I love Italy. Of all the countries of the world, it's my absolute favorite. Granted, I adore French cuisine, British humor and (most) American cinema, but there's something special about that boot-shaped gem of the Mediterranean. It's not just Italy's incredibly agreeable weather, nor is it the country's gorgeous and varied landscapes. Sure, there's plenty to love about the old, ornate cities, the amazing Renaissance art and the unparalleled classical music tradition of Italy. And who could ignore the historical importance of the Roman Empire? Just looking at the ruins of the grand Colosseum sends shivers down the spine of anyone who appreciates the way that culture shaped the world. Ah, but today my love for Italy isn't about any of those things, great as they are. Today I extend my affection to one of its citizens, an elderly TV chef named Beppe Bigazzi.
You see, Bigazzi has been the host of an authentic Italian cooking show on the state-run television network RAI-Uno for years, or at least he was until a couple weeks ago when he took some time out from the tortellini to teach viewers how to cook a savory Tuscan cat. With the same matter-of-fact tone as your grandpa talking about taking tin cans down to the scrap yard for pennies during the depression, Beppe Bigazzi began regaling audiences and his co-host Elisa Isoardi with the proper, rustic Italian way to cook a cat.
Now, Bigazzi didn't go so far as to have an actual cat on the set, which is unfortunte because that would have been awesome, but his recipe got enough people angry that RAI-Uno booted him off his show for good. It should be noted that killing and eating a cat is illegal in Italy, but that doesn't change the fact that Beppe Bigazzi, that 77-year-old coot, is my new hero.
In honor of Beppe's courageous attempt to enlighten his viewers, I would like to present my own recipe for a simple but delicious provincial-style roast cat.
First off, cats are tough and sinewy, being descended from hunting animals. It is imperative that anyone who wishes to have a decent meal of cat understands the principles of slow-roasting. Bigazzi recommends tenderizing the meat by soaking it in running spring water for as many as three days, but seeing as most people today don't have access to running springs as Beppe did on his family's World War II era farm, it's better to go for more modern methods of softening your cat meat. Because so much flavor is preserved by bone, I wouldn't opt for pounding. Instead, it's best to let your cat sit in a 200 degree oven for several hours as the connective tissue breaks down and the meat proceeds to fall off the bone, covered to retain moisture.
For an American-style cat you can behead the carcas either after dressing or while pretty-kitty is still alive. That's all up to you, but there's nothing wrong with a classic European head-still-on cat roast. It's important to make sure you properly shave, gut and clean Mr. Mittens before popping him into the oven. For stuffing I suggest a mix of carrot, onion, potato and fresh herbs. Rub the roast down liberally with butter, season with salt and pepper, and place it in a sturdy roasting pan with a lid or covered in tin foil. For some extra pop, lay Mr. Mittens to rest in a bath of dry white wine or maybe even a little cognac.
Depending on the size of your cat you'll want to let it cook for three to five hours on this low setting, checking periodically to test the tenderness of the meat. When it looks like it's about ready to come out, uncover the pan and let it sit in the oven for another fifteen to twenty minutes for color.
Using this easy at-home method, you too can enjoy this curious culinary creature just as Beppe Bigazzi did all those years ago on the farm. And don't worry about animal rights activists. Sooner or later they will realize that cats are inherently evil creatures that exist for no reason other than to make human lives miserable. Bon appetite.
