Forloren Hare

November turns the light in Copenhagen into something you can see through but not quite into. The trees along the lakes let go of the last of their leaves, and the butchers' windows fill with game. This is the month when forloren hare returns to the Danish kitchen, the dish whose name means mock hare, made for every household that could not afford the real thing and kept by every household that could.

Forloren hare is pork and beef seasoned with allspice, shaped into an oval loaf that echoes the saddle of a roasting hare, wrapped tightly in streaky bacon, and braised slowly in the oven until the meat is tender and the pan holds a dark, savory stock that becomes the gravy. Brun sovs, the brown gravy of the Danish Sunday table. It goes to the plate with boiled potatoes, pickled red cabbage, and a spoonful of redcurrant jelly that cuts the richness the way only fruit can.

I want you to pay attention to two things. First, the bacon. Don't skimp on it. Wrap the loaf so completely that nothing pale shows, because the bacon is both flavor and armor. Without it, the meat dries and the whole point is lost. Second, the pan juices. Don't throw anything away. Every brown speck on the bottom of the roasting tin is gravy waiting to happen. You'll know when it's right when the sauce tastes of the meat it came from, dark and deep and a little sweet. This is a dish cooked with love, and it has been made this way in Danish kitchens for well over a century.