Diamond Tooth Taxidermy

Exquisite Taxidermy Art and Design

© 2013 Diamond Tooth Taxidermy
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About Beth Beverly

I am a State and Federally licensed taxidermist who graduated from the Pocono Institute of Taxidermy in 2010 with high marks. I have a deep respect for this craft and those who strive to preserve it.

It is my pleasure to work on any trophy mount, be it a shoulder, life-size, rug, or fish.

I accept custom orders for fantasy mounts, wearables, and bridal hair pieces.

Sculptural mounts and hats are available for rental provided they are in stock at time of inquiry.

Contact me describing your wish and I will be delighted to make it so.

Diamond Tooth Taxidermy Blog:

Welsh Rarebit? Joke's on me.

A few weeks ago I skinned a rabbit for a future project and froze the meat until the time was right for a meal.  That time was two days ago when I accidentally defrosted said rabbit and not the ground raw rabbit meal intended for the cats.  Still coming out of my derby stupor (amongst other jobs) I threw my human food rabbit into a marinade comprised of a Budweiser (door prize beer; my husband and his friends play this game of leaving a shitty beer in the fridge door for one another.  I don't drink beer so I don't get it, apparently) and agave syrup with a healthy dash of salt and bay leaves.  My anemic culinary muscle twitched and I hoped fo the best.

I searched for a rabbit recipe on one of my husband's favorite blogs, Glutton for Life.  This yielded a fascinating entry about Welsh Rarebit, with instructions, so I hastily ("I'm late, I'm late!" ) jotted down the crap I needed to buy and caught the train to whatever job I had to work that day.

That day turned into a clusterfuck of late trains and rainy weather and I had to walk too far carrying too much in the cold to even talk about.  Regardless, it was one of those times where I was eager for a hot meal consisting of warm meat and butter and bread. Then I really read the recipe and laughed at myself.

There is no rabbit in Welsh Rarebit.

I don't know if it's a joke or what but there was no turning back at this point.  I put the meat on a skillet and just figured I could incorporate it into the meal.



That is Jim showing me how to "stream" liquid in to the pan.  Apparently I wasn't doing it right.


When it was all said and done, the whole thing seemed to me like a glorified shit on a shingle.

The color and consistency were drab, gross, even... but the taste was dripping with warm, fatty blissful COMFORT.

Jim took a picture from his side of the table of me eating.  He was kind enough to greet me at the door with a towel and my bathrobe, which I was still wearing come dinner time. This image would perfectly encapsulate the idea of warm and cozy nights, except my hands are so fucked up.  I hurt them a bit with all the delicate work I've done on Derby stuff (plus aerial training) the last few weeks but JESUS, I've never wanted to go to finishing school more than I do now, looking at my awkward paws man-handling the fork and knife like some savage.  If I'm ever going to famous I need to be composed around a table setting, for crying out loud.


So that's the Diamond Tooth version of Welsh Rarebit. It was tasty, gooey and good.  Not good enough to repeat, but a moment in time worth noting nonetheless.



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