Have your game and eat it, too

I believe that our Creator puts people on earth at a time when they can do the most good. George Washington for the founding of our country, for instance, or Abe Lincoln for bringing it back together. For my part, He knew that if I had been born in an earlier era, my entire family would die of hunger, due to my aversion to handling in an intimate manner any wild game, or anything that looked like it did when it was alive.

I imagine dinnertime at our pioneer house:

Joe: Woman, I hath brought to thee a handsome and generous squirrel. Now cook thou it for my supper, for I am famished from hunting.

Me: These hands wilt not touch that, Husband. Where beith the canned tuna I hath asked of thee?

Of course, Joe would never have brought me a handsome and generous squirrel, and neither of us would have wanted to get dirty pulling up roots on which to survive, either.

But according to a classic cookbook Joe dug out of our library the other day, I could, if so inclined, have these types of meals at my modern table. The author is most eager to impart her extensive knowledge of preparing such dishes as tongue in aspic, lamb fries, pigs' knuckles and sauerkraut, casseroled rabbit and sausage, rabbit a la mode or jugged hare, opossum, porcupine, raccoon, muskrat, woodchuck, and armadillo.

No detail is spared in her explanation of how to prepare these for eating. There, right on p. 515, is an extremely graphic depiction of a squirrel being relieved of its outer covering. The reader is advised to do so while wearing gloves, to "avoid possible tularemia infection." In addition to gloves, the person in the illustrations is wearing heavy boots, which apparently aid in the divesting of the squirrel's covering. We are also cautioned to thoroughly cook any wild meat, as these animals may be "harboring trichinosis."

But there is no reason to let the possibility of debilitating disease stop us from enjoying such delicacies, as long as we follow some simple guidelines and have a very strong stomach.

We are advised to refrigerate brains, for they are "very perishable." This might explain a lot about brains in general.

If we wish to prepare opossum, it is best to trap it and "feed it on milk and cereals 10 days before killing." The 10 days will give you enough time to think up a good reason for explaining the opossum's presence on your property to your homeowners' association.

If it is large game one is after, we are reminded that shooting it in "an unsuspecting moment" will result in more tender meat that will deteriorate less quickly than if one has involved the animal in a chase.

Yet with all the care one must take, the author insists that "joy can prevail." And that if one is willing to apply herself and "gird up your loins for the fray" -- this was mentioned in particular connection with stuffing a boar's head for Christmas dinner -- the reader can expect a "hero's reward in gratitude from your assembled guests."

Or a wish on their part that you had been born in a different era from them.