Twenty bucks says you’ll never stumble upon this recipe on Martha’s website or in Cooking Light and another twenty says you won’t find it in the syllabus when you work your way through your local master gardener’s certification program either. Safe money. So, at the very least, consider yourselves warned, for this is one of those stories/recipes that seems certain to offend nearly everyone on some level.  Animal lovers. Rat lovers. Rat haters. Chefs. Movie moguls. Vedic astrologers. Bascoes. Bureaucrats.  Have I left anyone out?  And to think that it has all come to pass this week, on the very eve of the opening of that new rodent-heroed Pixar movie, a mere coincidental bonus.  (Ahh, when life gives you lemons . . . )

Yes, gentle reader (WT, if you’re reading, that reference was for you), today we have what I consider a brilliant recipe for disposing of unwanted rats in a manner that is direct and to the point, though perhaps less umm, immediate and savory than the method recommended by King County.  To wit:

“DEAD RATS must first be wrapped in newspaper, or placed in a plastic bag before putting it in a tightly covered garbage can.

Injured or sick rats must be killed, then wrapped and put in the garbage can.

Try not to touch the dead rat. Use gloves if possible.

WASH YOUR HANDS WITH HOT WATER AND SOAP AFTER GETTING RID OF DEAD RATS! (even if you used gloves).”

Rat Rattatouille:  Take one unpoisoned (this part is very important), dead rat and place it belly up atop your neighbor’s cedar fence, well out of reach of small curious children but within sightline of neighborhood crows.  Allow crows to examine deceased rodent from safe vantages and at their leisure for several hours, or as much as a day, bearing in mind that crows are notoriously intelligent creatures and great jokesters with long memories, and therefore rather suspicious.  They know perhaps better than you how often they have pooped upon your newly washed car, how often they have fouled the birdbath within minutes of your refilling it with clean water, and they are always thinking about the ways you may try to get even with them. They have also heard that story of the ex-Lax laced rat trick from their grandparents while they were still flightless crowlets back in the rookerie, so there are many things they must consider before accepting your offering.   It is also true that crows often prefer things to have become a bit gamey before degustatation, so if they seem a bit reluctant to raid the fencetop larder, try to make allowances for your crows to be true to their gourmet natures.  Your job is to simply make the offering and then wait.

After the suitable amount of time has passed (only the crows will understand the nature of this particular clock), you will notice that your crows eagerly accept and take on their roles as messengers of Saturn, the god of harvest and agriculture, and therefore as recipients of your gifts of garden gratitude and propitiation.  Enjoy!  Or in some cases, Endure! Appeasement, as you can see, is seldom a pretty operation.

Note to reader:  Yes, I admit it, the rat pictured here was most definitely harmed prior to making these pictures, though he was dispatched as rapidly and humanely as possible with a rat-sized Victor snap-trap and a delicious last meal of peanut butter and rolled oats.  Dad says that a Peppermint Patty works even better, but I intend to save that as a higher enticement once the peanut butter combo becomes passé.  The deceased had been attracted to the crawl space beneath the back part of my house and deck by an immensity of birdseed scattered indiscriminantly by the raucous house sparrows who pretty much ruined the birdfeeder experience for everyone else.  Once all the seed had been scattered on the ground by these pint-sized ruffians for the second time in as many days, I decided to stop encouraging them and enabling their wasteful behavior.  But their handiwork and my failure to sweep it all up quickly enough brought in the rats (I assume there are yet more).  So, once again, a lesson in choices and their unintended consequences:  well-meaning gardener feeds pretty birds, who are pushed out by bickering House Sparrows who, in their battles and carelessness scatter far more seed on the ground than they could possibly eat, which then becomes a boon to the opportunistic rats who must then be dispatched before they get too well established and ultimately invade the house . . . and in this garden’s case . . .  dispatched rats are then fed  to (repurposed by), yet other garden enhancing birds, the crows. 

I agree, it ain’t pretty, but it is kinda beautiful in a grotesque and somewhat surreal way, a completed circle where nothing is completely wasted. And since I was going to have to exterminate those long-tailed vermin anyway, it made for one less rat in the landfill; a process not unlike putting my harvested cutworms on ‘The Rock’ in the middle of the birdbath for ‘repurposing’. 

Fat Rat Rattatouille.  It’s a good thing.  My crows love it.  Serve some up to your crows today.

Text and photos © 2007, David E. Perry.  All rights reserved.