Philosophy of a Cliché

(Duck meal #3 see here for more info)

Philosophy, for a change. Meaning “love of knowledge”, the word “philosophy” was once synonymous with “science.” The gradual separation, over the last 1000 years, has left philosophers to deal with the nature of the human condition, or man’s position, morally, in the universe, or the very question of the practicality of existence – ephemeral subjects ultimately improvable. On the other hand, scientists have been granted dominion over all things quantifiable. The two remain tentatively separated, like backseat siblings on a long journey, bound from time to time to wander into neighboring territory, oft at their own peril.

One notable example of these border marauding schools of philosophical thought is that of epistemology, or, to put the study in the form of a question: How much of the can we know? As the primary aim of science is to describe the workings of the universe, this seems like a reasonable question for the scientist as well as the philosopher. Someone only has to ask the inevitable: “Can we know that there are things that we cannot know, and if we know that unknowables exist, are they truly unknowable?” before most logic minded folk do that funny little eye-roll-flutter-brow-scrunch-head-tilt-shrug-grunt maneuver and wander off. Mostly I’m with them.

Another of these gray-area examples is my personal favorite: entropy. Scientifically the concept relates to thermodynamics. Any energy system is by natural law, inefficient, and looses energy to heat, vibration, and friction, all simple forms of energy not easily recovered. As a result, no system can produce more energy than it consumes, or even equal the energy it consumes. By extension, if all systems “leak,” then the general trend of energy in the universe is from ordered and complex forms to chaotic and simple ones. Philosophically speaking this concept is applied to the universe as a whole, and the general trend should therefore be from complex to chaotic.

I say “should be” because that’s not what appears to be happening. Called by philosophers “the trend towards complexity” and by scientists “emergence,” is the attempt to explain how complex systems arise out of a universe that ought to be, physically speaking, plunging into chaos.

Ok. Stick with me here. An Emergent System in nature is one where the separate parts of a system interact with their immediate surrounds (but not the entire system) as part of a circular chain of events that forms some semblance of order. Think evolution, formation of galaxies, human social structure. In nearly all of these systems, contrary to that pesky entropy thing, the assumed potential order is less than the actual observed order.

Philosophers ask the same question. How, in a universe careening inevitably towards ultimate and unending chaos, is it possible that seemingly simple components combine to form a complexity which is greater than that which appears possible?

I know what you are thinking: “What’s the bloody point?” Well, mister, let me tell you, this whole essay, all the philosophical malarkey, the scientific confusion, is a complex setup, a long-winded, two-pronged (science AND philosophy) defense of an old cliché.

This meal is better than the sum of its parts. (Or, in the above terms, its assumed potential order is less than the actual order.) The combination of salty and rich duck meat, capped with its crisp skin, contrasts and complements the smoky sweet and bitter witlof, which in turn sits on a fluffy potato that is itself soaking up the complexity of roasted duck and port.

Out of the entropic hellhole that is my fridge comes all of these components which work together to emerge as this:



Crispy Skin Confit Duck Leg with Caramel Braised Witlof, Pomme Fondant, and a Duck and Port Jus

When the revolution comes, I will make sure everyone knows how to prepare duck confit. It is a skill we all should have. What a wickedly wonderful dish. The magical transformation, transmutation, of a piece of meat into the suppertime joy, the crunchy, salty, rich, soft, delicate, fatty, unhealthy delight can only have come by way of some kind of dark magic. No holy god would create such a deliciously heart-stopping monster. I’ve done my best, with the addition of some profane accompaniments, to take it one or two steps further.

2 duck legs, trimmed of excess fat, skin on
200g rock salt
2 sprigs thyme
1 cinnamon stick, broken into bits
1 star anise, crushed
1 bay leaf, crumbled
1 clove garlic, cracked
1 orange, zest only
1 tsp black peppercorns
1 L (4 cups) rendered duck fat

Mix the salt, herbs, spices, and zest. In a container that will just hold the legs, sprinkle half the salt mix, add the legs and then top with the rest of the mix, making sure to coat all surfaces of the duck legs. Salt in the refrigerator 24 hours.

Preheat oven to 160ºC (320ºF). Rinse the legs thoroughly and pat dry. Melt the duck fat in a large oven-safe dish (do not overheat, we’re not frying here, just melt it) and add the duck legs. Cover with a tight-fitting lid and cook in the fat at least two hours, as many as four. The fat should just be ticking over, reduce the heat if necessary. After the first hour and a half, test the legs every twenty minuets; when they are done, you will feel the meat release from the bone as you gently pull on it with tongs. Don’t pull too hard, as you want to keep the legs intact.

Remove from oven and allow to cool slightly in the fat. Using a spatula or slotted spoon, remove the legs from the fat carefully, taking care not to let them fall apart at the joints. Place them in a sterilized container and ladle the warm fat over the top of them without collecting any of the cooking juices that will be at the bottom of the fat in the pan. When the duck is covered completely, cool completely and then refrigerate overnight at least, preferably for a couple of weeks as it tastes much better when it has had a chance to age. Strain and reserve any remaining fat for future use.

When you can no longer wait to eat your confit, preheat your oven to 190ºC (375ºF). Gently pry the legs out of the cold fat, wiping off any excess. In a non-stick pan smear a tablespoon of cold duck fat, place the legs skin side down and then put the pan over a medium-low flame. When it starts to sizzle and pop, transfer it to the oven (it may be stuck to the pan at this stage, don’t worry, it’s all good). Roast in oven until it is golden and the skin is dark and crisp (at which point it will most likely have released itself from the pan). Remove from oven, flip, and serve immediately with the delicious bits I describe below.

Caramel Braised Witlof

1 head witlof (also called Belgian or French endive)
4 tablespoons table salt
4 tablespoons butter
1 tablespoon sugar
½ cup chicken stock or water

Quarter the witlof and sprinkle liberally with the table salt. Leave in fridge for one hour. This will draw out some of the bitterness of the witlof. Rinse well and dry. Heat some oil in a pan over high heat. Sprinkle the cut sides of witlof with the sugar and place cut side down in the hot pan. Dust remaining sugar over the top and add 1 tablespoon of butter to the pan. This is where you have to get yourself some cooking balls. The sugar will begin to melt and then turn brown and the butter will brown as you swirl it around the pan. Just when you think you can’t take it anymore, add another tablespoon of butter to slow the cooking of the sugar. Repeat this step another two times and you should be left with witlof that has caramelized, the pan side dark brown, surrounded by a rich, dark, but not burnt, caramel. Quickly pour in the stock or water, bring this to a boil, reduce the liquid by half and transfer to the same hot oven in which you are cooking the duck. Cook until the core of the witlof is soft when pierced with a knife.

Pomme Fondant

2 large baking potatoes
4 tablespoon butter
1 cup chicken stock or water

Peel potatoes. Cut into rectangular solids (that’s the technical term, I looked it up) about 2 cm (1 in) thick x 4 cm (2 in) X 4 cm. Place into a heavy bottomed pot just big enough to hold them and add stock until it comes ¾ up the potatoes. Dot the liquid with the butter and cook over medium heat until all the liquid is evaporated. At this point the butter will foam up. Reduce the heat enough to keep the butter from burning but not so much that it stops foaming. Cook this way until the potatoes are crispy and golden. If you are good, and I mean fucking good, the spuds will pop right off without sticking. Good luck with that.

Duck and Port Jus

2 tbsp duck jus (see bottom of a former post)
2 tbsp port

In a small saucepan over low heat, reduce the port to ⅓ at the slowest of boils. Add the duck jus return to a simmer and skim.