Tis the Season

What a whirlwind December, no a whirlwind year. Christmas sort of just crept up on me this season. With no plans to go home, it would have been rather easy to pretend the holiday wasn't happening at all, but then I'm not one to keep quiet about these things. So I decorated a tree (albeit a tiny one I could carry down NW 23rd on my own two feet.) I placed it near my balcony door, right by my bed where I could sleep next to the lights every night, or turn them off in a sleepy daze when I wanted total darkness.

Then I threw a little dinner party.  I kept thinking of the dinner party Holly and I threw in Brussels, and I wanted something of the sort here. I don't know why we do not do this more often. We all love to cook. We all LOVE to eat. I think I am so used to the restaurant world all working different nights, I've just adapted the mentality that if I'm not working, my friends are. Dinner parties are a nine to fiver's luxury. However, it turns out many of my friends are off on Monday nights (my one night off a week.) I stayed up late the Saturday and Sunday nights prior, cooking up a storm, enjoying myself immensely. I made my own ricotta, infusing it with nutmeg and a hint of cinnamon. I took the time to make a good bolognese (one of my favorite things to cook) with ground veal and pork. Then end result was lasagna. It was so wonderful to cook at my pace, for pure joy and to feed people I love. My closest Portland friends were there, along with Holly and Paul who came down from Tacoma. It was a lovely evening. Too many cooks in one kitchen? Hell, no we ate a lot of delicious things panning the spectrum of salty to sweet. We drank plenty. In between games, stories and a white elephant the laughter was extensive.

Sparkling lemondrop punch

I worked til a little after 11 on Christmas Eve. Then I went out and celebrated a co-workers birthday. That was a fantastic way to start the holiday festivities. It was a group of co-workers I don't usually spend a lot of time with, and it was nice to branch out a bit. I had  blast!

Then I went home and broke down my duck, and began curing the legs and thighs to confit. For those of you who are not yet familiar with confit (And I pity you, I really do.) it usually means to cook in fat. It was originally a preservation method, the French word by its name means preservation. (Just as confections are sweets that are meant to last awhile.) Confited meats are first cured with salt, and then slowly cooked in a fat of some kind. Pork fat, duck fat, or even olive oil. I had a server at SP tell us that the idea of being "cooked in fat" is a turn-off to some people. Did we have a better way of explaining it? We may have raised our eyebrows with a "WTF?" stare. They just don't know better. The result isn't greasy.  Instead it is like a slow braise(technically poached), constantly being basted in deliciousness. Back in the day, they would store confit airtight, covered in the fat it was cooked in to keep on hand for awhile. Today, with any restaurant I've worked in, the confit tends to turnover quickly. We do it for the results, not the preservation method. The result is a tender, rich, melt-in-your-mouth protein, usually on the salty side, just waiting to pair with a starch of your choice... if you can wait that long.

Late on Christmas Eve I cured my legs and thighs predominantly with kampot peppercorns that Nitiya brought from Cambodia. They have an intense smell. the darkness and depth of pungency you expect from black peppercorns, but with a hint of hay or country that mirrors white peppercorns. I have a bit left for experimenting. I also started some duck/chicken stock for the next day.

I would be lying if I said I didn't miss having my family around when I woke up Christmas morning. All four of my parents and my siblings were on my mind with the many Christmases we spent together.  However, I was congested and had quite the cough, so maybe in the long run being alone did me some good. After a few interruptions, I slept til 12:30. (This has never happened on a Christmas morning.) I needed the sleep. I indulged(!!!) in cinnamon rolls and coffee, and got ready to head to Faby and Jackson's.

We had a lovely evening. It was just the three of us. Even Buddy, Jackson's sometimes vicious cat, was in high-spirits Our meal was incredible... Probably the best Christmas dinner I've ever had, but then, I love my duck. Their apartment smelled amazing the whole time with the stock reducing to a jus consistency, and the confit slowly going in the oven. Meanwhile we watched Christmas movies. Faby made some roasted veggies, and Jackson took care of the potato puree. When the confit was done I seared the breasts.


 

The duck breast was red and tender. The confit was salty and delicious. It all sat on a bed of roasted carrots, brussel sprouts, cauliflower, criminis and potato puree with the duck/chicken jus. I couldn't help but clean my plate.

Merry Christmas.