Eastside Road, March 7, 2013—I LEARN TODAY that in Australia a duck les is called a "maryland," small "m," I suppose because its outline resembles that of the state. Very strange: but so be it.
It's been quite a while since we've cooked any, here on Eastside Road. I used to cook them fairly often in the old days, when I was chief cook as well as bottle washer, before Lindsey retired and took on culinary responsibilities at home. I always browned the duck legs in a sauté pan, then braised them.
Tonight, though, L. roasted them in the oven, flavoring them with nothing but salt, and roasting them slowly. It's an entirely different thing so cooked, truer to its own self and less beholden to pan juices, and very nicely accompanied by an excellent purée of leeks, celery root, potatoes, with a little butter.
The duck itself came from a farm out west of here, a place we have to visit one of these days — excellent ducks; and we asked them to provide a Christmas goose for us this year. Now that's thinking ahead!
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