FOR A FRUITY BRAISE, DUCK!
Duck is simply divine, no matter what style you cook it in, writes David Tanis
IFEEL lucky to live near Manhattan’s Chinatown. It’s a short walk that always improves my spirits. No matter what I’m shopping for, I always end up stopping at the roast duck place.
The guy unhooks a mahogany, lacquered beauty from a rack by the front window and picks up a giant cleaver. With impressive expertise, he proceeds to chop the duck, bones and all, into perfect squares. Succulent, crisp-skinned and faintly perfumed with five-spice powder, this bird is to be devoured, still warm, as soon as I get home. Eating something that good has a humbling effect.
There are other stellar ways to cook a duck, though. In France, especially in the southwest, duck is dinner more often than not, served any number of ways. A large Muscovy duck breast may be grilled like a steak and sliced, seasoned duck legs may be slowly cooked in duck fat to make confit for an eventual cassoulet or duck legs may be braised with red wine and prunes.
I’d be happy with any of those, but just now I crave a true French-style braise, with meat that is gently simmered to utter tenderness, brimming with flavour. Varying the duck-with-prunes motif a bit, my thought instead was to use locally grown plums, which are still around, if nearly out of season. They’re the wonderful little purple ones called Italian plums or Stanleys. I bought a huge basketful the other day, some for making plum jam, some for eating out of hand, and a couple of pounds to pair with duck legs and red wine.
I employed the same technique with the fresh plums as is used in the traditional prune version, letting half the fruit dissolve, simmering in the braise. The plums and red wine add body, sweetness and a touch of acidity to the rich sauce. The result is deep, dark and reminiscent of coq au vin. Just before serving, the rest of the fruit is sauteed in butter to garnish the dish.
A braise has many virtues, one of which is that cooking it a day or two in advance only enhances the flavour. It doesn’t mind spending a night in the fridge, so it can be made according to the cook’s schedule. And the seasoning can bend to a cook’s whim, too. I couldn’t resist giving this mostly French stew a bit of Chinese aroma, supplied by star anise and cinnamon stick, clove and allspice.