Duboudreau, Too

Earlier, I wrote that The Duboudreau Cocktail (PDT, page 110), that which is eight parts rye, three parts Dubonnet Rouge, one part Fernet-Branca and one part Elderflower liqueur. We didn’t have Fernet-Branca before, mostly because it’s expensive, but when I went to the store today it was so high up on the shelf and the font on the price tag so small that I went for it. I think it sold for $30 something. I remember reading that people absolutely hate it on its own. It smells pretty intense; I never drink these on their own because I never do. There’s a quote in this piece on five Fernet-Branca cocktails that calls it “mouthwash with delusions of grandeur.”

Anyway, last time we substituted Cynar for it, which was good. This was also very good, although it tastes a little fucked up at first — at least to the point where Jen was like, “What is this, it’s weird.”

That’s Amaro

I’d been seeing recipes for cocktails using Amaro CioCiaro and finally got a bottle. The first recipe I rooted around and found was this Triborough cocktail in the PDT book.

For some reason there are all these borough-based cocktails. Manhattan — obviously. But there’s these Brooklyn and Bronx cocktails, too. In the David A. Embury book he quips that “Every borough of Greater New York has to have its special cocktail. . . .” That line is preceded by something called a “Westchester Special.” Maybe at one point people tasted the treacly Sweet Tart taste of maraschino and automatically thought “Brooklyn,” but it’s hard to discern what that might be. Whatever. And I actually like maraschino.

So anyway, the Triborough (not “Triboro”) is a recent creation from the PDT people*: Rye, kirschwasser, Punt e Mes**, Amaro CioChiara and Angostura bitters. Four parts, then one part for everything else: 3.5 ounces. Plus one dash. And . . . it’s good!

This, by the way, seems like a nice primer on the matter of Italian bitters.

*It’s Nate Dumas, who now is part of New York Distilling Company, an all-star dream spirits team who, as far as I know, have been doggedly trying to open the first distillery in the New York area for like a gazillion years.

**And, we don’t have Punt e Mes, but apparently you can recreate this by combining two parts sweet vermouth with one pat Campari).

Grilling Season

Starting to grill now that the weather is nice: this recipe for grilled broccoli was good; we used the grill basket thingy.

A Root Cocktail

These people in Philadelphia make liquors from early American recipes. We have a bottle of their Root, which they say is basically the proto Root Beer, before it was denuded of its alcohol.

I was looking for cocktails made from Root, which wasn’t easy. I don’t know if it’s the SEO of “root” or what. Maybe I didn’t spend enough time looking. The ones on their website weren’t interesting but this guy created one that kind of worked: rye, dry vermouth, Root, a little simple syrup (Demerara syrup), bitters (we used Angostura instead) and a lemon twist (which we didn’t use mostly because I’m lazy).

Duck Week

We had breast on Tuesday and dug legs on Saturday, mostly because — or, entirely because — of a, er, clerical error at a very busy Whole Foods just after work. Having already made the blackberry sauce (here), we set out to find duck breasts locally; not easy. I’m pretty sure we ran into Greek Easter, which is either a month before or a month after or a week before or a week after regular Easter, or at least Greek Easter (observed). We finally found a place that sold them. When I went in he thought I was asking for “duck bread.” I thought he was asking me if I wanted “dog breast.” They proudly advertised that they sold “all-natural” meat. I never really considered how dystopian that sounds.

We’ve only made duck breast once, and it was one of those French-sounding kinds. (After googling “magret,” now I feel bad about it; not because I don’t like and support foie gras but when you put it like “Magret refers specifically to the breast of a mulard or Barbary duck that has been force fed to produce foie gras” it makes it sound like a fuckin’ Perdue chicken.) So I was confused when I saw this gargantuan lump of fat with a measly hacked up runty bit of red flesh. Maybe they screwed up and sold me a hunk of duck fat?

As it turns out, no, that’s what normal duck breasts look like. The only thing is that it seems most of the recipes you see online assume the overstuffed fuck-you kind of breast. Which is to say, adjust timing accordingly. This (these?) breast(s?) was OK but just a little too cooked in parts. The sauce was good.

And then there was the question of the four duck legs in the fridge. We couldn’t eat them that night because they take hours to cook, so we cooked them on Saturday. This was the recipe we used. It’s crazy how rudimentary those old Times pages look. At the same time, why? Are they static pages or something? You wouldn’t just update the style sheet? Maybe it’s done on purpose? It’s fascinating and ridiculous.

But it’s a great recipe. Jen wanted to make sure the skin was crispy. That it is. It’s also not overcooked at all. Mark Bittman calls it “crisp-braised.” It was super easy and super addictive. Nothing was left over.

One thing, though — why does a “whole duck leg” look suspiciously like two full duck legs? So we had what I would consider to be eight duck legs. I don’t know if the reboot means “two” or “four” or what. One thing I was surprised by was that given the interest in the vegetables that he continues to dice them. I’m assuming they don’t cook through correctly in the initial saute if they’re in bigger chunks, but wouldn’t they cook in that over for and hour? Maybe not; I definitely woudn’t know.