Ducks in a Row

I casually picked up a duck breast at the farmer’s market today without much of a plan. The Hudson Valley Duck folks assured me that the Lola variety is leaner and more flavorful than standard Pekin or Moulard. “It’s a bit gamier,” they said, “but if you’re a duck lover you’ll love it.” When I confirmed my membership in that particular club, they suggested that we use any leftovers for duck and eggs in the morning. Duck and eggs for breakfast? I think these people are my people.

We’ve been reviewing Grenache for my Serious Eats column (here are the cheap ones, and here are a few more under $25), and every wine we taste seems to beg for duck. There’s something about these wines–they’re rich with a hint of herbs, licorice and lavender, blackberry and seeded raspberry jam. They’re smooth and cherried and a little beguiling, somewhere between the bravado of Shiraz and the silky whispers of Pinot Noir. They call out for a little decadence, but there’s something subtle about them, something steak wouldn’t really ignite. Lamb works fine, but duck is really the perfect, luscious match.

To pick up the berried and spiced flavors in the wine, I added a handful of blackberries and star anise to the pan sauce. The berries soften and become infused in the sauce without adding too much sweetness. Each ingredients gives a little and mingles with the rest. A bite, a sip, and you’ll lose track of where the duck ends and the wine begins. Which is a very good thing.

Want more duck?
Try Shiv’s Roast Cherriyaki Duck or this Giant Duck Salad.

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Beyond Pork and Beans: Lamb and Duck Cassoulet

Matt and I rented a studio apartment a few years ago for a week in Paris—Montmartre to be exact. We bought cheeses from the store across the cobblestoned street, picnicked outside the Louvre, and wandered around until we’d exhausted ourselves.

At a casual bistro up the block from our little apartment, we ordered cheap wine and a giant cassoulet. There was something so elemental about it, so rustic and warming and luscious, I couldn’t get it out of my mind. I’ve made a number of attempts to duplicate it with mixed results.

I hosted an evening of beer tasting the other night, and I needed a main course to serve after the tasting that could wait patiently in the oven until we had rendered our verdict. This is often the case when entertaining: whatever you’re serving needs to be flexible, in case someone is caught on the train, or stuck in the office, or you’re just serving leisurely appetizers. It’s good to have a list of dishes like this: not necessarily low-maintenance, but definitely low pressure in the hour before serving.

Since some of my guests don’t eat pork, I was determined to create a rich, decadent spin on cassoulet without it. I’m a bit surprised to say this, but we didn’t miss the pork at all. (A little lamb belly and duck confit do a bit to calm that particular yearning.) This cassoulet isn’t going to win any beauty contests, but it was darn tasty.

I cooked the beans according to a quick no-soak method I learned on The Paupered Chef. If anything, the beans ended up overcooked—you’re probably safe leaving them quite al dente at first, since they’re going to keep cooking in the stew.

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Take that, swine flu! Comforting duck noodle soup

It’s the cardinal rule: thou shalt not blog about work. And so I shan’t, except to say that for reasons best left unelaborated, I’ve spent the last week or so hearing an awful lot about Swine Flu; a very bad state of affairs for a certified hypochondriac such as myself. That being the case, I’m sure you can imagine how I reacted when Bench revealed to me on Monday that he was feeling a bit, shall we say, under the weather. That’s right. SWINE FLU*. Cue the sirens and the respiratory mask.

*Note: Bench does not have swine flu.

After my hysteria subsided, I decided that the best thing I could contribute to the situation was soup, for both our sakes. Specifically, duck noodle soup. Conveniently, I still had the remains of the duck from the Cherryaki duck experiment kicking it in my freezer; I also had a lot of fresh scallions, some star anise, some udon noodles, and a long-standing desire to replicate the rich, delicious duck soup from Q2 thai in midtown. All I needed was a reason, and here it was: Bench was sick, and I needed to come up with A Project to keep from hovering and making it worse. Win win!

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Fair and fowl: Cherryaki Roast Duck

When I first took a stab at cooking poultry, I did so with a silent promise to myself: Thou shalt take these lessons you learn and ultimately use them to cook a duck. Why this particular piece of fowl was so important to me, I couldn’t begin to tell you; why I couldn’t bring myself to START with this is no easier to explain. Suffice it to say, it had something to do with compressed air blowers, chinese restaurants, and the general fatty nature of the duck.

Mostly the fatty part, I think. Despite the fact that it is, truly, what makes the duck delicious, I find the sheer volume of fat that comes attached to a duck a little daunting. But, after our little trip to the Essex market, I was determined to be daunted no longer. So, I turned (as I so often do when looking for info about basic technique) to Mark Bittmann, who not only had several excellent tips on roasting duck, but an excellent suggestion for how to solve the fat conundrum: harness the power of steam!

By steaming the duck before roasting, you melt some of the prodigious fat layer, allowing it to drip out of the duck before you commit it to the oven. You’re left with a delicious bird (with a significantly more manageable fat quotient) and a cup or two of nicely rendered duck fat, which you can whack in your freezer and use intermittently in place of butter or oil. Steaming the duck also gives you an early opportunity to add flavor to the bird; flavoring the steaming water imparts a subtle flavor to the meat. Since I decided I wanted an asian-style duck (I have a moderate obsession with peking duck), I used star anise, mustardseed and cinnamon; I used the same flavors during the roast itself, and in the sauce/glaze. Hitting the seasonings three times made the taste of the meat unbelievably delicate and luscious.

Being the sensible, frugal girl that I am, I used some of the fat I’d rendered out to roast up the potatoes. Believe me when I tell you that you should try doing that, too. It’s not for the faint of heart, but good goddamn, it is delicious.

Roast Cherryaki Duck

1 duckling, 4-6 lb

To steam:
2-4 c water
2 sticks cinnamon
2 tsp mustard seed
3-4 star anise, whole

To roast:
2 tsp cinnamon
kosher salt
1 orange, zested and then sliced
1/2 large yellow onion (or one small red onion), sliced

For the sauce:
1/2c cherry preserves
1/2c soy sauce
1/2c chicken stock
1/4c white wine vinegar
2 cinnamon sticks
3 pieces star anise
1/4c honey

1. Start by steaming the duck on your stovetop–put a rack in a nice, large pan, and then fill it with about 1-2 inches of water. Add spices. Prick the skin of the duck all over with a sharp knife or fork (take care not to prick the meat–you have about 1/4 inch of fat before you hit it), and then place it breast side down on the rack. Set heat to high, cover tightly and steam for about 45 minutes, replenishing the boiling water when it starts to run a little dry. I used my wok for this, wrapped in about eight hundred wasteful (yet effective!) layers of foil. Let it cool for at least 15 minutes before doing anything else with it.
2. While it’s cooling crank up your oven to 375 and start the sauce–put the preserves, soy sauce, honey, cinnamon, star anise, stock, and vinegar in a small saucepan; bring to a boil, then drop the heat to keep it simmering.
3. Once the duck’s cooled a bit, rub the skin (on both sides) with a little kosher salt, orange zest and cinnamon, and stuff the body cavity with sliced onions and oranges. Place breast-side down on a rack in a roasting dish, and baste. Cook for 15-20 minutes (depending on the size of the bird). Remove from oven, flip over, baste the other side. Crank your oven to 425, then roast for 15-20 more minutes, until the skin is nice and crispy.