Duck
I’ve been itching to make duck for quite some
time. It’s something I’ve long-loved but never dared to attempt at
home, always having been somewhat intimidated by selection, price and the
challenge of getting it just right. Undercook it and it will be greasy;
overcook it and you’ll be eating rubber ducky for dinner.
Several months ago, I brought it up over
breakfast with Dad and Sal. Dad mmm-ed. Sal said “quack,” and
added that the best way to deal with duck is to leave it on the lake. This may
well be true, but I couldn’t help fantasizing about its robust flavor and
which rich, sensual and assertive ingredients I could pair with it. For weeks I
swayed between garlic and port, red cabbage and prunes, or five spice and soy.
In the end, the former won for three reasons: because it didn’t call for
days of drying in front of a fan, because of the recipe’s overwhelmingly
positive 4-fork reviews on Epicurious.com, and because of Jacob’s lack of
enthusiasm for sweet entrees.
For years,
duck has been the fine-feathered victim of fat phobia. This is wrongful and
unjust! Although ducks have a large amount of fat stored directly under the
skin, there is no intramuscular marbling at all. In fact, new nutrition data
approved by the U. S. Department of Agriculture shows that white Pekin duckling
is lower in fat and calories than skinless chicken breast, the darling of the
diet industry. A 3.5-ounce serving of skinless duckling breast has 2.5 grams of
fat and 140 calories, compared with chicken breast's 3.6 grams of fat and 165
calories. So take that, Perdue.
The
White Pekin duck makes up for 95% of U.S. duck consumption though it is
relatively new to America. In 1873, a Chinese Clipper ship crossed the Pacific
with a few on board, marking the beginning of America's domestic duck industry.
All the Pekin ducks in the United States today are descended from the three
ducks and a drake that arrived on that ship. (It should be noted: Pekin duck
without a “g” is a breed. Peking duck with a “g” is a
recipe.)
I bought a 5 pound duckling at
the grocery store. It was oblong compared to a chicken’s roughly circular
form, but I wouldn’t exactly call it slender - the infamous layer of fat
under its skin was almost a quarter inch thick. Poor little chubbers. I
trimmed off a good deal of it and scored the rest so that it would render more
easily. I brushed the bird all over with soy sauce, for salinity and color, and
then rubbed it with a Dijon mustard and garlic mixture. On top of this and in
the cavity I sprinkled salt, pepper and thyme. I started it roasting at about
400 degrees breast side down (on Krista’s marvelous and
generously-donated-for-the-cause V-shaped rack) and about 45 minutes in, flipped
it right side up. This process supposedly helps the skin to
crisp.
Meanwhile, I made duck stock by
simmering onions, celery and carrots in a pot of water with all those
unidentified bits and pieces that come inside a packaged foul. (Foul indeed - I
usually try to ignore them.) After an hour, I strained it, brought it back to a
boil and reduced it to a cup. In a separate pan, I sautéed a good amount
of sliced garlic in butter, and then poured in a cup of ruby port. This I
boiled for a few minutes, added the reduced stock, and reduced it again to about
a cup. I then seasoned it and thickened it up with a little flour and butter.
The result was a luscious silken deep purple sauce –
gorgeous.
As the duck was approaching
medium rare, I roasted several cloves of garlic in olive oil, topped and tailed
some fresh green beans and steamed them, boiled some potatoes and mashed them
with the roasted garlic, and for a few final minutes, jacked up the heat in the
oven to put a final crisp on the duck’s skin. I also had a cocktail with
Jacob and Cristina, who I simply had to invite over since we had discussed
making duck on several occasions over
Pilates.
Part of the allure of duck is
its gourmet cachet. To play it up a bit, I brought out the china and crystal.
On each plate I fanned thin slices of breast meat with sauce drizzled on top,
and arranged a scoop of potatoes and an artful bundle of green beans on the
side. It was a lovely dinner. Cristina brought an Australian Shiraz that
paired beautifully and gave way to another bottle as the evening progressed.
The duck was tender and bursting with flavor. It wasn’t gamey, as many
people claim, but slightly sweet, with a richness and depth uncharacteristic of
poultry. It seems somehow unbelievable that we have ignored this healthful,
delicious meat for so long. No longer. Peking duck (with a “g”)
will be next.
Posted: Fri - March 19, 2004 at 04:58 PM