First go to Yorkshire for your rabbit loins
My older sister often tells me that when women cook, they simply get on with it. Whereas when men cook, it becomes a performance. Rather than quietly coming up with supper, men go to wild lengths to source ingredients, throw things around the kitchen while demanding total silence, then expect the assembled diners to appreciate their culinary genius.
With my girlfriend Constance’s birthday party looming, I mentioned that for some time I’d been keen to make rabbit arancini. For the uninitiated, arancini are little deep-fried balls of risotto, often with a bit of mozzarella in the middle. I can’t remember where the idea of adding rabbit came into it, but it could have been a late-night pre-shoot day conversation with Tim Maddams, of which there have been too many to remember.
Last time I wound my way up Ilkley Moor to the old hotel next to
