Rachel's cute little facebook inquiry--"How do you cook a whistle pig?"--was, I thought, just clever. But no. She really wanted to know. The ground-hog pelt curled up tidily in a bowl on the table and the skinny little bald carcass marinating on the counter transmitted the brutal reality swiftly and unmistakably.
Whistle-pigs, AKA ground hogs, look pretty darling standing on their hind legs, little arms tucked into chests, surveying their territory. But these most innocuous of creatures can destroy a garden patch in no time flat, and the gentle vegan farmer becomes a raging homicidal maniac when one shows up inside the fence. The Barefoot Farmer once told me that he impulsively flung a pitchfork at a ground hog, and rejoiced in exultant surprise when he nailed the little bastard.
Our own whistle-pig was brought down by Red, EricTheFarmer's dog, carefully dissected by Rachel and a visiting German veterinarian (she knows her anatomy!), marinated, and transformed into a lovely stew.
I thought it smelled good, anyway. Not quite up to tasting it myself.