Food Lab 28: Pate

OK, it's not like Chef Spouse and The Mad Kitchen Scientist don't make pate regularly. In fact we recently had a discussion with some friends about what is the appropriate quantity of poultry to purchase in one go, to which we all replied: "Two (or three)." The reason? That gives you enough legs for confit, enough breasts for several dinners, bones for stock, and livers for pate.

But there's pate, and then there's PATE. The official Platonic form of pate, at least currently, is a truffle duck liver pate we get from the cranky cheese guy at Eastern Market. That was our model, our ideal, our goal to strive for.

We were joined by two new Food Labbers, the lovely couple who invited us to Thanksgiving in Catawba, Ohio, last fall: Dr. Fruit Bat and the International Dilettante. Who brought some delicious local apples and microgreens (had to have something to cut all that rich liver), and a shit-ton of really excellent wine.

Our base was:

1/2 lb. of livers (some duck, some chicken, some mixed)
1/2 c. diced shallots
1 1/2 tsp. minced garlic
1 bay leaf
1/4 tsp. pink peppercorns
1/8 tsp. white peppercorns
6 juniper berries
2 allspice berries

All sauteed in about 1 Tbsp. butter, then deglazed with either 1/4 c. cognac or 1/4 c. marsala. (That didn't really seem to make a major difference in the taste, though.)

We also labbed velvet-smooth, food processed then pressed through a Chinois, versus a more country-style, that was just food processed.

The smooth versions, one chicken and one duck, both with the marsala, were spiced with thyme, additional pink peppercorn, clove, caramelized onions, and then we tested salt versus anchovy paste. The clove was a little strong, and I think the anchovy paste was better, although I don't know if anyone else agrees. But the smoothness? Awesome. And a lot of work:

The chunky versions, one chicken and one duck, both with cognac, were spiced thusly. Version one had pink peppercorn, ground chipotle, ground brown mustard seeds, a little additional juniper, some Vietnamese cinnamon, and salt. Version two had fresh thyme, salt and pepper, caramelized onions, and truffle oil. Truffle oil is a DEFINITE yes. Wowza. Also, I tried using a food mill to get a smoother texture, which actually worked pretty well and was WAY less work.

We also had some duck/chicken mixed livers, and that's where we went a little crazy with the spicing:

• Version one: parsley, chili powder, salt, caramelized onions, sriracha- YES
• Version two: bacon, white and pink peppercorn, allspice, garlic, cloves, truffle oil, honey - eh
• Version three: egg yolk, Calvados, Chinese five spice powder - O.M.G. YES!

Before you start on me, yes, I know there are no quantities. It's to taste, kids.

And yes, I am aware that we are already up to seven varieties of pate.

The Executive Committee also set us up with mushroom pates. Because her job is to remind us to eat our vegetables, and when I was a vegetarian in grad school years ago, one of my favorite dishes at one of my favorite restaurants in town was, in fact, mushroom pate. So we went two directions: Tres Mushroom and Walnut Pate and Hazelnut and Wild Mushroom Pate (NY Times recipe).

The Tres Mushrooms was an Executive Committee original, which she adapted specially for us:

1 cup toasted walnuts
1/2 cup minced shallots
1/2 cup unsalted butter
1/4 pound Shiitake mushrooms, chopped
1/4 pound Crimini mushrooms, chopped
1/4 pound Portobello mushrooms, chopped
1 Tablespoon chopped garlic
1/4 cup chopped fresh parsley
1 Tablespoon chopped fresh thyme
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon white pepper
2 Tablespoons white wine
1 Tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
1 Tablespoon Truffle oil

In a large sauté pan, melt ½ cup butter over medium heat and add shallots, cooking them until they are translucent. Add chopped mushrooms, garlic, parsley, thyme, salt, and pepper. Stir often. When mushrooms browned, add white wine. Continue to sauté until most of the liquid has evaporated.

Combine toasted walnuts, olive oil, and truffle oil in a blender or food processor until forms a paste. Add cooked mushrooms and blend to desired texture. Add extra salt to taste, mix again.

We left one alone, added chopped pistachios to one and chopped capers to another. CAPERS. YUM.

To quote The Executive Committee on the hazelnut and wild mushroom version:

It was good, but wild mushrooms got lost (had mix of dried morels, chantrelles, lobster, and porcinis reconstituted to comprise 3/4 pound, rest of "wild" filled out by adding extra fresh crimini). Recipe filled 3 ramekins, and we added cream to one, truffle oil to another and Chinese five spice to the third. The additions were tasty. Lessons on this recipe were that 1) reserve morels and chantrelles for fancy sauces where they will not be overwhelmed (duh), 2) fresh portobello in the "wild" mix could offer more meatiness, 3) might substitute olive oil and/or hazelnut oil for melted butter,and 4) make sure salt to taste.

And further:

Both mushroom pates had enough seductive umami flavor that they were easy to devour. Vegetarians will need to throw some elbows to get any.

She's not wrong.

If you're keeping track, that's an additional six varieties of pate.

Which makes thirteen all together. Which is lucky, of course, but also a LOT of pate. Good thing we had some veg, or we might've all keeled over immediately.

What did we drink? Lots of wine - I might've already mentioned that - and Fernet Me Nots, which The Mad Kitchen Scientist found for us, having Fernet and knowing my fondness for bitter drinks:

4 parts delish kitchen gin (that he and The Executive Committee had made special for Lab)
2 parts sweet vermouth
1 part Fernet Branca
Orange twist

It was OK, but with the addition of some Fee Brothers Aztec Chocolate bitters (and, in my case, also some Angostura), it was outstanding.

And I think that the bitterness really played well with the richness of the liver. Then again, I think bitter drinks go with pretty much everything, so I may not be 100% reliable on this. 

Food Lab 8: Duck

There was a man. A man who loved to cook. This man had a dream. His dream involved poultry. And animal fat. For many long years he dreamed. And cooked. And stored animal fat. And sought fellow travelers, people who could understand, nay, share in his dream.

One cold, slightly snowy March Sunday, it all came together.

The man.

The plan.

The team.

The animal fat.

And Food Lab: Duck was born.

Sadly, the IAs were unable to join us. but Mad Kitchen Scientist and The Executive Committee had right-minded friends in for the weekend, so we still had a full compliment of 6.

Our mission? Duck confit.

Confit as a technique arose as a way of preserving duck. According to many recipes, a batch of duck confit well covered with fat and sealed in a glass jar or stoneware crock can keep in the refrigerator for up to 6 months.

Ours didn't make it quite that long.

Of course, we had to start with drinks. Since blood oranges are in season, we went with a variety of blood orange cocktails: a blood orange margarita, a blood orange Negroni and a blood orange French 75. All quite tasty.

We had 3 full ducks, plus an additional 6 legs. We had planned to cook the legs and wings entirely in duck fat, but Chef Spouse just grabbed the bag of fat cubes that was on top. Not duck fat - bacon fat. Which turned out just fine.

So while Chef Spouse mixed the cocktails, we dumped the bacon fat and the big ass bag of duck fat into a large pot and started it warming while the Mad Kitchen Scientist butchered the three whole ducks, reserving the livers and hearts.

Confit is surprisingly simple to execute: you salt down (and season if you like) your duck parts while your vat o' animal fat comes up to temperature (275). Then you rinse and dry your duck parts, submerge them in the fat, and cook for about 1 1/2 - 2 hours. Then you remove the parts from the fat, remove the cooked meat from the bones, and enjoy the tasty deliciousness.

The other cool thing is that at the end of the process, you actually have MORE fat than you started with, because some renders out of the legs while you're poaching them in fat, thus encouraging you to make even MORE confit. Not that this crowd will need much convincing.

Quick note: this is a LOT of animal fat. You will need to be able to wipe up spills. Two words for you: shop towels. Much more effective than paper towels.

While our duck legs were taking their warm fat bath, we had other duck parts to play with.

Like those reserved livers and hearts, aka pate. We started by sauteing the livers and hearts in duck fat with minced shallots and garlic. We also reconstituted some "Chinese black fungus" - yes, that's really what it was called. No, I can't be more specific. In round 1, we stuck with the basic: bread crumbs, salt and some chiffonade fresh sage leaves from plants I'd trimmed back that morning. We blitzed it up in the food processor and popped it into a crock in the fridge.

But you know us: we can never leave well enough alone. So with the second half of sauteed innards, we added tarragon, blood orange zest, and some dates. Verdict? The second batch, a little more complex and sweeter, was better.

Chef Spouse also wanted to perfect his method for searing duck breasts. If not done properly, the fat can get gummy or rubbery. He tried high heat the whole time, starting low and going high, starting high and going low, and the winner: high heat the whole time, but flipping the duck breast onto an extra slab of duck fat so there was always fat between the meat and the pan. Of course, it did manage to smoke up three rooms and set off the smoke detector. But it was totes worth it.

The other thing to remember is that the USDA recommends cooking duck to 160 degrees. Do that, and you'll end up with duck-flavored shoe leather. Take the duck off the heat when it hits 120 degrees, let it rest to about 130-135, and eat it. Live dangerously.

But we still had more parts, although at this point things start getting a little fuzzy for me. Hey, we'd had a fair amount of wine. We went on to tea-smoke some curried duck legs. And roast the 3 carcasses plus 2 more Chef Spouse and I brought along to make duck stock. And we deep fry cracklins on the stove top in more duck fat: black pepper versus white pepper versus five spice powder, which was the best of the three.

As the out of towners observed: we were all on the quacklins diet.

Thank goodness I had my annual cholesterol screening done back in January. By next January, I might be back to a reasonable level.

Recipe: May Duck

This was an on-the-fly invention of Mad Kitchen Scientist, so quantities are all pretty much to taste:

Start with duck breast crusted with:

1/2 Tbsp. palm sugar
1/2 Tbsp. minced garlic
1 Tbsp. minced ginger

Brown in a hot pan

Deglaze with rice wine (Hua Tiao)

Make a pan sauce using sriracha, rice wine vinegar and soy sauce to taste

I literally can't even tell you how good this was.  And we ate it after having consumed about 2 lb. of beef a person, so not only were we not hungry, we were already stuffed.