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Jugged Hare

Jugged Hare

Created by Chef Thomas

A whole hare braised for hours in red wine and port, the sauce darkened with blood and finished with forcemeat balls, the kind of cooking that asks everything of you and repays it at the table.

Soups & Stews
British
Special Occasion
Dinner Party
1 hr
Active Time
3 hr 30 min cook4 hr 30 min total
Yield6 servings

January. The kitchen window is black by half four, rain against the glass, and the casserole has been in the oven since lunchtime. The smell has changed three times already: first the searing, hot and iron-sharp, then the wine hitting the pan in a cloud of steam, and now this low, steady warmth that fills the room like a blanket pulled up to the chin. This is a jugged hare. It is not quick. It is not simple. It is, on the right evening, one of the finest things you can put on a table.

I don't make this often. Once, maybe twice a winter, when the butcher has a hare hanging and the weather is cold enough to justify the commitment. A jugged hare is not a casual supper. It's a dish that belongs to a particular kind of day: short light, long evening, the sort of company that doesn't mind sitting at the table for a while. You need a good hare, a bottle of wine you'd drink yourself, some port, and a willingness to give up your afternoon. The sauce, thickened at the end with the animal's blood, turns glossy and dark and impossibly rich. It is the reason the dish exists.

The forcemeat balls are not optional. They're part of the tradition, small and herby and crisp, a counterpoint to all that dark, winey depth. I learned to make them from a handwritten recipe in a second-hand book, the kind with stains on the pages and someone's notes in the margins. The note next to the forcemeat balls said: "more lemon next time." I've followed that instruction ever since.

I wrote it down in the notebook last February: "Hare. Blood sauce. Forcemeat. The kitchen smelled like a country pub in 1965. Everyone went quiet after the first mouthful." That's the test. When the table goes quiet, you've done it right.

The technique, the tradition, and the story behind every dish.

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Ingredients

whole hare

Quantity

1

jointed into 8 pieces, blood reserved

plain flour

Quantity

2 tablespoons

seasoned with salt and pepper

butter

Quantity

40g

vegetable oil

Quantity

2 tablespoons

onions

Quantity

2 medium

roughly chopped

carrots

Quantity

2

peeled and cut into thick rounds

celery

Quantity

2 sticks

sliced

garlic

Quantity

4 cloves

lightly crushed

red wine

Quantity

1 bottle (750ml)

port

Quantity

150ml

beef or game stock

Quantity

500ml

bay leaves

Quantity

2

thyme

Quantity

4 sprigs

juniper berries

Quantity

6

lightly crushed

black peppercorns

Quantity

8

orange peel

Quantity

1 strip

redcurrant jelly

Quantity

1 tablespoon

hare's blood

Quantity

approximately 100ml

salt and black pepper

Quantity

to taste

fresh white breadcrumbs

Quantity

120g

suet

Quantity

60g

lemon zest

Quantity

1 lemon

flat-leaf parsley

Quantity

2 tablespoons

finely chopped

thyme leaves

Quantity

1 teaspoon

nutmeg

Quantity

generous grating

egg

Quantity

1

beaten

fine sea salt

Quantity

pinch

butter for frying forcemeat balls

Quantity

a knob

Equipment Needed

  • Large cast iron casserole with lid (at least 4-litre capacity)
  • Heavy-based frying pan for the forcemeat balls
  • Fine-mesh sieve for straining the sauce
  • Wooden spoon

Instructions

  1. 1

    Brown the hare

    Dust the hare joints in the seasoned flour, shaking off any excess. Heat the butter and oil together in a heavy casserole over a high flame. When the butter foams and the foam starts to subside, lay the joints in, a few at a time. Don't crowd the pan. You want a deep, mahogany crust on each piece, and that only happens if the meat has room and the heat stays fierce. Turn each joint as it colours. This takes patience. Perhaps fifteen minutes for all the pieces, working in batches. Set them aside on a plate as they're done.

    Hare is lean and dark, closer to venison than to rabbit. It needs the good colour here because this is where the depth of the final sauce begins. Don't rush this step.
  2. 2

    Build the base

    Turn the heat down. Add the onions, carrots, and celery to the fat left in the pan. Stir them through the sticky residue on the bottom and let them soften for eight to ten minutes, until the onions are translucent and the kitchen starts to smell savoury and sweet. Add the garlic, the juniper berries, peppercorns, bay leaves, thyme, and the strip of orange peel. Stir everything together for a minute until the herbs start to release their scent.

  3. 3

    Add wine and stock

    Pour in the red wine and the port. Let it come to a lively bubble, scraping the bottom of the pan with a wooden spoon to dissolve all the dark, caramelised bits. These matter. Let the wine reduce by about a third, which takes five minutes or so, until the raw alcohol smell has gone and what remains smells rich and concentrated. Add the stock, stir in the redcurrant jelly, and bring everything back to a simmer.

    Use a wine you'd happily drink a glass of while cooking. Nothing expensive, but nothing you wouldn't pour for yourself. The wine becomes the sauce, and the sauce is the whole point.
  4. 4

    Braise the hare

    Return all the hare joints to the casserole. The liquid should come most of the way up the meat but needn't cover it entirely. Put the lid on, slightly ajar, and slide it into an oven set at 150C/130C fan. Leave it alone. Three hours, checking once at the halfway mark. The hare is ready when the meat yields easily from the bone but hasn't fallen apart. It should give when you press it with a spoon but still hold its shape. The braising liquid will have reduced and darkened to something that looks and smells like a proper sauce.

    Hare takes longer than you expect. The legs especially need time. If they're still resistant after three hours, give them another thirty minutes. The saddle joints will be ready sooner, so remove those first if needed.
  5. 5

    Make the forcemeat balls

    While the hare braises, make the forcemeat balls. Combine the breadcrumbs, suet, lemon zest, parsley, thyme, nutmeg, and salt in a bowl. Add the beaten egg and work everything together with your hands until it holds when pressed. Roll into balls about the size of a walnut. You should get twelve or so. Fry them gently in butter, turning occasionally, until golden all over and cooked through. They should be crisp on the outside and soft within, herby and rich and a little bit lemony. Set them aside while you finish the sauce.

  6. 6

    Finish with the blood

    Lift the hare joints out carefully and keep them warm under foil. Strain the braising liquid through a sieve into a clean pan, pressing the vegetables to extract everything they have. Bring it to a gentle simmer. Take the pan off the heat. This is important: the pan must be off the heat. Stir a few tablespoons of the hot liquid into the blood to temper it, then pour the blood mixture back into the pan, stirring constantly. Return the pan to the lowest heat you have and stir until the sauce thickens to something that coats the back of a spoon. It will turn glossy and dark, almost black in certain lights. Do not let it boil. If the blood boils, it curdles, and the sauce is lost. Season with salt and pepper. Taste it. The sauce should be deep, winey, slightly gamey, with a dark richness that nothing else quite replicates.

    If you can't get the blood, or would rather not use it, the dish is still worth making. Stir a tablespoon of flour into a knob of softened butter, whisk it into the strained sauce in small pieces, and simmer until thickened. It won't be jugged hare in the traditional sense, but it will still be a very fine thing.
  7. 7

    Serve

    Arrange the hare joints on a warmed serving dish or divide between warmed plates. Pour the sauce over generously. Nestle the forcemeat balls alongside. Serve with something plain that will soak up the sauce without competing with it: mashed potatoes, or good bread, or both. A dish of braised red cabbage on the side if you have the energy, but nothing more.

Chef Tips

  • Find a butcher who can supply the hare with its blood. This is the dish's signature and the thing that sets it apart from any other braise. Ring ahead. Most decent butchers will reserve one for you, especially in season. Hare season runs from August to February, but this is really a midwinter dish.
  • Hare is nothing like rabbit. It's darker, leaner, and more intensely flavoured. Treat it more like venison than poultry. It wants long, slow heat and plenty of liquid. The reward is meat that falls from the bone with a depth of flavour that no other British game quite matches.
  • The blood must not boil. I'll say it again because it matters: temper it with hot liquid first, stir it in off the heat, then warm the sauce through on the lowest flame you have. If it boils, the proteins seize and the sauce turns grainy. Steady nerves and a gentle hand.
  • This wants a red wine alongside it at the table, something with weight but not too much fruit. A Côtes du Rhône or a good Rioja. Nothing fancy. Just something that speaks the same language as the dish.
  • The forcemeat balls are best fried in butter until properly golden, not just pale. They should have a crust that gives way to a soft, herby middle. Make them in advance if it helps. They'll reheat well in the oven while you finish the sauce.

Advance Preparation

  • The hare can be browned and the braise assembled a day ahead. Cool and refrigerate overnight, then bring slowly back to a simmer in the oven the next day. The flavour deepens with a night's rest.
  • Forcemeat balls can be shaped a day ahead, covered, and refrigerated. Fry them while the sauce is being finished.
  • The sauce can be strained and kept separate from the meat overnight. Add the blood only at the very end, just before serving. Never reheat a blood-thickened sauce.

Frequently Asked Questions

Nutrition Information

1 serving (about 330g)

Calories
610 calories
Total Fat
30 g
Saturated Fat
14 g
Trans Fat
1 g
Unsaturated Fat
15 g
Cholesterol
195 mg
Sodium
790 mg
Total Carbohydrates
28 g
Dietary Fiber
2 g
Sugars
9 g
Protein
50 g

Note: Chef personas and recipes are created with AI assistance. Cook with care: follow safe food-handling practices, check doneness with a thermometer when needed, and adapt for allergies and your kitchen.

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