Cut the meat into stew sized chunks. Place in a large deep pan and cover it with water. Bring to the boil and cook for ten minutes. The smell and the flavour can be too strong at this point, in the same way that mature goat is. In this case, parboil the meat again, or even a third time. Place the meat in a large bowl and marinate for at least half an hour. Half a cup of vinegar; 1 bay leaf, 2-3 fresh hot peppers, chopped; 1 onion, chopped; 4-5 cloves of garlic, crushed and chopped; two cups of water, salt to taste. Place meat and marinade in a saucepan, bring to the boil, cover, reduce heat and simmer for 2-3 hours, or until meat is tender. Remove cover from pan and cook further until all the water has evaporated. Have ready some hot chilli sauce and adjust the seasoning with it. Must be very spicy. Serve with rice.

O
NE
DOG

S
ALT

S
MALL-LEAVED
BASIL

S
KIN
OF
A
GARLIC
PLANT

PEPPER

‘
O
DJOM’

C
ITRONELLA

O
NIONS

S
WEET
BANANA
(‘
O
DZOE
BETI’
VARIETY
)

B
ANANA
LEAVES

This recipe requires a few preliminaries. Prior to being killed, the dog should be tied to a post for a day and hit with small sticks, to ‘shift’ the fat in the adipose tissue. After killing, it is cut up into chunks. The skin is scorched over a fire and scraped with a knife. The bowels are emptied, cleaned and rolled up. The pieces of meat are washed and scraped several times until there is no trace of blood or dirt left in the water. The stiff main veins of the banana leaves are skinned, then softened over a fire. The leaves are placed in a criss-cross fashion in a big pan. The pieces of meat are mixed with all the condiments in a separate pan.

This seasoned meat and some sweet bananas of the ‘Odzoe beti’ variety are placed on the prepared leaves. The leaves are tied together with banana fibre to make a packet. This packet is braised in a pot whose base has been covered with banana leaves. Water is added only up to the mid-point so that it cannot penetrate the packet during the cooking.

Cooking the packet takes eight to nine hours. Once done, the food is served immediately. It is a noble dish reserved for the elders of the village.

The sweet bananas absorb the fat exuded by the chunks of meat in the course of its cooking. Bananas so prepared are considered succulent.

Cat with polenta is a traditional dish from Alta Brianza. It involved leaving the creature for several days in the snow as a method of tenderising the meat. This following recipe, however, comes from Northern Spain.

Make a marinade from a cup of vinegar, some sprigs of thyme and two cloves of garlic, finely chopped.

Skin the cat. (Remember, there are more ways than one!) Then gut and wash it well. Cut it into pieces and put them into the marinade in a pot. Leave it overnight.

The following day, add 2 pounds of chopped tomatoes, a tablespoon of ground red pepper, two apples split in half, half a chopped onion and a cup of oil. Bring to the boil, then lower the heat and simmer until the meat is tender. Strain the liquid and then return to the pot. Bring it to the boil for a short while, then serve.

When it comes to rat, one only has to turn to the
Larousse gastronomique
to find the following delicious recipe:

Skin and de-gut your rat. Rub with a thick sauce of olive oil and crushed shallots. Add salt and pepper. Make a fire from broken wine barrels. Grill the prepared carcass over it. The Larousse recommends that the rat is served with a
Bordelaise
sauce, made according to the recipe of the great French gastronome, Curnonsky. Add six shallots to half a cup of red Bordeaux in a small pan and cook for a few minutes, until the liquid has reduced by a third. Add bay leaves and thyme. Heat over a gentle flame, add butter and stir from time to time. After about five minutes, strain the sauce. Just before serving, add three ounces of chopped beef marrow with the juice of a lemon.

This is all very well. The Decadent will no doubt be attracted to such recipes, not least for their capacity to
épater la bourgeoisie
. However, the true Decadent will not be content with that. He will wish to go further. His yearning for the bizarre and the exotic will constantly lead him to explore more and more remote culinary regions. One of the regions which should attract the Decadent is that of endangered species.

To begin with, there is an appeal in the sheer perversity of such an endeavour. Imagine being presented with the last Dodo, stuffed and roast. Would the Decadent not find a certain piquancy to the flavour, knowing that he was condemning an entire species to extinction? Would not every bite be savoured to the full, knowing that nobody would ever be able to prepare this dish again? It would be not only an experience of great intensity but also a moment of great solemnity.

And consider the public loathing and universal opprobrium which would be heaped on one who was discovered to have engaged in something so unspeakable! This would merely add to the true Decadent’s delight. He would show nothing but scorn for such pious and sentimental opinions. Nature and the Natural are something to be abhorred and avoided. They are as unappealing to the Decadent as the countryside. As that famous dandy, the Comte de St Médard famously remarked: “
I hate war. Why? Because it always takes place in the countryside and I hate the countryside.”