Brits Go Squirrely

12:30 PM -- Times are tough all over, and nowhere moreso than over in Blighty. The New York Times reports that the pasty-faced natives have been reduced to eating furry-tailed rats:

    Fergus Henderson, the chef and co-owner of St. John restaurant in London... sometimes prepares his squirrels “to recreate the bosky woods they come from,” braising them with bacon, “pig’s trotter, porcini and whole peeled shallots to recreate the forest floor.” He serves it with wilted watercress “to evoke the treetops.”
Mmmmm... Does anything evoke the bosky woods like pig's trotters?

But you need a deadeye to bag this delicacy:

    If you want to grab your shotgun, make sure you have very good aim — squirrels must be shot in the head; a body shot renders them impossible to skin or eat. (You want to get rid of the head in any event, as squirrel brains have been linked to variant Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease, the human form of mad cow disease.)
Just keeps sounding better, doesn't it? But if that hasn't sold you yet:

    A. H. Griffiths, who sells squirrel for the equivalent of about $3 per squirrel at the butcher shop in Shropshire that bears his name... is a fan of the meat, likening it to a slightly oily rabbit.
A slightly oily rabbit. That, from a fan.

— Larry, Attack Monkey, Light Reading

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