Silence. That's the most memorable thing about this meal. Absolute silence. The occasional slurp of wine, the crunch of bruschetta, the gentle smacking of lips and the soft plop of sucked fingers. The gentle fizz of some Cava. Nothing else. No conversation. The recipe is from Gennaro Contaldo's Passione. Hunks of floured wild rabbit are thrown into a searing hot pan, browned and then slow cooked with rosemary and garlic for half an hour. A healthy dose of white wine is thrown in and then bubbled off. All served with some garlic bruschetta. However, that really doesn't cover it. I loved this dish, it charmed me utterly. Gnawing on rabbit bones, hands and face covered in grease I was transported, I was taken from an autumnal London to Southern Italy, not only of Gennaro Contaldo's but that of my family. A moment of recognition, a racial memory stirred, a moment of ephiphanal joy at eating something I felt deeply connected with. Food for the soul. Stunning.