Ah, the anticipation of springtime. Waiting for the blooms to unfold after a long and trying winter. I look out over my domain at the sea of green and notice the garden is punctuated… by spikes; yes, once again, spiky stems of snapped-off tulips.
Alas, lopped in their prime, before the buds burst into bloom. Snap. Right at the top, an inch or so below the flower. See that: Nibble. Hear that: Patooey. Without even the decency to eat the spoils. So tender buds of are strewn about to shrivel on the ground. There. And there. And, oh look, over there.
At times like this, I get an inexplicable craving… for squirrel pie.
Fortunately, I own a 70s classic edition of The Joy of Cooking, that indispensable tome. The Joy of Cooking knows everything. Not only does it tell me how to cook squirrel, and other pesky small game like raccoon, it shows me, and quite graphically, how a squirrel should be skinned.
I love the fact that it’s shown to be a legitimate thing. Of course, you might eat squirrel or raccoon. Why not? Here’s how!
Some people read gardening books. Others, at certain times, get equal joy from a cookbook. It’s cuisine! That’s all. Why else would I want to read about something like this?
Now, let me see: I place my foot just there, and pull.
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The squirrels have be doing exactly that in our garden for years–nipping the buds from the tulips just as they are about to open into full bloom and strewing the petals around! We too keep our ancient well-thumbed version of Joy of Cooking around for stoking our revenge fantasies after our garden suffers these kinds of indignities at the teeth of local rodents. Now that we finally have a ban on on pesticide use, I think free-range, wild-caught squirrels and rabbits would make great additions to the localvores diet plan. Toronto area chefs should take note.
Oh my gosh, my mother and I pull out that edition of the book and crack ourselves up over the demure yet utilitarian illustrations of prepping squirrel carcasses! My home is regularly invaded by the little monsters and there are times when ending up in a pie is the best fate they could hope for, if I laid hands on their hides.
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Well I am fed up with the little rascals! Fed up I say. They are running around like they own the place, digging up the tulips, leaving excavation in their wake. Time for them to go on vacation but, the pie might be a better idea! Just kidding!! Great post, made me smile.