With this dish, it’s St. Patrick’s Day every week in my house! This mystical cut is slow-cooked in a delicious sweet and spicy sauce until tender, and adorned with cheerful—and festive—Lucky Charms. Leprechaun isn’t a common cut in butcher’s shops, on account of their so-called “sentience.” But that’s no issue; butchering your very own leprechaun is such a rewarding experience! Give it a try, and you’ll have the most decadent, delicious St. Patrick’s Day treat at the barbecue.
Ingredients and Supplies
- (3 pound) Leprechaun brisket, trimmed of fat
- Salt and pepper, to taste
- 1 medium onion, thinly sliced
- 1 (12 ounce) bottle tomato-based chili sauce
- ¾ cup packed brown sugar
- Scalder
- .22 Caliber Rifle (On Sale at the Local Walmart!)
- Sticking knife
- Gambrel and chains
- Butcher’s knives
Directions
Butchering
- Acquiring Your Leprechaun
I’ve got a guy up North (Northern Ireland, that is) who runs me Leps, no questions asked. If you don’t, though, no worries! Leprechauns can be found as keynote speakers at Cryptocurrency conferences. Pots of gold don’t keep up with inflation. Happy hunting!
- Decluttering
You’ll need to heat about a hundred gallons of water to 145 degrees for scalding. It’ll take a few hours, so we can start the rest of our prep while we wait.
If you’ve got yourself a wild one, you’re going to need to tidy it up. This one’s covered in rainbow glitter and skin-tight leather, so I’ll be stripping it down first. Carefully remove any clothing or accessories from your Lep. Set it aside—the leather goes for a lot at the Farmer’s Market, and it’s kinda flattering. Just tell ‘em it’s from an exotic goat.
Oh, look, a necklace. “I-HEART-ANNIE.” Wife, maybe? Must’ve been a sentimental guy. You find gems like that all the time, I’ve even got a little collection . Real… treat of the trade.
- Draining
Now, you’ll need to get rid of the blood. Hang your Lep by the ankles with somethin’ sturdy, I prefer braided nylon. With your favorite sticking knife, cut the artery. They all have the same tattoo: “Save Mother Earth.” Y’know,I’m into environmentalism too. I volunteer at a sustainable farm in my spare time. Only got one planet to live on. Maybe we would have agreed on that..
Guy looks kinda familiar, actually…
Some keep the blood for sausages, but with Leps, you never really know what combination of seasoning and humming will turn your Sunday dinner into dark magic. So, I find avoiding blood rituals altogether the safest bet. We’ll still throw some salt over our shoulders when we marinate, though.
- Scalding
I hope you set the water to boilin’ early enough. Lower the Lep into the tank to get it all sanitized, and in my case, soak off the rest of that body glitter. Stuff gets everywhere.
- Scraping
The Leps call us long pigs, so we’ll be using a hog scraper to shear off these lovely red curls. Remember, go for the roots.
It can be hard to get it all off, sometimes. Everyone says gingers have no souls, right? It doesn’t matter if he’s got impeccable fashion sense and if I’ve maybe bumped into him at a Clean Air Protest. Right?
- Skinning
Hang ‘im with a gambrel and pulley system. You’re gonna want good, sharp butcher’s knives. Lep skin ain’t like a cow’s, it’s… stuck on.
That tattoo again. Gone, now. He’s not… human, is he? Huntin’ em’ is legal. They’re not people. They’re delicious! They don’t think like us, they barely live twenty years. It’s just survival. No different to killing a deer or a chicken. A man’s gotta… gotta eat, right?
He—it—can walk around draped in the clothes of a person all it wants, don’t make it one. A fun, short conversation over a harvest bed means nothing in the grand scheme of things. It’s like when your dog barks back at you. It’s entertaining, a pet play-acting at a man’s intelligence. Nothing more.
- Eviscerating
Get rid of the organs. Make a vertical incision in the sternum, throw away everything but the liver and… heart. Funny, ain’t it? Looks just like a human’s. A little smaller, maybe.
Just… follow a butcher’s diagram, when you’ve got the entrails out. Get your brisket ready for slow-roasting.
Try to ignore how peaceful he looks, above the neck. Like he could just be asleep.
Slow Roasting
- Preheating
Preheat your oven to 325 degrees F (165 degrees C).
There is so much blood on my hands.
Should I… turn myself in? To whom? It’s legal. No one says it’s illegal. He’s livestock. I’m doing nothing wrong.
It’s just… over the hum of the oven, the laughter of my kids upstairs… I can almost hear his heartbeat. I haven’t hunted in years, but I remember how loud they used to get, before they died. Pulse so thundering, so all-consuming for such a small guy, I could hear it clean across a room. I know it’s not real. I know I sold the rest of the meat, and by now his heart’s probably off in some school cafeteria’s mystery stew, but… I can still hear him.
Is his Annie still waiting at home, do you think?
- Seasoning
How can I look my children in the eyes, with what I’ve done? I’ve been doing it for years. My soul is tainted. I am doomed, and I deserve it, I do. I do. I’m so sorry. Please, God, spare me! Please, I didn’t know. I’ll never do it again, I know it was wrong, I’ll be so much better. Please you have to understand, you have to…
Show Comments (1):
the-meat-man: I’m still not donating to PETA.
—J. Jackson
