Towards Duck Confit

Today I broke down a duck. We bought the duck whole (cleaned) and frozen at Al's Meat Market, and thawed it in the refrigerator. Once thawed, we opened it up, and removed the giblets from the inner compartment. The neck, heart, and kidneys (with the last of their fat trimmed off) went into a gallon freezer bag for stock. The liver is in its own bag in the refrigerator, waiting for tomorrow's lunch.

I then took off the thighs, leaving on them a generous amount of skin, and set them aside. Next I skinned the bird. This took the most time, but it's well worth it: save all the skin and fat (and attached connective tissue) that you remove from the meat. Skinning the wings is a pain: it's worth removing them first and saving them for last. Once the duck was skinned, I took off the breasts, trimming them of any obvious fat and connective tissue, and saved them in the refrigerator.

I then set to work on the carcass. The point is to save any usable meat (but clean the pieces of connective tissue) and all the fat. The meat goes into a bag in the fridge or freezer for use in a soup or as chopped up meat in some other dish. The fat goes into the same bowl with all the skins. The bones and unusable meat go into the stock bag. Try to keep your stock lean — you will have to skim off some fat form the top anyway, but might as well avoid putting visible fat into the stock bag.

When the bird was finally completely dissected, it was time to render the fat. Cut up the skin into roughly 1-inch bits. Place all the skin and any other fat trimmings into a pot, along with about 1/2 a cup of water. Cover the pot and set it on the stove on very-low to simmer about an hour. The fat should render out. Remove the skins (toss with salt, or maybe fry again in hot oil first, and call them "duck rind", or just discard), and strain the liquids as best you can. Let the liquid cool in a measuring cup so that the fat and water completely separate; then pour just the fat off the top to save. You should end up with about a cup of fat.

Meanwhile, create an herb-and-salt mixture with about 1/4 cup kosher salt, a bay leaf, four cloves garlic, a shallot, and about 1 tsp each dried thyme, black pepper corns, onion powder, and tarragon; combine everything in a food processor. Rub the salt mixture onto the reserved duck legs, pressing it in. Place the legs snuggly into a nonreactive bowl, cover tightly with foil, and refrigerate one to two days.

Tomorrow I will make the confit. First I will rub the legs of any salt mixture and discard it. Then I will place the legs to fit snuggly at in an oven-proof container. I will reheat the fat so that I can pour it, and completely submerge the legs in fat. I will also add some more garlic and bay leaf to perfume the fats. Then I will bake this at low temperature. The goal is to cook the legs an hour or two at between 190 and 210 degrees Fahrenheit. Then I will store the legs in the refrigerator covered in their fat (they can also be canned and kept up to a year, or so I've read).

To serve, crispen the skin in a hot cast-iron skillet for a few minutes, and have on top of a salad.

Grilled lamb burgers sweet potato chips and all the fixings

Having moved from vegetarian to marketarian, we have discovered a new favorite dish: lamb burgers. Mince an onion and saute it in a little fat, and then mix it with ground meat, maybe some minced herbs, and an egg yolk. Actually, don't use an egg yolk: for an extra treat, swap the egg for a dollop of homemade mayonnaise. Then form in to patties, dredge with flour if you like, and fry in the same pan you cooked the onions in, or grill.

Don't have homemade mayonnaise? You should. Our very easy recipe is from the great Julia Child: in the food processor, mix one egg plus two yolks, a heaping teaspoon of prepared mustard, a little salt, and a tablespoon of acid, for about thirty seconds. Then, with the machine running, slowly drizzle in between one and two cups oil (use a good oil, but it's fine to mix: I usually combine olive and peanut oils).

Our always side with burgers are sweet potatoes, in some sort of fry/chip form. Slice some sweet potatoes, one large or two small per person, and toss with olive oil, salt, paprika, and cumin. Then bake or grill them. Grilled sweet potatoes are lovely, and give you a chance to warm up the grill before cooking the meat.

For fixings, open some jars of homemade pickles and ketchup. For a quick dill pickle, clean some jars, and add a clove or two of garlic, cleaned sliced cucumber (be sure to remove the area right next to the flower, as it contains enzymes that make the pickle lose its crispness), and a tablespoon or so of dill seed, mustard seed, black pepper, and maybe a bay leaf or some fennel seed. Combine equal parts water and distilled vinegar, and maybe a third as much non-iodized salt (the iodine can throw off the pickling), over the stove until bubbling and the salt has dissolved. Pour the hot brine over the cucumbers, and either seal the jars in the canner or keep in the refrigerator. If you prefer sweet pickles, add plenty of sugar to the brine, and instead of garlic and dill use sliced onion and some whole cloves (keep the mustard). Ketchup is a bit more involved: cook tomatoes, onions, and a bell pepper with a bag of whole spices (allspice, celery seed, etc.); drain; puree; add vinegar, sugar, salt, paprika; cook until the correct consistency.

Slice up some cheese, a garden tomato, and some red onion. We usually make our own burger buns (your favorite whole wheat dough works well), but this time we had an "herb slab" from Acme Bread. Serve burgers with a hearty red wine on the sweeter side.

First batch of tomatoes for the year

Riverdog Farm, from whom we get our weekly vegetable box, offers bulk veggies too. In particular, they have an amazing deal on Early Girl and Roma tomatoes: 20 lb for $25. (These tomatoes go for $3/lb at the market.)

In order to be well-stocked until April or May, we expect to can about seventy pounds of tomatoes, all together, and while they're fresh eat another ten pounds at least. So for four weeks this month, we'll be canning tomatoes, seventeen or eighteen pounds at a time. This week, we filled eleven quart jars.

Get the canner heating up on two burners. On a burner in the back, keep the tea kettle ready in case you ever need more boiling water. On your last burner, bring a medium pot of water to a boil. Also prepare an ice bath in a large pot.

While waiting for things to come to a boil, make sure your jars are clean, and add 1 teaspoon salt and 2 Tablespoons lemon juice to each quart jar. If you like, add also some strongly flavored herbs to the bottom: whole peeled garlic cloves, bay leaf, etc.

Working half a dozen at a time, drop whole clean tomatoes into the pot of boiling water. Wait ninety seconds and remove them with a slotted spoon, plunging the tomatoes immediately into the ice water. After about thirty to sixty seconds, you should be able to handle the tomatoes without difficulty, and the skins should slough right off. It's important to peel tomatoes before canning, because the skins turn very tough when cooked. Remove the tough part right around the stems, halve the larger tomatoes, and pack the jars, trying to squeeze as much tomato into the jars as possible.

Bring that tea kettle back the a boil, and pour boiling water into the packed jars to fill them up, leaving half an inch of headspace at the top. Tap the jars on the counter a little to dislodge any air bubbles. Add clean, unused lids, and screw the rings on only very loosely: they're there just to keep the lids in place while canning, but you want air to be able to escape.

Boil the jars fully submerged in the water for forty five minutes. This will cook and sanitize the tomatoes (boiling is at 212°, sanitizing is about 180° for five minutes, so you're just trying to heat the jars through, really). It also makes the air in the jars expand and escape. The rings have a wax coating on them, so once the air leaves, they attach down. Then, after you remove the jars, air can't get back in, and there's enough pressure to keep the jars closed, even without the rings. After canning, let the jars cool twenty four hours, and then test all the seals. Those that don't seal you should keep in the refrigerator and use within a few weeks. Those that do can sit on the shelf for about a year, and should be refrigerated after opening.

(Botulism bacteria, which creates a lethal toxin, can survive boiling, although dies at boiling after about ten hours. But it cannot grow in high oxygen environments, which is why it doesn't hurt us usually, although its spores are everywhere, and more importantly, it can't grow in acidic environments, which is why you added the lemon juice (tomatoes are almost but not quite acidic enough on their own). Nevertheless, never eat an exploded can. Don't even touch it. Wear gloves to move it into a plastic bag, seal the bag, then put another bag over it, and tie it off, and bleach the kitchen, and don't let animals get access to the spoiled food, even at the dump. Botox should be treated as hazardous waste. But it is very rare that this is ever a problem; just take basic precautions and you're fine.)

Breakfast: sweet omelet with a trio of homemade jams

We have had such a success at preserves this summer. Yes, the strawberries were a failure, but the cherries, olallieberries, and huckleberries were (and continue to be) all fantastic. So most mornings our breakfast consists of poached eggs, toast, and jam. But occasionally we have no bread in the house, and want to try something different.

Over low heat, melt a tab of butter in a wide non-stick pan. Whisk together thoroughly two eggs and just a little flour. When the butter is melted but not yet bubbly, pour the eggs. Let the eggs cook over very low heat, slowly thickening from the bottom. In your mind, divide the circle of eggs horizontally into four strips of even thickness. When there is a full layer of cooked egg on the bottom, place small mounds of homemade preserve (one to two teaspoons each, depending on how much, and how many, jam(s) you have) in the second strip from the end. When the eggs are done (I like them still just slightly runny on top) run a soft, plastic spatula along the edge of the pan to release the now-mostly-cooked eggs, and fold the eggs over the jam: begin with the first strip (the one between the jam and the edge) and then fold the remaining half-circle over everything. Place a plate over the pan and flip the omelet onto it, and finally fold the remaining strip over the omelet.

If you are feeling particularly fancy, transfer to a cast-iron pan, or do everything in well-seasoned cast-iron, and, after cooking and wrapping the omelet, sprinkle it with some sugar and stick it under a very hot broiler. (We weren't feeling that fancy.)

Serve with cappuccino.

Huckleberry Weekend

Friday

JB is a good friend of mine from college. She's in the area, and she joined us for a wonderful afternoon stroll through Huckleberry Botanic Regional Preserve, one of the East Bay Regional Parks (we're working our way south). The park is not large, but includes a beautiful two-mile nature trail, with wonderful plants. In particular, we were amazed to see the eponymous bushes filled with berries. B and I decided to make sure to go picking the following day. Here's the slide show of the park from our two days of hiking:



Saturday

We brought a picnic with us for our second trip to Huckleberry Preserve, eating at the bench by #6. The dinner consisted of kumamoto oysters from Hog Island, Fromager d'Affinois with homemade baguette, and salad.








Sunday

We filled two yogurt containers with berries — close to eight cups. We processed all the berries into preserve: huckleberry preserve from the Huckleberry Preserve. This morning (Monday) we had some of the jam at breakfast. It is, perhaps, the best jam we've made.

Breakfast: scrambled eggs with scallions, melon, and whole wheat english muffins with homemade jams

Beach, berries, and jam

On July 14 we drove to Swanton Berry Farm to pick strawberries and olallieberries for jamming. We stopped along the way for a picnic lunch at the beach in Pacifica. We made jam over the next few days. The strawberry preserves failed horribly: the berries did not break up in cooking, nor did the pectin set. On the other hand, the olallieberries made a fantastic preserves, and we've been enjoying them all summer. Both recipes are from the usually-excellent Blue Ribbon Preserves by Linda J Amendt.

Cherries!

S, B, and I went cherry picking at Enos Family Farm, the one organic u-pick in Brentwood. After about twenty minutes of picking (and fifty minutes or driving) we had picked more than twenty pounds of cherries. They turned into ice cream, preserves, jam, and we canned some halved in syrup. The recipes were all very successful, from Blue Ribbon Preserves, by Linda J Amendt. We mixed some of the extra cherry syrup with club soda, making the best cherry soda ever.

Lemon-orange marmalade

Last week B brought home a huge bag of lemons from a neighborhood tree, and at the market we bought a giant bag of navel oranges. What to do with all the citrus? Make marmalade.

Canning tomatoes

My boyfriend has taught me that canning tomatoes does not need to be a long and stressful activity. His basic recipe is the same as mine: briefly boil whole tomatoes and then plunge in ice water to release the skins, fill quart jars with whole skinned tomatoes, add 1 tsp salt and 2 Tbsp lemon, cover with boiling water leaving 1/2-inch head space, wipe down rims and add lids, process in the water-bath canner for 50 minutes.

But somehow when I've tried that, I enjoy it but get exhausted and worked up, whereas B makes it a relaxing meditative experience. First of all, B argues that one does not need to wash every tomato before boiling — the boiling and plunging does the trick — simply check each tomato carefully for mold and remove the green stem. Second, I've always cut a small cross in the bottom of each tomato, so that the skin can come off, but B points out that the skin releases without this, if you let the tomatoes boil an extra minute, and since they'll be processed for 50 minutes, what's an extra minute going to do?

But most importantly, I've always done a sort-of "small batch" approach to huge batches of tomatoes (we buy 20-lb boxes of tomatoes from our CSA, and process about 15 lbs, saving the other 5 to eat that week). So I'll destem, boil and plunge, and peel enough tomatoes for a can, and then fill that can and stick it in the canner, repeat, trying to do more than one thing at a time. This, of course, generally fails: you lose track, and tasks take different amounts of time. Much better is to destem 10 lbs all at once, boil them in your largest pot (second only to the canner), and then peel all of them.

In any case, it makes a mess, but if you're not exhausted by the canning, then even the clean-up can be relaxing. Processing 15 lbs of tomatoes is the work of a few hours.

Here's the work of a few months:

End of the summer

Berkeley confuses me, because just as I'm hunkering down for a winter of squash, the spring crops start coming in. Certainly I appreciate the young plants available in February, but I'm not really expecting them until April. I have a cupboard of winter squash, stored for when we're trapped by the snow-storm.

Seasonality comes not in whether there's enough food, but in the kinds, and in whether Farmers' Market is packed or simply busy. The farm we get our vegetable box from has started setting out their dried tomatoes and peaches from last summer, which taste fantastic.

As for foods I've preserved, I've started cooking with the peaches from the back of the freezer (I think I'll keep the frozen quince until later in Spring). We still have a few jars of peaches pickled in lemon, sugar, and spices, for when we need dessert on especially cold nights.

But last night we used the last jar of tomatoes from August. Those were seriously good tomatoes — every jar tasted and smelled like summer, even though the weather is rainy February.

Most of our jars of tomatoes came from one twenty-pound box of Early Girls, and they lasted us — essentially a family of two — half the winter. Next summer, I intend to can at least forty, and perhaps sixty pounds of tomatoes, and that should last us all winter. Perhaps ketchup and tomato paste and tomato soup, too.