Thrice cooked duck

Aiming high was the theme of Sunday night this week with the menu being Duck a'la Orange with roasted kipfler potatoes and wilted spinach. It is a mouthful to say and it was a mouthful to eat . . . when it was finally served.

So as I mentioned in the intro, cooking on Sunday night is just part of the whole adventure. I end up dedicating a good portion of the day to preparing. This is partly because I want it to be perfect and partly because I have the planning skills of a 5 year old child with ADD who is smacked out on red cordial mixed with red bull.

Sunday mornings usually consist of me cooking breakfast and watching the multitude of morning political new shows but today was a little underwhelming with only bread and eggs in the fridge (I had been away for a few weeks and had not shopped). I soldiered through eggs on toast and worked out a plan as best I could. I had a recipe and knew where to get French wine so all I needed was everything else (including a duck). James St markets seemed the go here - I am sure the pretentious love duck.

Off I went and decided to pop into Campos coffee for a hit of the good stuff. Too busy for me on a Sunday morning so postpone the caffeine injection for the moment. I was right and the overly cultured James St crowd love the duck. While I was there, I picked up the kipfler potatoes, spinach and white wine vinegar. I really wanted to get Maggie Beer white wine vinegar but alas, I was let down. I would have to add more of my secret ingredient to make up for this omission (and we know what that is).

So, without showing you a GPS display with my route, let's just say there was doubling back, useless trips to the city and driving backwards with my handbrake on involved in getting the remaining ingredients. Luckily I saw an open coffee shop as I was returning home for the eighth time and while I was in there saw two mini orange and pistachio cakes with my name on it - perfect for the (newly discovered) theme. They would go very well with the ice cream Damien and Caroline left at my place a month ago.

I started preping the ingredients as any good TV chef's assistant would do and got a message from Miss Peters saying she was on her way. No time to lose, there was preheating, peeling, basting and mixing to be done- and that was just me getting ready.

A part of my 8 trips across Brisbane today included getting a meat thermometer from my new favourite kitchen shop. This was my secret weapon and my only defence against the indecipherable cooking time in the recipe.

When Carla arrived, I put her in charge of the wilted spinach as I was honest in my self-assessment and knew I would be too stressed at the end of the duck's cooking time to be able to concentrate on the spinach. As I was already in focused, single minded mode that all men revert to in a time of stress, my instructions were "the recipe is on the internet". But in my defence I had already loaded the page.

It was all going smoothly and the duck was cooking (although Carla had noticed that its neck had come to attention in the oven as it was cooking - it was a little freaky, like it was looking for a way out). I was on to the sauce and cooking the duck for a second time (now with a stock mixture in the baking pan) and Carla was on the spinach prep. Sauce was reasonably easy but I had to read the recipe 18 times because I retain knowledge as well as I plan shopping trips.

The sauce was made, Carla was on the spinach and I was about the take out the duck. The trusty meat thermometer inserted in the thigh, (but, of course, not on the bone), was telling me it was time- like the lunch bell in an episode of Little House on the Prairie. Here we were - the moment of truth. The carving knife was poised, freshly sharpened using my new steel (trip 7 if 8 from today).

The disappointment in this moment was I really had no idea how to carve a duck. So I hacked into it and most of its bones for far too long before an edible portion was extricated. The further disappointment was with the duck thigh came far too much blood. Damn you meat thermometer and your false sense of security (insert fist shake here). So I pieced the duck back together and sentenced it to another 10 minutes in the oven (5 minutes of Carla trying to start her iPhone countdown timer and 5 minutes of countdown timer). Unfortunately this left the roasted potatoes and wilted spinach lonely on the plate:

But they survived, Carla lit the candle on my balcony (I have no light out there so this is the only way we can see the food we are eating), I poured us a glass of French wine and we sat down to a delightful Duck a'la Orange with roasted kipfler potatoes and wilted spinach with a side of KT Tunstall and it did not disappoint. The duck was not amazing in flavour and the sauce was a little shallow but the combination of it all and the work that went into it made it fantastic. I will say, the spinach (which was deftly cooked in butter and garlic) with the roasted kipfler potatoes were amazing together and I can see a future for those two.

Another sensational Sunday night dinner. I cannot wait to see what in in store for next week!!!

PS leftovers on Monday were AMAZING