Duck Redux

"When I see a duck, I get an insatiable urge to kill and eat"--Russell Chatham

My buddy down the street and I have been cooking together for 35 plus years, in Alaska in the 70's we focused mainly on salmon and halibut, in Sonoma County in the 80's it was seafood again, plus we had a very large garden where he grew some excellent vegs. Here in Montana one of our favorite things to prepare is duck.

Last night we had duck again, first time since Thanksgiving. We've developed a method that has worked well, turning out a bird with a crispy skin and tender, smoky meat.

First, I brine the duck in a mixture of kosher salt, brown sugar and various spices. I usually throw a couple dried Thai chilies in the brine for good measure. It stays in the brine overnight on the back porch, it's usually colder than the fridge.

Then I deliver it to him, he places it in his smoker on low (150f) heat with either alder, apple or hickory wood, replenishing the wood every few hours, letting it smoke overnight.

In the afternoon I make wild rice, soaking first in water brought to boiling then letting is sit for a half hour, draining and replacing the water with a stock from a previous duck dinner that's been in the freezer. It sits in the near-boiling stock for another half hour, then drained.

We cut the duck in half length-wise, slap the halves onto plates, add the rice and whatever veg he's cooked (yesterday it was asparagus, sauteed with garlic and olive oil), and fall to.

An hour later, the wine glasses smeared with grease, we burp, grunt and moan. Our shirts can best be described as soiled. We plop on the sofa in the living room and stare into middle distance. He turns to me with a bleary look. "Whatever happened to that one woman, that nurse....?" he mutters.