Maybe when the only duck to be had was wild there was a reason to hold off on cooking it until hunting season. But ever since Pekin ducks were introduced into this country from China in 1873, domesticated birds have always been sold from July through June. I’m prejudiced because I’m not a chicken eater, but to me there’s no better poultry for summer meals. It’s more dramatic than turkey, more stylish than Cornish hens and more versatile than either. You can grill it, you can bake it, you can smoke it -- you could even it raw if you dared tartare. Even better, it goes with most everything in season right now: peaches and corn, basil and tomatoes, new potatoes and summer squash. If one thing has kept this overlooked dark meat from becoming the bird in every pot, it’s the whole thing. Ducks have always been sold giblets and all, and slaving over a hot grill with an entire five-pounder does not exactly inspire smiles on a summer night. Duck’s reputation for being half meat, half fat has also given it a don’t touch, don’t cook aura. Once a duck has been cut down to size, though, it’s a different dinner. More and more, just the breasts or the legs are available in markets. Not only does that mean much of the fat is out of the picture. But it also means duck has become tantalizingly easy to cook, and fast -- the breasts take less than 10 minutes. Duck is much more interesting to play with than chicken; you can do things to it you wouldn’t try with a boneless, skinless breast. It also has a wow factor: You expect to find it in restaurants, but duck is just not considered home cooking. And any dinner party guest presented with a crunchy roasted leg or juicy grilled breast is not going to go home bored to Perdue.
More and more, duck is sold in forms even those
longtime masters the Chinese and the French never dreamed of. In
some markets, and always online (at sites like dartagnan.com), you
can buy duck confit, smoked duck, duck sausage, duck prosciutto
and even duck bacon. Confit is actually what has started to move
duck out of fall and winter exile and onto menus year round. Just
about any restaurant worth its Breton sea salt serves the whole
leg now on a bed of greens, or with roasted potatoes. Chefs buy
the confit or make it from scratch, and what originated as a way
of preserving meat through the winter makes a hot-weather lunch
possible. Some duck dealers also sell Muscovy breasts
and legs, but to me the best variety is good old Pekin, also known
as Long Island duck (even though most of the birds are now raised
far from New York State, in Indiana). The meat is less stringy and
gamy; it’s succulent and just chewy enough. And even though
it’s milder than Muscovy or magret, no one would ever say
it tastes like chicken. And those parts are not just parts. The breasts
and the legs have a dusky flavor even though they are actually lean
-- the flesh is not marbled; all the fat is in or under the skin.
Even that melts away before you slice into a piece. Cut the skin
off and the breast has less calories and inherent fat than chicken,
its promoters promise. As fast as the breasts cook, they are actually
trickier to handle than the legs. Overcooking will give you a nice
sandal, while undercooking will leave you with tough-to-cut fatty
skin. Sauteing or broiling renders the fat and crisps the skin perfectly.
But if you want to grill, I’ve learned it’s best to
score the skin in a fine crosshatch pattern, then marinate it in
soy sauce for flavor and appetizing color before tossing the breasts
onto the fire. In about eight minutes, the meat will still
be bright red-rare. Letting it rest on a rimmed cutting board for
about five minutes before you slice it leaves it just right. With the legs, the secret is low and slow. You
want the meat to soften as the fat cooks away, leaving the skin
crisp. My standard tenderizing procedure for summer is borrowed
from Madeleine Kamman, who in “In Madeleine’s Kitchen”
suggests roasting the legs under a coating of Dijon mustard and
bread crumbs. The crust keeps in the juices while the meat turns
succulent. I added a sprinkling of herbes de Provence because
they’re so complementary to the meat, and substituted Japanese
panko for my usual Progresso crumbs, and came up with something
that never fails to dazzle dinner guests. The meat gets almost confit-tender
while the skin is as crusty as fried chicken (or, as my consort
says, as Shake ‘N Bake). The legs can just be seasoned and stuck in an
oven at 325 degrees for an hour and a half, with no fussiness. But
a trick I borrowed from a cookbook from Bay Wolf in Oakland makes
a huge difference: After the legs have cooked dry for an hour, I
pour something liquid around them and let them cook another half
hour. The meat gets super-tender while the skin crisps from the
combination roasting and braising. I’ve tried everything from the pinot noir
in the cookbook to vermouth to a tomatillo salsa with pumpkin seeds
and gotten great results to serve plain. But when I want to make
meat for tacos, I use beer spiked with chipotle chilies; the cooking
liquid can then be used to moisten the meat after it’s shredded
and before it’s folded into fresh corn tortillas with salsa
and queso fresco, plus radishes and scallions for flavor and crunch.
Duck legs roasted and braised with wine are
almost as good as confit, and they can be served the same way: on
mesclun or in a creamy potato salad sharpened with capers, cornichons
and a bed of frisee. To me, duck responds best to savory flavors;
I’ve never understood why it has to be turned to meat candy
with orange sauce or raspberry jam. But summer fruit with a savory
side is different. Peach chutney spiced with lots of fresh ginger
makes a pungent partner for grilled duck. If duck in summer still seems odd, just consider
that but cooks in some of the hottest places in the world have always
relied on it in the hottest months. And they make it as hot as they
can stand. In New Orleans, duck is a staple in spicy gumbo and jambalaya
and etouffee, for instance, while in Thailand it’s eaten in
incendiary curries with green or red sauces. Hot food does cool
you off. And duck stands up to the heat better than strawberries
do to the cold.
DUCK LEGS ROASTED WITH MUSTARD DUCK AND POTATO SALAD ON FRISEE DUCK TACOS |
