When I perused the aisles at the local nursery last year for ideas on what to plant, I picked up a six pack of strawberry plants. They looked healthy, with tiny white flowers showing promise to produce berries. I planted them under the still leaf-less dogwood with hopes they would generate more flowers and subsequent berries. I got a total of 6.
This year, the plants crept past the dogwood into the garlic patch; from the beets to the kale bed. And the plants produced more fruit than I anticipated. I didn’t like how they cramped my other vegetables, but I decided wait and see how they tasted before I uproot them.
My first harvest was enough to actually make something, but opted for savoring their flavor, not masking it with too much sugar or cream. I also wanted to make sure they were worth the space. The berries were soft and juicy, as opposed to the hard and crunchy “berries” sold at the supermarket. They had a bright acidity with a little sweetness. (Though, right after brushing my teeth, I would have given them a different, less favorable description.)
I could have made strawberry shortcakes or a pie. Instead I decided to toss them with arugula and scallions from the garden, and season simply with balsamic vinegar, olive oil and black pepper. The salad was a perfect foil for Vanilla Scented Duck Breast (same marinade as used here). And the duck skin played the role of croutons.
The big question remains – will the plants live to see another season? The berries were good, and the yield was better than the raspberry plant. But I don’t like they way the plants creep around. I will probably cut back what has crept too much and leave the rest.
They say no idea is original, nor is any recipe. Most recipes take inspiration from someone else’s ideas. And my recipe for Juniper Scented Duck with Caramelized Balsamic Sauce and Celeriac Puree is no different.
Lorenza de Medici has a recipe for wild boar stew that has all sorts of unique flavorings and techniques. The marinade and subsequent braising liquid calls for juniper (the pine berry that is also the prominent flavoring in gin), red wine, carrots celery and onions. Separately, she caramelizes sugar with garlic, and then adds red wine vinegar to create a sweet and sour flavor. When the pork is cooked, the meat is pulled out, and the braising liquid (along with all the mushy vegetables) are pureed to act as a thickener to the stew. She finishes the sauce with chocolate, prunes and almonds.
As I often do, I substitute proteins within a recipe… chicken for pork, pork for duck, duck for beef or tuna, and so on… for this recipe, I decided duck breasts would be a fine substitute for the wild boar. And since duck breasts don’t require a long braising time (and in fact suffer from that) more modifications were necessary.
The duck received the same marinade as the original recipe. I then poached a technique from Thomas Keller to cook the duck “sous vide” I removed the skin, rolled up the duck breast lengthwise, the duck was rolled in a blanched cabbage leaf and then wrapped in plastic wrap like a tootsie roll. The whole package is poached in boiling water for 8 minutes for a perfect medium rare.
I liked the idea of the caramelized sugar for a sweet and sour sauce. But since I didn’t have red wine vinegar, I used balsamic instead. I didn’t want to lose the essence of the marinade, so I cooked that until the vegetables were tender, pureed that, and added it to the caramelized balsamic. Going back to the original recipe, I finished the sauce with chocolate. And recognizing my personal preferences, I omit the bay leaves, candied citron, raisins and pine nuts.
The prunes transformed into a tart relish with fresh plums, shallots and thyme.
Celeriac Puree pairs magically with the sauce – complimenting both the sweet and sour flavor, as well as the juniper.
Of course, I couldn’t lose the duck skin. Those went into the oven until they transformed into cracklings.
All together, this was an elegant main meal for the Passover Seder last week. I serve this dish year-round, sometimes with duck, other times with pork tenderloin, and sometimes even with tuna.
Original Recipe:
3 pounds wild boar
2 carrots, peeled and roughly chopped
2 celery stalks, roughly chopped
2 yellow onions, peeled and roughly chopped
½ bottle red wine
4 tbs. extra virgin olive oil
1 tsp. juniper berries
2 bay leaves
salt
1 tsp. black pepper
¼ cup sugar
½ cup red wine vinegar
4 cloves garlic, coarsely chopped
2 oz. grated bitter chocolate
1/3 cup raisins, soaked in water
½ cup pitted prunes, soaked in water
¼ cup pine nuts
1 tbs. candied citron, finely chopped.
1. Twenty-fours ahead, put the meat in a good-sized, flameproof casserole together with the carrots, celery and onions. Add the wine and marinate for 24 hours, turning from time to time.
2. On the serving day, remove the meat from the marinade and pat dry. In a large skillet, heat the olive oil until it begins to color. Brown the meat on all sides. Strain the vegetables from the marinade add to the meat with the juniper berries, 1 of the bay leaves, salt and pepper. Pour some of the marinade over. Cover and simmer for 1 ½ hours or until the meat is tender, adding the remaining marinade, a little at a time.
3. Transfer the meat to a flameproof casserole. Puree the vegetables, then pour them over the meat and reheat. In a sauce pan, melt the sugar with the garlic and remaining bay leaf, and cook until lightly colored. Add the vinegar and bitter chocolate. Boil for a few minutes. Add the sauce to the meat together with the raisins, prunes, pine nuts and candied citron. Simmer for an additional 10 minutes before serving.
Julia’s Revised Recipe
Duck Roulade with Caramelized Balsamic Sauce, Roasted Plums and Juniper
8 duck breasts, skin removed
2 carrots, peeled and chopped
2 celery stalks, chopped
2 onions, peeled and chopped
2 cups red wine
1 tsp. juniper berries
8 big leaves from savoy cabbage (with no splits or tears)
1/4 cup sugar
2 cloves garlic, finely chopped
1/2 cup balsamic vinegar
2 oz. chocolate or butter
2 plums, quartered and chopped
6 prunes, pitted and chopped coarsely.
1 tsp. thyme, chopped
1 shallot, sliced or diced
salt and pepper to taste
1. Marinate duck with wine, juniper, salt, pepper, carrots, onions, and celery for up to 24 hours.
2. Bring a pot of water to boil. Cook cabbage leaves for 1 or 2 minutes, or just until wilted. Drain. Carefully, cut away large rib.
3. Remove duck from marinade.
4. Tear off a piece of plastic wrap about 20 inches long, and lay it across a work surface. Place cabbage leaf down. Roll duck breast, lengthwise into cylinder, and place cylinder of cabbage leaf. Roll leaf around breast. Trim edges, and roll tightly into plastic wrap. Roll both ends of wrap to secure shape and tie with kitchen string. Refrigerate packets until ready to cook.
5. Meanwhile, combine the sugar with the garlic and ¼ cup of water in a small sauce pot. Stir, over high flame just until the sugar dissolves. When the sugar begins to caramelize and turns a deep amber color, add the vinegar. Simmer for 10 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the sugar re-dissolves (it will seize up with the vinegar is added)
6. Cook marinade in a covered sauce pot over medium flame until carrots are tender. Puree the vegetables with a little bit of the wine and add about 1/2 – 1 cup to the balsamic sauce (taste after adding 1/2 cup and add more to taste). Swirl in chocolate and set aside in a warm place.
7. Toss plums with shallots and thyme. Season with salt, pepper, and balsamic vinegar. Roast in the oven for 15 minutes. Mix with prunes
8. Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Add duck packages and cook for 8 minutes, for medium/medium-rare. Remove from water and let rest for a few minutes before removing the plastic and slicing.
9. Serve with asparagus and celeriac puree
Celeriac Puree
3 knobs celery root (celeriac)
½ – 1 cup cream
truffle carpaccio
salt, pepper and lemon juice to taste
Peel celery root. Cut into 1/8th. Put in a pot of cold salted water. Boil the be-jeebies out of it. When tender, drain. Put in a food processor, and puree with approximately 1/2 cup of cream. Add lemon juice, 1 squeeze at a time, until it is seasoned to your taste. Adjust seasoning with salt and pepper.
Conventional wisdom dictates that risotto should be stirred continuously while the rice is cooking.
But Lydia Shire is not a conventional chef. As a line cook at Biba, she taught me how to cook in her style… risotto, for example, was cooked in a large, 3 gallon rondeau pan. The large surface area allowed for even cooking, and easy pan-shaking. Lydia did not stir her risotto; rather she’d shake the pan occasionally just to make sure it wasn’t sticking on the bottom. After cooking the risotto ¾ of the way, it was spread out on sheet trays to cool quickly (and prevent over cooking). During dinner service, we (the line cooks) would finish the risotto by stirring in butter and cheese. The final stirring was just enough to coax out the creaminess while keeping the grains of rice separate.
I didn’t think much of this technique, one way or the other… until I was cooking with my brother-in-law. As we divvied up the cooking responsibilities for dinner one night, he offered to take on the risotto – an old friend had taught him how to make it, and he felt confident in his technique. I watched him stir and stir the risotto, just as his friend had taught him, slowly adding hot liquid. I didn’t question his technique – though different than mine, I knew this was traditional.
But as we sat down for dinner that evening, the risotto seized up into a glomy mound. All that stirring produced too much “creaminess” to the point of starchiness that glued the rice grains together.
To my taste, I prefer shaken, not stirred, risotto. And now I know why.
Risotto
Leftover duck confit makes a wonderful additional to risotto.
3/4 cup arborio rice 1 1/2 cups chicken stock 1 1/2 cups water
1/4 cup white wine 1/3 cup parmesan 4 tbs. whole butter lemon juice, salt and pepper to taste
1. Bring chicken stock and water to a boil. Keep hot while making the risotto.
2. Heat large sauté pan over medium-high heat. Add butter. When it is melted, add shallots, and sweat for 2 minutes. Add rice, stirring to ensure each grain is coated in butter.
3. Deglaze with wine. When the rice has absorbed the wine, add 1/3 of the liquid. Gently stir, to ensure that nothing is sticking to the bottom of the pan. Add 1/2 of remaining liquid. Cook rice, uncovered and without stirring, until most of the liquid is absorbed. Add remaining liquid and continue cooking in the same method.
4. Test risotto to ensure that it is cooked almost completely. If not add more hot water, and continue cooking. Otherwise, season with salt and pepper. Stir in parmesan and butter. Adjust seasoning with fresh lemon juice, if desired.
Roasting the bird whole is perhaps the easiest way to contend with it. The perennial problem with this method is that the breasts cook quicker than the legs. And legs need to be cooked through, whereas the breasts are best medium or medium rare. If you break down the bird you can give each part its proper attention. Consistent in the cooking methods of each part of the bird is rendering the fat. This extremely fatty bird can render as much as 2 cups of fat.
I butcher the bird into 4 parts – the breasts, the legs, the carcass and the excess fat.
I reserve the carcass for duck stock. But before I even think about the stock, I shove it in the oven at 350 for an hour. The bones roast golden brown, which will add depth of flavor to the eventual stock, and the fat that coats the bones renders away. The stock will be much leaner for this extra step. I then throw the bones into a pot with a carrot, onion and celery stalk; a few sprigs of parsley, a pinch of salt and a twist of pepper. The whole thing is covered in water, and back into the oven for several hours. The stock can be used to make a sauce, soup or even to make risotto.
My favorite way to prepare duck legs is to confit them. If I’m organized, I start the process at least 1 day in advance. Classically, confit means “to cook in its own fat.” Chefs have taken liberties with the word to mean, braised in fat. If you’ve even seen “tomato confit” on a menu you can see what I mean. Obviously, a tomato doesn’t have its own fat, so in order to confit it, it is slowly roasted in olive oil. For duck legs, the long, slow cooking tenderizes the meat, melts away the excess fat, gives the meat a chance to absorb the flavors of the marinade and keeps it moist and succulent. The legs get rubbed with salt, plenty of garlic and warm spices, including cinnamon, cumin and ground ginger. I place them in a pyrex dish, skin side up, and put the excess fat on top. After 24 hours, of marinade, I cook them slowly in a 250F oven… at least 3 hours, but 6 hours is better. The fat melts away and creates a broth in which to braise the legs.
The breasts get broken down further, separating the skin from the meat. The skin goes into the oven at 350. This renders out the fat, leaving crackling, crisp skin. After a little marination in soy sauce and vanilla, I sear the breasts to medium rare, a process that takes only ten minutes.
A single bird is enough to serve four people a gracious meal of “Duck Three Ways”
Duck Confit This recipe is adapted from Madeleine Kamman's recipe 4 Duck legs 1/2 tsp. each cumin, coriander, cinnamon 1/4 tsp. each allspice, dried thyme pinch cloves 1/4 tsp. each cardamom ginger nutmeg lots of garlic, chopped half "a lot" of shallots, chopped salt and pepper duck fat (or fat trimming from whole duck)
1. Combine spices.
2. Season duck generously with salt, pepper and spice mix on the flesh side.
3. Toss with garlic and shallots.
4. Let sit for at least 24 hours.
5. Cook duck legs in 250 oven covered in duck fat for 2-3 hours, or until meat is very tender, and skin pulls away from the tip of the leg bone.
(Chocolate Giveaway Winners: Judit U-M and Grace, Congratulations! You were randomly selected to win the chocolate sampler boxes from Equal Exchange. Please email your mailing address to julia [at] growcookeat [dot] com. And thanks to all for your great comments and supporting fair trade!)
Let’s face it: the best part of duck is the crispy skin. When done right, the skin crackles and the duck breast is still juicy and medium rare. And if you’re really good, you manage to render all the fat from under the skin without overcooking the meat.
I’m not that good. I’ve cooked hundreds of duck breasts, and I honestly don’t believe it’s possible to render all the fat out and still have a medium rare breast. I always start with cold meat and a cold pan. I score the skin as to better release the fat. I cook over low heat. I drain the excess fat as it pools in the bottom of the pan. But as soon as the meat starts to tighten in the pan, I know I'm well on my way to medium.
The solution: cook the breast and the skin separately! It’s easy enough to peel the skin off with a paring knife and small, gentle strokes along the membrane that attaches the skin to the meat. I slice the skin into thin strips; put them in a pan and into the oven at 325F. They take about 20 – 30 minutes to render all their fat… but it’s a good idea to check every 10 minutes and stir them around.
When they are golden brown, drain them on a paper towel and season with salt. There will be a lot of fat leftover in the bottom of the pan. Whatever you do, don’t pour it down the skin. I usually let the pan sit until the fat sets up and then pour it in the trash. This fat has a slightly burnt taste to it, so I don’t want to save it for confit.
You can cook the duck breast according to your favorite recipe. A personal favorite is this one from Thomas Keller. But since we’re in the height of autumn, I, instead, seasoned the breasts with a little allspice, in addition to the de rigueur salt and pepper, sautéed them in a pan for 7 minutes on each side and served them alongside butternut squash gnocchi. The duck cracklings were a wonderful textural contrast to the soft textures of the meat and dumplings. And for as much as I love my vegetables, you just don’t get that kind of crisp.
When I started out cooking this dinner, I had thought I would post about the gnocchi. But I couldn’t stop thinking about the duck cracklings. The Brussels sprouts are ready to be harvested, so I will make the gnocchi again to serve with them (and a little bacon). I will give you that recipe then… Stay tuned…
If you ordered foie gras at Biba restaurant in the mid-1990’s, I apologize. I was just learning how to sear foie gras, and it took me a while to internalize all the nuances of the liver and the cooking pans to really perfect my technique. While I learned, I sent out a lot of portions that were flabby and pale. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate the opportunity to learn at your expense, sometimes cooking as many as 20 portions a night. And the folks that have eaten my foie gras since then thank you too.
Alan Brock is one of them. He ate at Biba at least once a week. I only knew him by name: “Alan Brock’s eating at the bar….” And we’d pull out the special plates, the new ingredients we were experimenting with and cook him the best dish we could imagine at the moment.
At the end of my shift one night, the sous chef came to me with a glass of red wine. This was highly unusual since we only got shift drinks on Saturdays, and then it was only beer. The glass was from Alan Brock and he wanted to thank the cook who prepared his foie gras. Not the chef, not the sous chef, but me, the LINE COOK. YES! I did it, I did it! I finally learned to sear foie gras.
Cooking Foie Gras intimidates both professional and home cooks. They don’t teach you in cooking school, and it’s not readily available at supermarkets. When it is available for purchase, it can cost as much as $60 a pound. Most cooks don’t have the financial wherewithal to experiment with such a persnickety ingredient to learn how to cook it properly.
When I worked at Biba, the butchers would clean the foie gras for me and the other line cooks. They would gently break it open, clean out the blood veins, and piece it back together in perfect 2 ounce portions. Now when I cook foie gras at home, I don’t bother. I either by “A Grade”, which is quite clean, or I buy “B’s”. Then, I slice the liver and use a toothpick to clean out the veins.
Foie Gras shines when it’s seared to a crispy brown, salty crust. But because the liver is 90% fat, it’s imperative that it’s cooked quickly, otherwise it literally melts away and you’re left with sinewy fat. The secret is cold foie, hot pan. After I slice and season the foie gras, I put it back in the refrigerator. I heat the pan over a high flame for a few minutes. When it’s smokin’ hot, I press the foie gras into the dry pan. It immediately sizzles, rendering enough fat to release it from the pan. After 1 ½ – 2 minutes, I flip it over for 5 seconds, just to take the raw edge off the other side. I let the foie gras rest on a slice of toasted brioche. The brioche soaks up all the juices and makes a wonderful accompaniment to the dish.
I love pan sauces with foie gras, which I make while it’s resting. I drain the excess fat from the pan, to which I add minced shallots. They cook quickly from the residual heat of the pan. Then I deglaze with sherry and chicken stock. After it reduces to a thick sauce, I finish it by swirling in a pat or two of butter. Finally, I balance the sauce with a squeeze of fresh lemon and a pinch of salt and pepper.
12 duck breasts 1 tsp. Sichuan pepper 1 tbs. five spice powder salt ¼ cup sake 1 tbs. hoisin pinch of chili flakes 1 tbs. chopped shallots pinch of nutmeg 1 cup chicken broth or stock butter to taste
Score the skin side of the duck breast. Season meat with salt, pepper and five spice. Cook duck, skin side down over low heat for 10 minutes, or until the fat is rendered and the skin is crispy. Cook breast for 1 minute on flesh side for medium. Remove duck from pan and let rest for 5 minutes before slicing.
To the duck pan: drain off excess fat. Return pan to heat. Add the shallots and chili flakes. Cook for 2 minutes until the shallots are soft. Deglaze the pan with sake. Stir in hoisin and nutmeg. Add chicken broth, and let reduce by half. Swirl in butter to taste.
Spring Green Bao
3 cups AP flour 1 Tbs. Yeast ¼ cup sugar 1 cup hot milk 1 tbs. Soft butter ½ tsp. Baking powder
1. In a small bowl, combine milk and yeast. 2. Put all dry ingredients in mixing bowl with paddle and mix at low speed. Add the milk to make a dough. Then, add the butter. Switch to a dough hook, and knead for 5 minutes. Add the baking powder last, and be sure it all gets incorporated. 3. Place into a lightly oiled bowl and cover…letting rise for 45 minutes. 4. Punch down the dough, and divide into 12 pieces. Let rest for another 10 minutes…then roll out, put a spoonful of filling in middle, and pinch dough around it. 5. Place each bao on a small square of parchment paper, and stem for 10-15 minutes. Don’t crowd your steamer as the bao will almost triple in size while cooking.
1. Heat oil in a large skillet or wok. Add ginger and garlic. Cook for 1 minute, until soft. Add greens, and cook until wilted. Season with soy sauce. Let cool before filling.
In order to get the duck legs for my experiments with Alinea’s book, I had to buy a whole duck. For the breasts, I decided to take an east meets west angle. The “east” came from a 5-spice rub on the breast and hoisin and sake in the sauce. The “west” incarnated itself in a timbale of broccoli raab, chanterelles and rice. The sauce nodded to France with a swirl of butter at the end.
4 duck breasts 1 tsp. Sichuan pepper 1 tbs. five spice powder salt ¼ cup sake 1 tbs. hoisin pinch of chili flakes 1 tbs. chopped shallots pinch of nutmeg 1 cup chicken broth or stock butter to taste
Score the skin side of the duck breast. Season meat with salt, pepper and five spice. Cook duck, skin side down over low heat for 10 minutes, or until the fat is rendered and the skin is crispy. Cook breast for 1 minute on flesh side for medium. Remove duck from pan and let rest for 5 minutes before slicing.
To the duck pan: drain off excess fat. Return pan to heat. Add the shallots and chili flakes. Cook for 2 minutes until the shallots are soft. Deglaze the pan with sake. Stir in hoisin and nutmeg. Add chicken broth, and let reduce by half. Swirl in butter to taste.
Carol from French Laundry at Homecooked her way through the French Laundry Cookbook. Having cooked many recipes from that book, and derived so much inspiration, I was wholey impressed with Carol’s effort. When she finished French Laundry, she began to tackle Alinea. Without any thought, I bought Alinea’s cookbook as well. It arrived last week.
Thumbing through it, I realized it was more a coffee table tome than a book to derive inspiration, much less cook from. The organization of the book, the pictures and the wording or recipe names make it a difficult to figure what the recipes are all about. Carol, I bow to you in admiration. Nonetheless, I decided to try something from it.
First challenge: finding a recipe that didn’t require specialty ingredients or equipment. I opted for Venison Encased in Savory Granola. And then I changed everything… I made duck confit instead of the venison. Instead of making the granola, I served the fried components separately. And I pureed macomber turnips instead of celeriac. But I did make the dried-cherry port sauce. Other than that, it was exactly the same.
The puffed wild rice was a fun novelity, and offered a good textural contrast. Flavor-wise, I don't think it contributed to the dish. Perhaps if I had made the granola as Achatz recommended it would have benefited from the potato shreds and onion rings.
Duck Confit Duck legs 1 tsp. each cumin, coriander, cinnamon 3/4 tsp. each allspice, dried thyme ¼ tsp. cloves ½ tsp. each cardamom ginger nutmeg lots of garlic half a lots of shallots salt and pepper duck fat
1. Combine spices. 2. Season duck generously with salt, pepper and spice mix on the flesh side. 3. Press in garlic and shallots. 4. Let sit for 24 hours. 5. Cook duck legs in 250 oven covered in duck fat for 2-3 hours, or until meat is very tender. 6. Store in fat.
Deep Frying Onion Rings 1 onion, thinly sliced on a mandolin 1 tbs. corn starch Wild Rice Potato Shreds, soaked in water to remove starch Oil for deep frying
1. Heat oil to 450. Add wild rice. It should puff instantly. After 30 seconds, remove with a slotted spoon. Drain on a papper towel and season with salt. 2. Turn oil down to 375. Toss onion slices in corn starch. Fry until crispy, about 5 minutes. Drain on a paper towel and season with salt 3. Fry potato shreds until lightly golden. Drain on paper towels and season with salt.
Macomber Turnips 2 turnips ¼ cup cream Salt, pepper and lemon juice, to taste
1. Peel and cubed turnips. Put in a pot of cold water. Season with salt. 2. Bring water to a boil and reduce heat to a simmer. Cook until turnips are tender, about 20 minutes. Drain. 3. Puree turnips with cream. Season with salt pepper and lemon juice.
Port Sauce 1 small shallot diced 1 cup port wine 1 cup chicken or duck stock Butter Salt, pepper and lemon juice to taste.
In a small sauce pan, melt 1 tablespoon of butter. Add shallots, and cook for 1-2 minutes or until soft. Add wine and dried cherries, and let it reduce to about 1/4 cup. Add chicken broth and bring to a boil and reduce by ½. Turn heat the heat off, and whisk in butter, 2 tbs. at a time – for a total of 1/4 -1/2 # depending on your taste. Adjust seasoning with salt, pepper and a small squeeze of lemon juice.
Thanks to David for taking pictures. He blogs about editing food photos here.
has a recipe for wild boar stew that has all sorts of unique flavorings and techniques. The marinade and subsequent braising liquid calls for juniper (the pine berry that is also the prominent flavoring in gin), red wine, carrots celery and onions. Separately, she caramelizes sugar with garlic, and then adds red wine vinegar to create a sweet and sour flavor. When the pork is cooked, the meat is pulled out, and the braising liquid (along with all the mushy vegetables) are pureed to act as a thickener to the stew. She finishes the sauce with chocolate, prunes and almonds.
recipe
