Pro Patria

(Duck Meal # 4 See here for more info.)

There are certain dishes which stir national pride, encourage love of the motherland. Take, for example, Irish stew. Served in pubs throughout the emerald isle, hardly an Irishman would exalt it. Attack it, however, and see how patriotism is indeed rooted in the stomach. Bangers and mash to an Englishman, meat pie to an Australian, the hotdog to an American, flan to a Mexican (or half of Central America for that matter).

Then, there are dishes which threaten to tear a nation apart; the very real and heartfelt arguments about the exact method one should employ whilst preparing a particular dish which erupt from time to time here and there around the globe are but pathetic, childish spats in comparison to the French. That’s right, you heard me, the fighting French.

What they lack on the battlefield they more than make up for in the kitchen (and in the bedroom, just ask your girlfriend). Sure, the French have a questionable military history, one in which surrender is often floated as plan A, but try to convince a farmer from Carcassonne to cook in the manner of his counterpart from Toulouse – only a few miles down the road – and see how soon you become the proud owner of a pitchfork-bellybutton piercing.

I recon they’ve got it right. Something about priorities comes to mind. At any rate, it is because of their conviction that I reproduce the following recipe with some trepidation; below is my version of a classic French dish and I know it’ll only manage to anger a bunch of already cranky, beret-wearing, garlicky, cheese-eaters.

This dish is so revered there is a brotherhood (complete with robes and stupid hats) devoted to it. It is a classic of both haute cuisine and farmhouse cooking. Simple in concept and components, the origin of both the word and dish casserole, here is my, terribly humble, cassoulet.



In many ways this is a dish born of many meals; leftover ham hock, confit duck meat, spare sausages, mutton (maybe in some places, but not here, buddy), bacon, and whatever else might be hanging about are thrown into cassoulet. When I prepared this cassoulet, it was the culmination of my “four meals from one duck” project.

1 confit duck leg (see older post)
1 small ham hock
2 small pork sausages, cut into 4 cm (2in) segments
1 cup dried white beans
2 brown onions, peeled
2 clove garlic, peeled
1 sprig thyme

In a medium pot, cover beans with 8 cups water, roughly chop 1 onion and crush one clove of garlic and add these to the pot. Simmer until beans are soft, yet firm, 2-3 hours. Strain, reserving liquid.

In the meantime, simmer the pork hock in enough water to cover until the meat is soft and comes easily from the bone. 2-3 hours. Cool and pick meat from bone. Discard bones and liquid. At he same time pick the meat from the confit duck leg, discarding the bones and skin.

Fine dice the remaining onion and mince the remaining clove of garlic. In a pan on medium heat, sauté the sausages in a bit of oil until they are lightly browned on each side. Add the onion, garlic, and thyme and cook until the onions are soft but not colored. Deglaze the pan with a bit of water or stock.

Preheat oven to 180ºC (350ºF). Assemble the cassoulet in (traditionally) a clay dish, or a wide-mouthed, ceramic vessel. Start with half the beans, top this with the sausages and onion mix. Add the hock and duck meat, and top this with the rest of the beans. Add enough of the reserved bean water to just cover the cassoulet and bake, uncovered for one hour. Reduce heat to 150ºC (300ºF) and bake for an additional 2 hours, adding reserved bean liquid whenever the cassoulet begins to form a crust. Remove from oven. Cool and refrigerate overnight.

The next day preheat oven to 150ºC (300ºF) and bake for 2 hours, adding bean liquid, or if this runs out, water, whenever the cassoulet looks dry. After two hours stop adding liquid and allow the cassoulet to form a crust over the next hour. Remove from oven after three hours, rest for ten to twenty minuets and serve with bread to mop up all the goods. Oh, and a salad so that your guests might have something to feel good about.