Which is not to say that my first attempt turned out perfectly. The duck came out a hair too salty; I think I left it to hang too long; and it’s really, really fatty. Nevertheless, I think I’m hooked. Making duck prosciutto (and presumably lots of other preserved meat products) is really as simple as dousing a duck breast in salt overnight, then letting it hang for a week. When you touch it, your hands come away smelling like high-end tapas. While duck breasts are hardly cheap (I paid $12.95/pound for fresh ones at Reading Terminal), duck prosciutto isn’t exactly something you can find in just any neighborhood deli. I like the idea of making it myself, using duck from a butcher I trust. I especially like the idea of controlling what goes in the cure mix. (No nitrates for me, thanks.)

Since everyone participating in charcutepalooza is playing along from Michael Ruhlman’s Charcuterie, I’ll spare you the “recipe” (such as it is). I thought that, instead, you might want an explanation. I certainly did. How does this work, exactly? When people say salt acts as a preservative, exactly how does it do that?

Well. It turns out that salt curing works on a basic chemical principle. Systems seek equilibrium. The first step in most salt cures, including this one, is to submerge your meat in salt. If the font size in the diagram below represents concentration, and the dotted line represents the boundary between the meat and salt (on one level, skin; on another, cell membranes), the system might look something like this:

If the system had its druthers, all the different things in the system would distribute themselves equally, both inside and out of the meat. But, because of the boundary membranes, they can’t. Proteins, fats, and some bacteria are stuck inside, while water, salt, and other ions (potassium, calcium, etc.) have no trouble passing through. After about a day, your system might look something like this:

This is exactly what happens to a duck breast that’s been sitting in salt all night. Here’s mine, after its evening in brine:

Notice how flat it is? If you could touch it, you’d see that it’s already quite hard. It’s absorbed quite a bit of the salt from the outside, and eliminated some of its water. Although it seems counterintuitive, this is actually a kind of dehydration. The resulting combination of high salt levels and low water levels makes it difficult for dangerous bacteria to survive—making it safe for you to hang your meat for a week to develop further flavor.

Now, keep in mind that you can’t hang your duck breast just anywhere because the meat still contains other kinds of bacteria that you don’t want to encourage. Nor do you want random yeast taking hold. You want a spot between 50 and 60°F, and you need to wrap it up in something to keep it clean. I wrapped mine in muslin and hung them from the basement rafters:

And after a week, I had duck prosciutto. It’s like magic, except it’s not. It’s osmosis and dehydration. And even though it’s not perfect, it’s still pretty delicious.

So, how did yours turn out?

Can I just tell you how delicious this yellow mole is, and how grateful we should be that Rick Bayless exists to tell us hopeless gringos how to make such things? You really, really must make this. Besides being absolutely delectable, it’s a great use for frozen green beans! Heavens! This version turned out especially well because I used fresh, extra fatty chicken broth. I’m sure it’s still good and will do less damage to your arteries if you skim your stock. Warning: four guajillo chiles (pictured below) were too much for me. Two were too few. So, um, use three, or to taste?

Chicken with Yellow Mole (paraphrased and ever-so-slightly adapted from Rick Bayless’s Mexican Everyday)

3 dried guajillo chiles, stemmed and torn into several pieces
1 pint roasted tomatoes
1/2 small white onion
2 cloves garlic, peeled
1/2 t. ground cumin
4 c. fresh chicken broth
2 T. canola oil
2 c. cooked chicken (if you’re making broth, bingo! you’ve got chicken!)
1 T masa harina, or coarse cornmeal in a pinch
2 c. green beans (frozen are fine)
2 large or 4 small Yukon Gold potatoes, cut into 1″ pieces
Salt
Cilantro

1) Combine the torn chiles, tomatoes, onion, garlic, cumin, and 1 cup of the stock in a blender. Puree until smooth.

2) Heat up the oil in a large, heavy pot. Add the tomato-chili mixture and cook until it looks like a thick paste. Rick says it takes about 5 minutes; I needed closer to 20. Maybe that’s because I’m using about twice the tomatoes that he recommends. In any case, dragging a spoon through the mixture should leave a track.

3) Whisk the masa harina or cornmeal into the remaining stock, then add that to the chile-tomato mixture. Bring to a boil and simmer until it starts to get thick. Add the cooked chicken (ideally shredded), the green beans, and the potatoes. Cook until the potatoes are tender, then taste and adjust the seasonings.

Serve with warm tortillas. Hint: if it’s too spicy, eat it with yogurt. This gets better and better as it sits in the fridge, though I doubt it will last that long.

I discovered the joys of strata through Deborah Madison’s Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone. They are a wonder of the kitchen: utterly flexible, and fairly forgiving. Better yet, a good strata uses stale bread! So long as you’re using some combination of eggs, milk, bread, and vegetables that go together, you’ll end up with something nice. Do tell us what you come up with, yes?

Strata with Sausage and Broccoli

half a loaf of stale bread (good bread makes a better strata)
4 eggs
2 c. milk (2% is fine; richer milk makes a richer strata)
1 lb. loose breakfast sausage
1 head broccoli, cut into large pieces
About 1/4 lb. cheddar, Swiss, or other mild cheese, shredded
Salt and pepper, to taste

1) Brown the sausage.

2) Blanche the broccoil (cook in boiling water only until it changes colors).

3) Cut the bread into enough thin slices to make three layers in a deep baking vessel (I use a 9x9x3 pan). Put the first layer on the bottom. Cover with 1/2 of the sausage, 1/2 of the broccoli, and 1/3 of the cheese. Add another layer of bread, then the other half of the sausage and broccoli and another third of the cheese. Add the third layer of bread, and top with the remaining cheese.

4) Beat the eggs, milk, salt, and pepper. Pour the mixture over the bread. Use a potato masher to push the bread beneath the level of the custard. Cover and refrigerate for at least an hour, then bake at 350ºF for about an hour, or until it’s golden and puffy.

At this point it’s a little late to be pulling leftover turkey out of the fridge (I made a backup turkey on Sunday, so I’m still in the clear), but this recipe will work perfectly well with frozen cooked turkey. My version jumps off from a Rick Bayless version published in Reader’s Digest (I know! I know! But it’s still Rick Bayless), but adds a jar of homemade tomatillo sauce, since I’ve got a whole bunch of them just sitting in my basement waiting to be eaten. Depending on how many people you’re cooking for, it might make leftovers. I haven’t tried it, but I suspect pipian sauce would make a *spectacular* version of chilaquiles.

Turkey in Pipian Sauce

1 c. unsalted pumpkin seeds
1/2 onion
2 cloves garlic
12 sprigs cilantro
1 half-pint jar homemade salsa verde/tomatillo sauce
1 T olive oil or canola oil
3 c. turkey or chicken broth
4 c. cooked turkey, cut into pieces or shredded

1) Toast the pumpkin seeds in a heavy skillet (see picture). Let them toast for quite awhile, until they’re quite brown and popping.

2) Combine the pumpkin seeds, the onion, the garlic, the cilantro, and the jar of tomatillo sauce in a blender. Puree.

3) Heat the oil in a large skillet or pan (say, the one you just roasted the pumpkin seeds in). Add the sauce and 1 c. of stock. Bring to a boil and cook until it’s reduced by about a third (this will depend on the size your pan). Add the remaining 2 c. of stock and cook another 10 minutes.

4) Here’s the judgment part. Figure out how much turkey you want to add and how much sauce you want for that turkey. For 4 c. turkey, you only need about half of the sauce. Put the other half in a jar and store in the refrigerator for later use. Add the turkey to the remaining sauce and cook gently until heated through. About 15 minutes should do it.

OR

5) Toss your turkey with the sauce into a crockpot and cook on low for 4–6 hours. Theoretically, you could use raw turkey, in which case you’d want it on low for 10–12 hours.

Serve with warm tortillas.

Meatballs with Homemade Canned Tomato Sauce

1 lb ground beef
1 lb ground pork
1 c. bread chunks
3 eggs
1 onion, chopped
1 small head of chard, with the leaves shredded
3/4 c. hard Italian cheese, like Parmesean or pecorino romano
A handful of basil
1 T olive oil
1 pint homemade canned tomato sauce*

1) Combine everything but the olive oil and the sauce and mix it well, by hand. Form the mixture into 1-inch meatballs.

2) Gently brown the meatballs in a non-stick pan and transfer them to a crockpot.

3) Pour the sauce over the meatballs and cook on high for about 5 hours.

Viola! Meatballs! Serve them over pasta, or put them in sandwiches. Even better the next day.

*Eep! Apparently I never actually wrote that post on tomato sauce. So, use your favorite version or—if you’re really desperate—use commerical. I made about a dozen jars from 25 pounds of tomatoes earlier this summer. Sadly, the time for making anything from 25 pounds of tomatoes is over for this year. So sorry.

Now, you may ask, what do I do with these berries? For starters, you can just eat them. They also make really lovely winter fruit compotes when combined with dried apricots. But personally, I love them in meat stews.

Beef Stew with Dried Fruit

2 lbs beef stew meat
1 c red wine
salt and pepper
a few sprigs of fresh thyme
1 medium onion, chopped
1 T olive oil
1 c combined dried fruit (cherries, apples, apricots, and/or prunes)
About 2 c. of assorted stew vegetables, chopped (carrots, turnips, parsnips, etc.)
1 T cornstarch (optional)

1) At least an hour or up to 12 hours before cooking, season the meat with salt and pepper and marinate in the wine. Nestle the thyme sprigs in the meat.

2) Saute the onion in the oil in your pressure cooker (using it as a pot) for a few minutes, until translucent. Add the meat and the juices (including the wine and the thyme). Add another cup of water. Screw on and lock the lid. Cook at 15 pounds of pressure for 8 minutes, then release the pressure quickly. (For refreshers on pressure cooking, see this post.)

3) CAREFULLY open the lid and add the dried fruit and chopped vegetables. Put the lid back on. Bring back up to pressure and cook 2 minutes more, then release the pressure quickly.

4) CAREFULLY open the lid. Now you’re going to use the pressure cooker like a big pot again. Bring the mixture back up to a boil and cook until the liquid is reduced to the consistency that you like. If you prefer, mix up a little bit of cornstarch in a couple of tablespoons of cold water and add that to the pot.

I like to eat this over couscous, but it would work equally well with polenta or rice if you’re gluten free. It’s also a terrific way to eat venison. Just cook it a little longer (more like 15 minutes in the first round) to make sure that it gets tender.

Now that I feel all virtuous in the sourcing, there is a guilty confession. This recipe was adapted from Sharon Lebewohl and Rena Bulkin’s The 2nd Ave Deli Cookbook. This is a decidely Jewish cookbook—and my use of pork makes it decidedly treif. What can I say? I like my pork. Let’s think of it as an “eastern European” recipe and move on. My apologies to my in-laws. Aside from the pork, the only other change is the use of the pressure cooker rather than the nearly two hours their version needs to cook on the stove.

Stuffed Cabbage in the Pressure Cooker

For the stuffing:
1 lb ground meat (preferably beef or lamb, or, if you’re obsessive, pork)
3/4 c. uncooked rice
1 c. chopped onion
2 eggs, beaten
1/2 c. water
2 cloves garlic, pressed
2 t. salt
1/2 t. pepper
some thyme

For the cabbage:
1 large cabbage, cored

For the sauce:

2 c. tomato sauce
1 1/2 c. chopped onions
1/2 lemon, chopped into large pieces
1 c. white or brown sugar
1/2 c. white or cider vinegar
1 c. water

What to do:

1) Core the cabbage by making a series of cuts with a long, sharp knife:

2) Bring a very large pot of water to boil. Plop the cabbage in. Boil it for a few minutes, remove, and carefully peel off as many outer layers as you can and set the leaves aside. Repeat until you have at least 12 whole cabbage leaves. Then set the rest of the cabbage aside.

3) Meanwhile, while you’re bringing the water to a boil, combine all of your stuffing ingredients in a large bowl. Combine the sauce ingredients in a separate bowl.

4) Cut out the hard part of the central spine from a leaf of cabbage and place 1/4 of stuffing in the middle. Roll it up:

5) Place your cabbage rolls in your pressure cooker:

6) Chop up the remaining cabbage, add it to the sauce mixture, and pour over the cabbages.

7) Close and lock the lid. Cook at 15 lbs of pressure for 10 minutes. (For a refresher on pressure cooker basics, see this post.) Let the pressure drop of its own accord.

You’ll be eating it for days. It’s shockingly filling but utterly delicious.

This is less a “recipe” than a conglomeration of internet advice, including surprisingly good cooking instructions from Wikipedia. Is there anything Wikipedia can’t answer?

Crockpot Bigos

1 head cabbage, shredded
1 large onion, chopped
1 carrot (or more, if you have them), chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 pound bacon, cut into small pieces
1 lb pork steaks, cut into chunks
1 lb hot sausage or kielbasa, cut into 1-2 inch pieces
1 bay leaf
Salt and pepper, as you see fit

1) Fry the bacon for a few minutes. Don’t cook it until it’s done; you just want to release enough fat to saute the onions. Then saute the onions and garlic just until the onions are translucent. Transfer to a crockpot.

2) Add the following, in order, to the crockpot: carrot, cabbage, remaining meat and cabbage. Tuck the bay leaf in there somewhere.

3) Cook on high 6-8 hours. You’ll need to stir it a few times to work the cabbage down.

Serve with potatoes (gluten free!) or egg noodles (not gluten free).

Lessons Learned…

It’s not entirely clear that it was appropriate to put this much food in the crockpot. That’s a whole lot of raw meat up there, just sitting there while the slow cooker heats up. This is why I used high: I got scared. But then, because I didn’t trust it, I opened the lid several times to try to stir in the meats, which sort of defeats the purpose of the crockpot. If you’re working with a similarly sized crockpot and cabbage, you might want to saute the cabbage a bit, just so that it fits more easily into the crockpot. In the end, no one got food poisoning and it tasted fantastic, but if I were to make this again I’d probably dump it all in my giant pressure cooker, add a couple of cups of water, and cook it at pressure 12 minutes or so. I bet it’s just as delicious, and certainly not as worrisome.

The other lesson is more reassuring. Note that I did not brown the sausage or the pork shoulder, and it still tasted great. Save yourself the trouble and just toss it in.