Rabbit Ragout & Soppressata Ramen
Look, I know rabbit isn't exactly what most people think of when they're planning their weekly grocery run, but hear me out—this lean, slightly gamey meat has been feeding people for centuries, and there's a reason it's still around. When you braise it low and slow with aromatic vegetables and wine, it becomes incredibly tender and develops this rich, complex flavor that's like chicken's more sophisticated older sibling. The soppressata adds this spicy, fennel-scented punch that cuts through the richness and keeps things interesting, while the whole thing simmers down into this deeply satisfying ragout that clings to ramen noodles like it was always meant to be there. It's the kind of dish that makes you feel connected to some ancient tradition of cooking whatever you could catch or find, except you probably bought your rabbit from a fancy butcher and you're eating it while scrolling through your phone. The flavors are bold and unapologetic—this isn't delicate food, it's hearty, soul-warming comfort that doesn't care if you think it's weird.
Sage smoke, hillside dusk—Rabbit rests in crimson broth—Noodles chase the hunt
Let Me Tell You...
I first tried rabbit at this tiny trattoria in Tuscany, where the owner's grandmother was still cooking in the back kitchen at age eighty-seven.
She served it with this incredible ragout that had been simmering for hours, and when I asked her about the recipe, she just laughed and said something in rapid Italian that roughly translated to "you cook what you have, not what you want." That philosophy stuck with me, especially when I found myself staring at a whole rabbit at the farmer's market, wondering if I had the courage to actually buy it and figure out what to do with it.
The first time I cooked rabbit, I was terrified I'd mess it up and waste this expensive, unusual ingredient on my own incompetence.
But there's something about braising that's almost foolproof—you brown the meat, add liquid and aromatics, then let time do most of the work.
The soppressata was my own addition, inspired by a charcuterie board I'd had at an Italian restaurant where the spicy salami had this incredible fennel flavor that made everything else taste better.
When I added it to the ragout, it transformed the whole dish, adding this smoky, spicy depth that made the rabbit taste more complex and interesting.
What I love about this dish is how it connects you to this ancient tradition of nose-to-tail cooking, of using every part of the animal and not wasting anything.
The rabbit becomes incredibly tender after that long braise, falling apart into these silky strands that soak up all the wine and tomato flavors.
The ramen noodles might seem like a weird addition, but they're actually perfect—they have this chewy texture that holds onto the ragout and makes every bite substantial and satisfying.
It's the kind of meal that makes you feel like you're participating in something bigger than just dinner.
Now this has become my signature dish for impressing people who think they know what adventurous eating looks like.
They see "rabbit" on the menu and get all nervous, but then they taste it and realize it's just incredibly delicious braised meat that happens to come from an animal they're not used to eating.
It's taught me that the best cooking often comes from pushing past your comfort zone and trusting that good techniques can make almost anything taste incredible.
Ingredients
- 8 ounces dried ramen noodles (2 bricks, seasoning packets discarded)
- 1 1/2 pounds rabbit (legs or bone-in pieces), cut into chunks
- 4 ounces soppressata, sliced into thin strips
- 2 tablespoons olive oil
- 2 tablespoons unsalted butter
- 1 small yellow onion, finely diced
- 2 carrots, peeled and diced
- 2 celery stalks, diced
- 3 cloves garlic, minced
- 1 tablespoon tomato paste
- 1/2 cup dry white wine
- 1 (14-ounce) can diced tomatoes, drained
- 2 cups chicken or vegetable stock
- 1 teaspoon dried thyme
- 1/2 teaspoon dried rosemary
- 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
- Kosher salt, to taste
- 1/4 cup chopped fresh parsley
- 1 bay leaf
- Zest of 1 lemon
Preparation
- Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Cook ramen noodles for 2–3 minutes until just tender, drain, rinse under cool water, and set aside.
- Season rabbit pieces with salt and pepper. In a large Dutch oven or deep skillet, heat olive oil and butter over medium-high heat. Add rabbit and brown on all sides, working in batches if necessary. Remove and set aside.
- Add onion, carrots, and celery to the pot. Sauté for 5 minutes until softened. Add garlic and cook for 1 minute more.
- Stir in tomato paste and cook for 1 minute, then add white wine and simmer until reduced by half, about 2 minutes.
- Return rabbit to the pot. Add diced tomatoes, stock, thyme, rosemary, bay leaf, and soppressata. Bring to a simmer, cover, and cook gently for 40–50 minutes, until rabbit is tender and easily pulls from the bone. Remove bay leaf.
- Remove rabbit pieces and shred meat from bones, discarding bones. Return meat to the pot and stir to combine. Adjust seasoning with salt and pepper.
- Stir in lemon zest and parsley, reserving some for garnish.
- Add cooked noodles to the ragout and toss gently to coat and heat through.
- Divide rabbit ragout ramen among bowls. Top with remaining parsley, lemon zest, and desired toppings.
Chef's Tips
- Brown rabbit pieces in batches to avoid overcrowding and ensure proper caramelization for maximum flavor development.
- Simmer ragout low and slow until rabbit meat easily pulls from the bone - rushing will result in tough, chewy meat.
- Variation: Substitute rabbit with duck legs, lamb shoulder, or wild boar for different gamey flavor profiles.
Serving Suggestion
Serve in rustic ceramic bowls with crusty Tuscan bread, aged Pecorino Romano, and a robust Chianti Classico for an authentic Italian farmhouse experience.