Duck

Here’s a method that takes less than an hour and results in a crisp bird from which nearly all of the fat has been rendered. It’s accomplished by the simple procedure of cutting up the duck, then cooking it, covered, on top of the stove. Served hot or at room temperature, the bird is crisp, tender, and far more flavorful than any chicken.

What turns people off to roasting duck—its thick layer of subcutaneous fat—is actually its best feature, one that makes it a nearly foolproof dish. The fat keeps the meat juicy even when it’s well done—a distinct advantage because the breast is best medium-rare, but the legs must be cooked through, or nearly so, to be palatable. In fact, duck is so difficult to roast badly that all experienced cooks seem to claim their procedure is the best. Having tried many methods, I can say that the results are all about the same. So I usually rely on the one presented here, which I believe is the easiest way to guarantee a succulent but beautifully browned bird. One challenge: a roast duck can easily be finished by two people. If you want to serve four, roast two or plan on a lot of side dishes.

While Peking Duck—which is a big deal—is reserved for special occasions, the simpler Cantonese version of roast duck is made far more routinely. It’s the duck you see hanging in rows in restaurant windows in every Chinatown in the country. Because this is often served at room temperature—or as an ingredient in stir-fries—you can make it ahead of time. If you want to serve it hot, accompany it with rice, noodles, or a panfried noodle cake like the one that forms the base for Shrimp with Crisp-Fried Noodles (page 534), and use hoisin as a dipping sauce.

This is a simple smoking technique that doesn’t take long, though if your aluminum foil seal is not tight, you run the risk of really smoking up your kitchen. So the first time you try it, pick a day that’s warm enough to open the windows and have a fan handy. (I don’t say this to dissuade you, but from very real experience. I do love this recipe, and it works well; but sometimes unfortunate events occur!) The duck is best cut up and served as part of a larger meal of Chinese food or as part of a multinational buffet or used in stir-fries. Chicken is even easier; you can skip the initial steaming if you like.

This Laotian version of arroz con pollo is a rich, flavorful, and gorgeous one-pot dish, unusual and quite easy. See page 500 for information on Thai fish sauce (nam pla).

A basic Thai-style curry, most often made with a convenient canned product from Thailand called “curry paste.” Here I make my own version, for a fresher taste. The technique is simple: First you brown the main ingredient; I use poultry here, but it can be meat, seafood, vegetables, or tofu, and the process would barely change. Then you cook the curry paste, loosening it with some liquid (typically coconut milk), and finish the dish by simmering. Straightforward and authentic. Serve with Basic Short-Grain Rice (page 507) or steamed Sticky Rice (page 508). See page 9 for information on dried shrimp and page 500 for details on Thai fish sauce (nam pla).

Italians use leaner ducks than we do, so this is a compromise recipe: Italian flavors with American duck. The best Marsala is called vergine. It is really delicious and makes a subtle but real difference here. But standard Marsala will work fine. If you have time, make a quick stock using the duck neck and giblets—just simmer them in water to cover while you are roasting the duck. Then you’ll have it for the final sauce. This would be great with polenta, if you feel like making it (page 529), but also with crusty bread or even plain rice.

Duck confit is one of those foods that began as a method of preserving and continues because it tastes so damn good. It’s a simple enough process, and the results are dependable. It’s best when you use duck fat as a cooking medium. While not exactly a pantry staple, duck fat isn’t terribly expensive if you buy it from a specialty retailer that makes most of its money from other parts of the duck (like Hudson Valley Foie Gras: www.hudsonvalleyfoiegras.com). Fortunately, confit is not bad with olive oil either, though when you do the math on the two and figure in how delicious potatoes sautéed in leftover confit fat are, duck fat becomes increasingly appealing. My favorite way to serve duck confit is with a simple and strongly flavored salad of bitter greens—like the Green Salad with Vinaigrette, Roquefort, and Walnuts on page 165 minus the blue cheese and made, if possible, with a fifty-fifty walnut oil/olive oil dressing.

“Crisp-braised” might seem like a contradiction in terms, since braising is geared to develop full tenderness, usually at the cost of crispness. But browned duck skin has such an astonishing capacity for holding its crispness that duck legs can be browned, then carefully braised, with the result being a crackling skin covering sublimely soft meat. This is a grand winter dish, the kind you would eat ecstatically at a neighborhood bistro, were you lucky enough to live near such a place. Serve with bread and a salad.

You can make this Provençal dish with whole duck, but it’s also great with legs. The covered pan-roasting does a good job of keeping the duck’s breast from drying out, while the legs become tender. It makes a lovely presentation, and the sauce is delicious. If you have only black olives, that’s fine, but add a tablespoon or two of capers to the mix. As with many (if not most) French dishes, this is best with bread and a salad.

This is the cassouletlike dish of the mountains between Spain and France, claimed by several cultures. When I was there, I was told that each of twenty different versions was the “only” authentic one; in this way, too, it’s like cassoulet. What they all had in common were the large white beans called Tarbais (after Tarbes, one of the larger towns of the region)—which you probably will not be able to find—and a stultifying heartiness. Great stuff: you must serve it with crusty country bread and a good red wine.

This is a dark pasta sauce served in much of Italy, made with stewed, shredded meat. I like to make it with duck legs, though you could use rabbit, pork—cut from the ribs or shoulder—or even the dark meat of a good chicken (hardest to find). The meat must first be braised in red wine or, even simpler, cooked in its own fat as I do here. That’s the only time-consuming part of the process, and it may be done a day or more in advance. (Refrigerate both meat and juices if you complete this step more than an hour or two before proceeding.) Sharp pecorino Romano is a better choice of cheese than Parmesan here, though chopped parsley also makes a good garnish.

The flavor in this recipe really comes out if you can let the duck marinate in the seasoning for a few hours or overnight.

Duck has in most cases been something you eat in a restaurant. I love duck, and I love serving it at home to family and guests. I hope that this two-step method of cooking cut-up duck pieces in a big skillet or casserole will make you comfortable with cooking duck at home. First you fry the duck by itself for about an hour, slowly; the skillet takes all the fat out of the bird and melts it into a frying medium which leaves the skin golden and crispy and the meat moist, flavorful, and, amazingly, not at all greasy. In the second stage, you build a small sauce and infuse the duck with its savor. I prefer cooking just the duck legs here, as I do for the guazzetto on page 154, as they require minimal trimming and the meat stays moist through the long cooking. If your supermarket doesn’t have duck legs, ask if they can order them; call a few specialty butchers or even a local restaurant provisioner if necessary. Duck legs are worth looking for, because they’re not only convenient and delicious but often less expensive than whole duck. If a whole duck is all you can get, though, it will work fine in this recipe. See below for a simple cutting-up procedure.

I suggest you use duck legs to make this guazzetto, because they are juicier. But if you can’t buy duck legs separately, you can cook the whole duck. Another way to skin this cat is to remove the duck’s breasts, make the guazzetto with the rest of the duck, and sear the breasts to be served as a second course or a treat for another meal.

When duck is braised for sauce in Maremma, pappardelle is the pasta of choice. Therefore, I encourage you to make your own fresh pappardelle, following my recipe here. (Of course, the sauce will be delicious on other fresh pastas, gnocchi, or polenta; and pappardelle is great with other dressings too!) I also recommend using duck legs for this dish rather than a whole duck, as I think they’re tastier and make a better sauce. If you don’t see packaged duck legs, ask your butcher to special-order them for you.

For those of you who crave the ubiquitous duck breast all dressed up for company, I offer you my version, the little ducky paired with sweet-and-sour roasted figs and given a little edge from the arugula. I won’t lie—it’s good. However, in exchange for my providing a traditional duck breast recipe, you must promise me that you will try either Party Tripe on Soft Polenta (page 159) or maybe Geoduck Crudo with Fennel and Radish (page 24). Do what scares you.

Duck breasts are delicious—that crackling skin and fat, the tender, ruby-hued meat. Duck legs do even more for me; the meat is darker, richer, and full of incredible flavor. If you plan on making a duck breast for dinner, buy a whole duck and roast the legs just so you can make this dish. Alternatively, I suppose you could buy a roasted duck from a Chinese barbecue and pick the meat. Bloomsdale is a lovely, crinkly variety of spinach that is full-bodied and flavorful. If you can’t find Bloomsdale, any heirloom or organic spinach will do. Make sure you wash the leaves well, dunking a few times to remove all the sand and grit.

The wonderful contrast between buttery, almost confited duck legs and crispy, skillet-fried breast is worth the little bit of extra effort this dish requires. Add a bottle of Syrah or Pinot Noir and a few easy sides, like a simple green salad and Buttermilk Mashed Creamers (page 238), and you’ve got the makings of an elegant dinner party.