I know it would be a small market, the after season is always small, but coupled with the stay home weather we arrived to find the normally bustling large hall skint- just a dozen fatted ducks total, 3 or 4 geese. But what ducks!

There was my favorite smiling vendor with four beautifully prepared mullard ducks with the foie gras intact. Most ducks are sold separated from their livers these daysat different prices per kilo. Before anyone could even talk to me, I scored these 4 ducks, a healthy 23.5 kilos of them at 6 euros a kilo, and wrangled them into our plastic shopping bags. Whew. That took all of 3 minutes and then we were off to the local for a hot chocolate and the ride home.

But it was the unexpected arret minute to show Hilary the Duc de Gascogne boutique that provided our inspiration for today’s recipe- a crumble of Foie Gras aux Pain d’Epices. We sampled the little pot of creamy foie and its topping on toast while fortifying ourselves for the duck butchery; 23 kg is over 50 lbs of meat and fat to trim, render, salt, confit, & sterilize. The 3 large livers and one smaller one totaled 2.35 kilograms or a neat 10% of our harvest. At 6 euros a kilo we paid 14 euros for the 4 livers. Why do I live in Gascony, Hank Shaw?

Breaking the work into two days, we butchered and trimmed and salted yesterday. today, we’ll dice and render fat, clean flare fat from intestines, dry, confit and pack into jars for sterilizing. We’ll make rillettes, cure and smoke some magret for ‘duck bacon’ and yes, make a little pain d’épices (my recipe here!)  to serve ‘crumble-style’ with our foie gras.

This is just one week in an artisan life creating good food while teaching how to think like a Gascon cook. Here’s some past Confit Tips…http://kitchen-at-camont.com/2009/01/26/fat-ducks-everything-you-need-to-know-from-confit-to-foie-gras/

This is one of my all time favorite photographs taken over the years in my kitchen at Camont by bon vivant photographe extraordinaire- Tim Clinch.  It a celebration of the marche au gras (the fat markets) in the Southwest of France, an homage to the honest cooking of Gascony, and an encouraging reminder of the season ahead. November is Confit Season.

If you have been following along or creating the wonderful Charcutepalooza challenges posted by Mrs. Wheelbarrow here for the Grand Prix finale, then you know I hold these traditional cooking and preserving methods dear to my heart.  I am listing some of the archives on making duck confit, the traditional Gascon way- here:

• http://kitchen-at-camont.com/2009/01/30/confit-de-canard-duck-confit-part-1-how-to-buy-a-4-headed-duck/
• http://kitchen-at-camont.com/2009/02/04/confit-de-canard-duck-confit-part-2-like-meat-loves-salt/
• http://kitchen-at-camont.com/2009/02/10/confit-de-canard-duck-confit-part-3-7-french-tips/
• http://kitchen-at-camont.com/2009/01/26/fat-ducks-everything-you-need-to-know-from-confit-to-foie-gras

Grrlchef Sarah Wong dreaming up a little duck confit at Chez Bernard Daubin. Montreal-du-Gers.

• Foie Gras & Lotte cassolettes- oven baked Foie gras & monkfish on a bed of julienned aillets & carrots
• Foie Gras en Chemise Verte- spinach wrapped poached foie gras
• Confit de Canard
• Rillettes de Canard
• Paté de Foie Gras
• Terrine de foie gras
• Confit de Oie- goose
• Cassoulet Camontw/ saucisse de Toulouse,
• Grattons or cracklins- Gascon popcorn Piment d’Espelette
• Magrets seché fumé
• Magret Chemineé
• Huitres Roti (for a little duck relief)

I was walking down the street on my way to a Fat Market when I overheard two tourists talking. I knew they we’re tourists because one, pushing a wheelbarrow full of duck carcasses and the other with a gang of delicious children in tow, were speaking a foreign tongue. I heard unfamiliar words like prosciutto- ah, Italians! And then charcuterie- non, les françaises. And then- lalapalooza! Americaines!!! Oh my, Madame la Brouette et la NomnomMaman were not showing off speaking foreign words. They were making food. Meat food to be exact. Charcuterie, precisement! Eh Voila!

And so I followed them down this meat garden path to join a hundred other food bloggers for a charcuterie jamboree called Charcutepalooza. I call it “your year of putting your mind and money where your mouth is- on the Meat”. It was happenstance that I had just finished a two-week Artisan Butchery & Charcuterie program here at Camont with Chef Sarah Wong from Seattle’s Culinary Academy- (pictured below with a bowl o’ magrets). We had wrapped up two weeks of pig butchery and pork charcuterie with a trip to the one of the Gers fabulous Marche au Gras, or Fat Markets. the results of buying 5 fat ducks, foie gras to cracklins was a big bowl of magrets de canard or meaty duck breasts. Most of these whopping big steack de canard became confit, but I reserved two to salt, smoked and cure for…bacon. Duck Bacon.

I know the challenge says duck prosciutto, but the gascon purist that I am (meaning as it pleases me!) prefers to use the French term for a French product- hence Magret Seché- dried duck breast. And like the ventreche we salt and cure for French bacon or lardons, I knew that at least some of this deep red, melting fat meat would be destined for breakfast. And breakfast is nothing if about the Bacon.

My Duck Bacon

1. I lightly salted the meat side of the breasts, just about a tablespoon of coarse sel gris, or grey sea salt.
2. I let the salt rest on the duck overnight- 12 hours. Fat side down to cradle and retain the briny meat juices.
3. Next morning with a paper towel, I wiped off  any excess salt.
4. NOW, I heavily coated the magret with freshly ground black pepper. Fresh as in ground with my old hand cranked coffee mill.
5. Then passing a loop of string through the end of the meat, I hung the breasts, un-wrapped (the pepper will keep anything you are afraid of away!) first in a corner of my 8-foot wide fireplace for a night of smoking and then from a couple of wooden rods suspended in my airy stone pantry room. In the winter there is no risk of flies or other bugs and the fluctuating temps from day to night help cure the meat slowly.
6. A week later, maybe 10 days as we were cooking so much other food, I checked the magrets sechés. They were nicely firm, the fat was supple and the fine coat of pepper had cured into a pungent crust.
7. I sliced one immediately lengthwise, fried a couple deep golden eggs fresh from the hens, and shared a Gascon breakfast with my sister and friends.

The duck bacon’s fat melted as sweetly as pork; the meat sliced neither thick nor thin, became crispy and sweet and salty; the pepper raised the flavor level to serious enough for a Musketeer. The fat was already melting at room temperature as I took these picture. I could see it glisten and liquidfy before my eyes. The eggs were fired sunny side up, then slices of a baguette we’re toasted in the same pan to mop up any lost fat. The half fat, half lean Duck Bacon is now my favorite choice for Gascon Sunday Brunch when friends come to visit… here at Camont.

Whispers of salty advice are twittering down the internet lines. Hints of red gold are wrapped in cheesecloth and hanging from basement stairs, under eaves and nestled among the Chablis. Nervous declarations of love, success, or failure ring through the comment boxes.

Here in Gascony, friends and neighbors make charcuterie like they plan their daily meals- seriously and with great centuries of experience. So I decided to answer @Mrs.Wheelbarrow and @theyummymummy ‘s challenge to play together and help make “A Year of Meat’ with a dozen charcuterie challenges named Charcutepalooza.  Their Ruhls are here.

Since the first challenge was already underway and I had a pair of Magrets (duck breasts from a Mullard foie gras duck) hanging in my stone larder from our last AB&C Meat School program, I thought I’d take up the old world perspective and pass on some tips from the pros, my neighbors who raise foie gras ducks and how they salt and cure their own product.

These are the Gascon ABC’s for making Magret Séché straight from the duck’s beak!

A. MEAT. Duck. Use a duck breast that comes from a mature foie gras duck- that is a large breed duck (Muscovy or Mullard hybrid) of 16 weeks age average that has been raised for it’s fatted liver. The breast meat is dark red with a thick layer of fat. The meat is rich and fully developed as any meat use for curing would be. Think beef not veal. There needs to be structure to the meat cells for it to cure properly.

B. SALT. Appropriately. One tablespoon of good sea salt well-rubbed into the meat side of the duck breast is enough. Placed skin side down, the fat acts a cradle to retain any meat juices that then get reabsorbed. After 12 hours- yup, just over night, wipe off any excess salt. There should be almost nothing left.

C. DRY. Age.  In other words, let time make magic. At Camont, I have a stone larder sandwiched between the kitchen and the barn. It once served as the piggery for the farm and is now the laundry room/pantry. We still call it the Piggery. It’s airy, cool and humid and fluctuates temperature just like the étuve on the Chapolard’s farm- warm days, cool nights. Just like the rest of Camont. It’s perfect to let meat hang free in the air, no cheesecloth needed, and out of the cat’s reach. I have never seen anyone here wrap their saucisse or hams in anything but black pepper. 10 days to 2 weeks is enough.

These are the basics of dried duck breasts… as we do them in Gascony, the kingdom of foie gras ducks. Stayed tuned for my own Duck Breast Bacon sandwich- a DLT, coming soon for the Charcutepalooza challenge. and don’t forget to follow along on Twitter with the #charcutepalooza hashtag.

It is just 26 days to D-day. January 1 2010 is Duck Day and I’m  counting days to my arrival on Podchef Island to help the @podchef himself, farmer, chef and food guru Neal Foley, kill, cook, cure and eat a few dozen meaty Rouen ducks. Someone declared December as ‘all-duck, all the time’ month. So as December’s kitchen becomes more and more infused with the scent of duck, I took a break from savory to sweet with these melt in your mouth shortbread cookies.

In the spirit of Ashley Rodriquez’ great post on bacon fat shortbread cookies here, ‘nothing goes to waste’ in the Kitchen at Camont. So with a bit of tweaking from Ashleys’ recipe and an inspirational nod to my sweet guru David Lebovitz easy jam tart use of cornmeal (after all ducks take to corn like… ) I baked up a first batch of these crumbling rich, nutty-flavored shortbreads. Duckys.

Here’s the recipe for a few dozen Duckys

What:

70 gr duck fat

70 gr butter

50 gr white sugar

50 gr brown sugar

2 large eggs

1 Tablespoon white armagnac- (or rum)

200 gr white flour

80 gr fine cornmeal

1/2 teaspoon salt

1 Tablespoon baking powder

How:

I melted the duck fat and butter together with the sugar until it formed a broken caramel.

Then measured all dry ingredients into a large bowl, poured in fat/sugar mix, broke in the eggs with the armagnac then stirred like mad.

Next, I divdied the dough in half, formed two rolls, wrapped them in parchment and stuck them in the frigo until I was ready to bake.

Cut the rolls into thick slices. Place on cookie sheet. Bake in a hot oven (400′F) for 15 minutes or until slighty toasted. Quack! Quick, make coffee or tea!

Created by Julia Leach, 8-week stagiere at the Kitchen-at-Camont.

Fall ’09.

]]> http://kitchen-at-camont.com/2009/10/26/bon-jour-les-poulets/feed/ 1 http://kitchen-at-camont.com/2009/10/25/sunday-grasse-matinee-hatching-ideas/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=sunday-grasse-matinee-hatching-ideas http://kitchen-at-camont.com/2009/10/25/sunday-grasse-matinee-hatching-ideas/#comments Sun, 25 Oct 2009 14:33:27 +0000 Kate Hill http://kitchen-at-camont.com/?p=970

I love it when I feel I am in the middle of something. It doesn’t happen often being a bit of a “living on the edge” sort of person- in all senses. But when it does, I feel that delicious “a-ha!” moment welling up out of my back brain and jumping out of my mouth onto The Keyboard.

• A-ha! Locavorism is my way of being a lazy bum- what’s growing outside the door? dandelions? rosemary? rosehips?
• A-ha! Organic Gardening is also wonderfully lazy, no schedules to follow for spraying or bottles of poison to sort out by use by date.
• A-ha! Canning & Preserving in small batches is fast and easy. 4 jars of quince here, 5 jars of salsa there; faster than going to the supermarket.
• A-ha! Butchering & Charcuterie making on the farm with artisan French butchers is part of the yearly cycle here.
• a-ha! Farm-to-table does work when you live surrounded by fertile fields in a wealth agriculturally based society. “France” in a word.
• A-ha! Urban farming works as long as you have Wi-Fi and can Google “mysterious chicken diseases”.
• A-ha! The Back-to-the-Land movement I joined in the 70′s on Lopez Island, WA never went away, it just got better music.

So when the I see this big kahuna wave swelling around me,  I’ve been sitting on my long French board for about 20 years, it makes me want to start paddling faster and faster. Catch that wave now! And at last, I can be the #1 Surfer French Farm Queen-Dudette in town.

This week’s wave is all over the web on blogs and news sites. Kim Severson writes an article at the NYT  about  some of the of the problems people are having raising chickens in an urban environment. And today, Alex Williams writes about the new “do-it-yourself butchery” taking place around the country in shops, cooking schools and well as bars. Like preaching to the choir, I want to join in and shout Amen! or Hallelujah! After all, I learn by doing, too. And while I want to encourage and applaud these Good Food neophytes, I want to bang them on the head, too.

Like parents that think Easter chicks are cute- for a week, I imagine those chickens abandoned by someone who found out that a living breathing animal eats, poops and needs attention just like we do.  I think about the wasted meat not cooked from that lovingly raised porker by someone whose stomach was turned by the smell of too much raw meat or the serial killer smell of fresh blood. I know some of that good meat will end up in the garbage uncooked. I know what happens not just because I see it when fresh students and interns show up in France all starry-eyed or because I have years of experience of sheltering the delicate Gourmet-reading gourmand from knowing too ‘much ado about foie gras’, or the ‘truth behind truffles’.   I know what happens because I, too, have been there. And I am willing to admit it.

I’ve learned a lot these two decades of eating France. Yet, I still have a lot to learn.  About Charcuterie- did you know that the age of the pig (minimum 12 months) affects the acid level produced in the meat muscle and thus affecting the quality and curing of the jambons, saucissons and chorizo?  I didn’t either until this summer when Camas D., Jonathon K. and I sat down at teh lunch table with the Brothers Chapolard for a Q&A about their pig farm and artisan charcuterie operation.  About Chickens- after a year with my own layers  (11 hens- 1 rooster) and losing a couple to neighbor dogs (including Bacon the teenage gangsta pack member),  I am soooo glad I have chicken-raising neighbors who coached me through my first crisis (one too many rooster) and told JK and me exactly where to stick the knife. The Coq au Vin was as good as any I have cooked and eaten.

Interested to learn more? Not on the web but live and in person with people who love their food and make it too. It’s easy this winter. Come to France (air fares are looking good, children!) this November (read about it here) or meet me in the North West this New Year 2010 as  I pack my Gascon bags with lots of ideas and tons of experience on making cassoulet, rendering duck fat, confit and natural foie gras with Neal Foley on his Podchef Island and Robert Reynolds at his wonderful Chef’s Studio in Portland.

Now about that wave… let’s keep it swelling. There are a lot of delicious rides ahead.

It’s been dry since April.  I know this fair weather won’t hold much longer. Rain is sure to come. The chicken coop needs some end of season love and weather proofing,  so it’s off to the tool shed, hammer, nails, screws and ingenuity in hand. The best part is getting to spend an hour with the girls, clucking and clicking as they scratch, peck and lay their golden eggs.

With Julia preparing some winter crop beds, we’ll turn the flock into the potager and let them give us a hand. Should be a slugfest frenzy!