Duck
The French notion of the tame duck is perfectly given by Grimod de la Reynière. "He appears rarely in a roast at refined tables. His modesty adapts itself better to a couch of turnips after he has been cooked in a succulent braze." The general order is, that the wild duck is to be roasted; the tame duck or duckling either stewed or brazed. If ever the latter is allowed the honours of the spit, he must be barded. In England the duck brazed in turnips is rarely seen, and the roast duck or duckling is in great favour.
Roast Duck or Duckling. A duck should always be stuffed; a duckling may, or may not. The stuffing is the same as for geese, and will be found among the forcemeats. Also duck or duckling should be well done. Perhaps one of the reasons for the dissatisfaction which the roast duck gives in France is that it is roasted, if roasted at all, like the wild duck-very much underdone. Gouffé allows only sixteen minutes for roasting a duck. A duckling will take at least half an hour of a brisk fire; a duck perhaps an hour. When the time comes for serving these birds, let them have a good brown gravy not upon them but around them, and in a boat apart; or else one made from their necks, gizzards and livers stewed down with some browned onions, sweet-herbs and spice. The most common vegetable garnish is green peas or sometimes cresses; but try also cooked endive or celery, turnips browned in butter, and almost any kind of salad. As for potatoes with duck-never. Brazed Duck. The name is given not merely to duck brazed in the ordinary way, but to any arrangement by which it may be both stewed and roasted, which is the object of brazing. Let the duck be half roasted and then stewed; or let it be baked slowly in a stewpan and two or three ounces of butter till it is well browned, and then let it be stewed. This last is the simplest of the methods. Between the baking and the stewing, dredge in two tablespoonfuls of flour, and stir it until well mixed Dutch with the butter. Then pour in with salt, pepper, and a faggot of pot-herbs, stock enough to cover the duck; let it boil up, let it be skimmed, and let it simmer slowly for three-quarters of an hour. Twenty or twenty-five minutes before the duck is ready, turnips are to be put in with it, which have been cut to shapes and browned in butter. At last strain the sauce, remove the grease, see that the seasoning is right, and if the sauce should be too thin, boil it down. Send the duck to table with the turnips. This combination of duck and turnip is supposed in France to belong as surely to the eternal fitness of things as in England it is held that the pre-established harmonies of the universe reach their acme in roast duck and green peas. There is an immense deal of nonsense talked, chiefly in France, about the superlative qualities of the Rouen duck-as if Rouen meant the place. It is a corruption of roan; and the Roan duck is simply the tame duck which has preserved the ruddy plumage of the wild one. The French in a fine burst of patriotism vow that all the ducks of empurpled hue come from Rouen.
Two methods sit inside this entry: a plain roast and a braise (spelled "braze" throughout), with turnips as the fixed accompaniment to the latter. The instructions assume a cook who already knows how to handle a bird, so the useful work is in the units, the timings and the fat.
- The hinge: render before you brownDuck carries a heavy layer of subcutaneous fat. For the roast, prick the skin all over and start hot; for the braise, brown the bird properly in the butter and then pour off the accumulated fat before the flour goes in, or the finished sauce will be an inch of grease you spend ten minutes skimming.
- "Brisk fire" and oven numbersThe book gives no temperatures; a brisk fire is conventionally equated with something in the region of 425-450F. A duck roasted whole at that heat throughout will scorch before the legs are done; start at 425F for 20 minutes, then drop to 350F. Baking the bird "slowly in a stewpan" with butter before the braise implies gentle heat rather than fierce.
- Timings are short by modern reckoningAn hour for a whole duck assumes a smaller, harder-working bird than the Pekin ducks sold today. A 5 lb duck wants roughly 1.5 to 2 hours; go by a thermometer in the thigh, 170-175F, which is where duck leg meat actually turns tender.
- Duck versus ducklingThe distinction the text rests on has largely collapsed. Nearly every duck at a supermarket is slaughtered at seven to nine weeks and weighs 4.5-6 lb, which is the book's "duckling." A true mature duck now means a farm bird or a Muscovy, and those genuinely do need the longer braise.
- BardingWrapping the bird in sheets of pork fat before it goes on the spit. Wholly unnecessary for a fatty modern duck, and it will prevent the skin from crisping.
- Faggot of pot-herbsA bouquet garni: parsley stalks, thyme and a bay leaf tied with string, plus a leek green if you have one. Remove before straining.
- StuffingThe goose forcemeat referred to is most likely the English sage-and-onion type, though the text only cross-refers to the forcemeats. Stuffing inside the cavity must itself reach 165F, which on a duck means overcooking the breast to get there; cook it in a separate dish alongside and put an onion and a few herbs in the cavity instead.
- The turnipsCut to even shapes, browned in butter, added 20-25 minutes before the end so they absorb the sauce without collapsing. Young white turnips work; older ones want blanching first to draw out the bitterness.
- YieldA whole duck of this size feeds three, four at a push. Duck yields far less meat per pound than chicken.
- On the potato prohibition"As for potatoes with duck-never" is a nineteenth-century table convention, not a culinary law. Potatoes roasted in the rendered fat are one of the better things to do with the bird.
Kettner's Book of the Table (1877) took its name from Auguste Kettner, the Soho restaurateur, though the text is generally attributed to the journalist E. S. Dallas, and its habit of quoting Grimod de la Reyni re and Gouff against each other is characteristic: an English writer using French authority to settle English arguments about doneness. The duck-and-turnip pairing he describes is the classic canard aux navets, where the root's slight bitterness and its capacity to soak up fat do real work against a rich bird; the English duck-and-green-peas pairing he sets beside it is seasonal, both arriving together in early summer. The closing claim that Rouen is "a corruption of roan" is folk etymology and should be treated as such. Rouen is the Norman city, and the Rouen duck is a recognised breed associated with it, traditionally killed by smothering so the blood stays in the flesh, which gives the meat its dark, almost gamey colour.