Monday, September 05, 2011

recipe: duck confit

I am a devoted reader of The William Brown Project, as I aspire to the lifestyle of the country squire.

"I can see meself now, strollin' across the fields, me dog at me side, bringing a brace of coneys home for the wife to make some rillettes.."

"That's not quite what I was thinking about."

"Fair enough."

As I was saying.  One of the joys of M. Brown's website is the opportunity to discuss recipes with men.  Not "here's a bowl, here's some chips, open, pour, serve" recipes, ladies.  I speak of the actual process of preparing food for actual enjoyment through a process that involves heat, sharp implements and fine ingredients.

"I enjoy chips in a bowl."

"Shh, you."

A recent discussion Chez Brown concerned that most perfect of foods, duck confit.  It is my belief that you, dear ack/nak reader, might be interested in such a recipe.

"Do you serve it in a bowl?"

"Don't make me come over there."

There are many ways to prepare moderately good duck confit, but most wonderful ways involve letting the duck sit overnight in an herb-infused salt rub and then a full work day in the oven, bubbling away gently in its own fat.

Our preferred recipe is a variant of Emeril's with Thomas Keller's salt rub formula (as described in his book Bouchon).  It is possible to pull of a decent confit faster - Our Friend Mr. Brown managed it - but a longer cook time produces a more tender result.

Duck Confit a la Bob

Procure 2 fresh ducks and process into:
4 duck leg portions with thighs attached, (about 2 pounds) excess fat trimmed and reserved
2 duck breasts, split down the keel bone, excess fat trimmed and reserved

1 tablespoon plus 1/8 teaspoon kosher salt
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
10 garlic cloves
4 bay leaves
4 sprigs fresh thyme
1 1/2 teaspoon black peppercorns
1/2 teaspoon table salt
4 cups olive oil

Lay the leg portions on a platter, skin side down. Sprinkle with 1 tablespoon of the kosher salt and the black pepper. Place the garlic cloves, bay leaves, and sprigs of thyme on each of 2 leg portions. Lay the remaining 2 leg portions, flesh to flesh, on top. Put the reserved fat from the ducks in the bottom of a glass or plastic container. Top with the sandwiched leg portions. Sprinkle with the remaining 1/8 teaspoon kosher salt. Cover and refrigerate for 12 hours.

Preheat the oven to 200 degrees F.

Remove the duck from the refrigerator. Remove the garlic, bay leaves, thyme, and duck fat and reserve. Rinse the duck with cool water, rubbing off some of the salt and pepper. Pat dry with paper towels.

Put the reserved garlic, bay leaves, thyme, and duck fat in the bottom of an enameled cast iron pot. Sprinkle evenly with the peppercorns and table salt. Lay the duck on top, skin side down. Add the olive oil. Cover and bake for 8 to 12 hours, or until the meat pulls away from the bone.  You'll know when it's done.  Whatever you do, don't let it go too long, as it will become something you'll rather not eat, but you'll feel you have to, and it will have the deep, lingering taste of Regret.

Remove the duck from the fat. Strain the fat and reserve. To store the duck confit, place the duck leg portions in a container, cover with the reserved cooking fat, and store in the refrigerator. Alternately, pick the meat from the bones and place it in a stoneware container. Cover the meat with a thin layer of some of the strained fat. The duck confit can be stored in the refrigerator for up to 1 month.

Now go make some.

finally: launch day arrives

In January of last year I began work as the product manager for something called the Encyclopedia of Life.  A version of the product was already online at www.eol.org.

Today, the new version went live at that same URL.

And I'm having all of the standard product management emotions.

Emotion #1 - Loss.  The work we were doing was secret, and now it is not.  The team was galvanized by a common objective, and that objective has been reached.  There are a number of other dimensions of this most unwelcome of emotions that I won't bother you with.  But they're all a flavor of "it's over", even though in reality "it's just beginning".  Don't expect it to make sense, it's a feeling.  A Bad Feeling.  The Worst Feeling.  Like someone died.

Emotion #2 - Fear.  What if no one likes it?  What if it breaks?  What if the press doesn't think it's super-fine?  What if we misinterpreted some of those requirements?  What if the beta testers were all "just being nice"?  What if someone else does it better and launches next week?  The never-ending cascade of "what ifs" feels like someone throwing rocks at you from waaay up on a building.  The hits just keep coming.  You want to cover your head with a metal garbage can lid and move quickly through your day, because you don't know when the next rock is going. . to . . land.

Emotion #3 - Defensiveness.  I'm sorry, such-and-such a feature wasn't in the release plan.  I'm sorry, we weren't able to ship with that capability.  I'm sorry, that's on the known issues list.  I'm sorry, we'll be sure to get that into the next release.  I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.  There's never enough time to do it all, and inevitably there are people who are sad.  And I'm sorry about that.

Emotion #4 - Detachment.  OK, what's on the list for the next release?  Yes, I know, the new version still has that clean baby / new car / spring morning smell, but, you see, product managers are Tomorrow People and I've been working on the next release for, gosh, a month now, and let's start talking timetables.  Thank you, we're all very proud.  It's wonderful.  Now, about that Next Version.

We're wired differently.  We don't take victory laps.  We don't linger on current successes any more than we pore over current failures.  We move on.  If we're lucky, and we've got a) the support of people who love us, and b) a team we respect, admire and enjoy, we can c) move on without feeling like the one guy at a party who doesn't seem to get the fact that HE'S AT A PARTY and the point of the party is to BE HAPPY.

So with all that said, I am actually happy.  At least when I'm not parsing emotions one through four.

(PS - Gosh, the new Blogger editor sure is swell.)

(PSS - Travis Jensen (@softwaremaven) believes I am suffering from "Post-shipping stress syndrome" or PSSS.  I prefer to think of it as "Corrigan's Disorder".  But it might explain why people think I am PSSSed lately.)