Read Part One here.
The plane’s engines start to roar and everyone quickly sends their last text; then puts their personal electronics in the off position.
I think of the possibilities for my feathered friends at my feet: roasted, smoked, braised, basted or salted. The possibilities are endless and then the thought of side dishes and beverages! Yes … I’ll have beverages, better known as in-flight cocktails. The small bag of six peanuts and the $8 beer doesn’t cure my hunger or stop the mouthwatering thoughts of how I’m going to cook my organic poultry.
One of my favorite dishes is a smoked duck and pecan pate. It doesn’t get more southern than this. The process makes three days sitting in a hut waiting, seem like short and easy work. The petit pate takes a week to make. The ducks must be undressed of their plumage, which is no easy task. Then the naked duck needs to be soaked in brine for a few days. The local grocery store doesn’t carry brine but they do carry all the necessary fresh ingredients to make it from cider vinegar to apple juice to herbs to oranges. I am not skimping here.
Like I said, this is farm-fresh to table, no MSG or hard to pronounce chemical compounds. Once the meat has soaked and becomes full of flavor and tender, it’s time to smoke. Four hours of apple wood chips smoldering below causes billowing smoke to wrap around the breasts keeping the juicy goodness inside. Cooked and deboned, this tender scrumptious meat is mixed with pecans, sautéed mushrooms, Louisiana hot sauce and fresh herbs. Wait, there is more!
It needs a binder, which is no other than the heart stopping goodness that is mayonnaise. Don’t think that after watching sunrises and being personally accosted in airport security, that I’m grabbing a jar of Miracle Whip. Nope, I’m using the finest eggs from the chickens we have in the backyard and 2 cups of oil (that I didn’t make) and some freshly squeezed lemon juice and a dollop of mustard. The KitchenAid blender is ready to make chemistry come to life, better known as emulsifying. This is a wild and crazy process that’s fairly easy. The only requirement is patience. BAM! I have fresh mayonnaise to add to my mixture. All this hard work doesn’t end with a scoop of pate on a plate. All is packed into little molds to set, and then be distributed.
The time spent procuring is just half of the experience. It is a time for bonding with friends, gathering your thoughts and appreciating nature, taking notice of the minutes that fill an hour. The quietness of 800 acres without a road, a car or a building in sight causes one to become aware of their smallness. The second half of the whole experience is sharing small gestures of gratitude. My gratitude is in the form of little dome shaped molds of smoked duck pate that I share with friends. Nothing makes one more welcome than showing up at your friend’s house bearing food. I haven’t been turned down yet when I make a call with some freshly made food.
The captain’s voice snaps me from my gastronomical daydream, time to power down our personal electronics. This was a quicker journey than my feathered friends make, but they leave a smaller carbon footprint. My friendly stewardess makes her way to the back of the plane, insuring all the seats are in their upright positions. She glances at the cooler, making sure nothing has escaped, and smiles.
Seatbelts are fastened and I feel as safe as anyone speeding through the air at over 500 miles an hour with a nylon belt strapped around their waist. Since the stewardess is also strapped in, and my need for her service has come to an end, I continued our culinary conversation. Looking for common ground in our joys of food, I asked her what kind of wine she likes with her green crunchy friends. Her reply made me realize we weren’t even going to be Facebook friends, not even through mutual acquaintances. The answer wasn’t even a beverage of any kind, it was a statement about her last triathlon. I thought gathering food was a sport. If done well you can even turn it into a three course meal.
Learn more about Southeastern Pennsylvania-based artist (and duck hunter) Jeff Schaller at jeff-schaller.blogspot.com.
