For years, in one of Hidden Valley's late 1980's model units, complete with pink and teal furnishings, fake plants, and plastic food, my family and I escaped the hubbub of the city in pursuit of quieter, starrier skies. But a long day flexing our intermediate skills on the slopes was as rugged as we got; there was always the promise of a hot shower, heaping bowl of chili, Blockbuster video, and cozy bed to come home to.
I was raised a city girl. I communed with nature by attending annual flower shows, pressing my face against the glass viewing areas at the zoo, and riding my bike on well traversed trails. When I was forced into the greater outdoors by science classes, field trips, and peer pressure I was uncomfortable and unhappy. The idea of sleeping bags, tents, flashlights, spiders, bugs, and snakes was a veritable nightmare.
On the other hand, Peter's permanent state of mind as a kid and as an adult resides in the wilderness - on top of the mountain, at the depths of the ocean, deep in the woods, close in proximity to the world's wildlife - specimens that I am most comfortable viewing stuffed in the Natural History Museum. He is the epitome of an outdoor adventurer, terrified of being landlocked, grounded, or (man)caved in for too long.
So there comes a weekend or two a year when our natural tendencies conflict. Say, when Peter gets a call from the wild and I need a date to a black tie affair. Say, this weekend. While Peter escaped into the marshy backwoods of Illinois' country side to commune with the ducks, I stepped out on the town with my fill in date, Ronald.
I have to admit, when Peter shares the photos and stories of his excursions, I feel the urge to dust off the old sleeping bag and join him. But when push comes to shove, I'm still overtly leery of going too far into the great outdoors. I prefer in legend and in gastronomy that nature be brought to me. So as it has in the past, our marriage of town and country was celebrated through dinner on Sunday - a fine dining fusion of wild Mallard with the tamed taste of a Port reduction.
Lo.
Seared Mallard Breasts with Cherry Port Sauce
Serves two
Ingredients:
Two Mallard breasts, split
2 tablespoons butter
Small shallot, minced
1/2 cup chicken stock
3 tablespoons Port
1/4 cup frozen whole cherries, thawed
Salt
Freshly cracked pepper
Directions:
Remove all excess fat (there shouldn't be much) from the duck breasts. Make sure all bbs or bullets are out of the meat. (Critical)
In a medium sauce pan, melt butter. Add duck breasts, and cook for about three-four minutes per side or until lightly browned. After you flip from one side to the other, put the lid on the pan to help get the center to the right temperature. Remove breasts and set aside.
Working quickly, add shallot to the reserved butter. Saute for about two minutes until aromatic. Add the stock and the port. Bring to a boil and continue rolling until sauce is reduced by 1/4. Add the cherries and finish reducing till reduced by half or able to thinly coat a spoon. Turn heat to low, add salt and cracked pepper. Then return duck breasts to the pan for a couple minutes. Remove again, slice thinly and plate, adding sauce and cherries to the top of each serving.
