roast duck

The food I love and cook myself is probably defined by a slightly puritanical bent for all things parsimonious. That’s what makes a tubby little duck so perfect for (mothering) Sunday. I didn’t follow a recipe for this – but I don’t think I can lay claim to roasting a duck – I’m pretty sure its been done before:

I let the thing come up to room temperature. Meat, especially a bird seems so miserable when its fridge-cold. GIBLETS! Take them out – more later. Season generously with salt and pepper inside and out. I’m not sure if I learned that from Thomas Keller (French Laundry) but I remember reading he does nothing else to his roast chicken. It does make a big difference. I also put a shallot split in two, half a lemon and a big sprig of thyme in the cavity. I aim to leave plenty of room for these to jumble about, over stuff it and it’ll just take too long to get the centre hot. Next I put him belly (or breast) down in a moderate oven for 45 minutes.


Now for that little parcel of giblets: not to be rejected as a bag of grizzly bits these are worth there weight in gold, or a least more duck for the flavour you’ll get out of them. I add nothing more than another shallot, another bunch of thyme and some pepper:



Add to cold water and put on the smallest hob at the lowest temperature. You don’t even need a simmer, just bring it up to temperature and keep it there for the remainder of the roasting time.



The duck after 45 minutes belly down – he then gets turned onto his back and I pierce the skin all over. I also drain off (and save!!) the fat every time I check him and it just keeps on coming. That’ll save the duck swimming in it.




Next, a little of that duck fat and this glorious thing:



A celeriac, this gets roasted but don’t expect crispy roasties, not as starchy as potato it will soften and be deliciously giving, and has great flavour.



To go with celeriac and offer another counter-point to the rich duck was braised bulb-fennel with borlotti beans. I’ll confess this wasn’t as clean-flavoured as I’d hoped, perhaps a haricot or flagolet would have been better than the robust borlotti. It was braised with that wonderful stock from the giblets.





With the duck cooked, I set him aside and deglazed his tin (with as much fat taken off as possible) with a little flour and made a thin gravy with the remainder of the stock which is now delicious. The over gamey-note of a stock made with liver, heart and gizzard just becomes depth in a gravy made with pan-juices.
Finally – the best bit – a jar of precious duck fat!