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February 26, 2011

Goose, blood orange, sage, roasting goose aroma

Before we get started, let's do two three things:

1) The winner of the iTunes giftcard from the previous post (chosen via Random.org) is Beth, who wrote "I've been sick & had mostly crackers and Vernors ginger ale all weekend. Started to feel semi-human yesterday, so my sweet 17-year-old son made tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches (a bit charred on the outside, but whatev) for lunch. Knowing how lazy he is, I truly felt the love from that meal."  Congrats to Beth, and big ups to the kid for making his mom one of my favorite get-well meals of all time!

2) My dear friend Chef Nick Stefanelli made the preliminary cut for a James Beard Award nomination for Rising Star.  Fingers crossed that he makes the final cut, because he's really, really good at what he does, and some of his meals have left me speechless and thus returning the next day to eat his cooking again.  He's also up for a People's Choice award for Food & Wine's Best New Chef/Mid-Atlantic.  Can you throw some votes his way?  Polls close March 1.  Thanks!  You can read more about him at that link, but also know that Nick and his team at Bibiana can accommodate people with celiac, and they create the most pleasureable dining experiences, whether in the dining room or just grabbing a seat at the bar.  They've never made me feel like I was being a burden, and for that I am forever grateful.  Oh, and Nick is the one who made the tripe you guys forced me to eat.  Vote for Nick!

3) Chef Achatz' and Nick Kokonas' memoir Life, on the Line comes out in a few days, and I'm giving away a few copies.  Stay tuned.  I'll put up a little contest post on Wednesday. 

*   *   *   *   *

So..... "Goose, blood orange, sage, roasting goose aroma."  I adapted this recipe last summer and made a deviled goose egg.  Remember?

To make the full dish, my plan was to go hunting with my friends Hank Shaw and Holly Heyser to bag a few geese.  Sadly, those plans didn't work out (one of my clients needed me to stay in Washington that week) so I had to get some birds locally here in town, courtesy of Daniel Shirk at Pecan Meadow Farm.  Check 'em out:

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Each weighed about 9-10 lbs.

Before I started breaking them down, I consulted Hank's blog to see if there was a difference between breaking down a chicken (which I have plenty experience in doing) and a goose.  Turns out, there is.  I didn't take photos of the breaking-down process, because Hank has a post about it here, and the photo tutorial and directions are outstanding and much better than I could ever do.  Rumor is, it takes Hank about 5 minutes to break down a goose.  Took me nearly 45 minutes to do two.  Practice makes perfect, I guess.

I cured the breast meat in blade mace, black pepper, allspice, salt and sugar:

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I refreigerated them overnight.

I cured the goose legs in salt, sugar, pink salt, cloves, orange zest, nutmeg, and black pepper:

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Those went into the fridge overnight, as well.

The fat got rendered (another great Hank Shaw tutorial on goose and duck fat rendering, if you're interested):

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The carcass, necks, and wings were roasted in a 450F-degree oven for an hour, and then went into a giant pot (with onions, leeks, carrots, bay leaves, peppercorns, and tomato paste) to make stock: 

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See the time on the stove clock?  I'd started the stock around 1 a.m., and it was 3:23 a.m. when the dog woke me up to go outside because there was a small herd of deer in the front yard.  I'd fallen asleep on the sofa, but after I took Dex out into the cold night air for a minute or two to let him chase those deer back into the woods, I walked back into the house and thought to myself: those must have been the happiest geese when they were alive, because this stock smells even better than veal stock does when it's cooking.  No joke.  I don't know what it is about goose bones or those geese in particular, but there's something about how great this goose stock smelled, I decided to camp out on the sofa for the rest of the night to smell it as it simmered.  Didn't want to be further away from it, upstairs in my bedroom.  I drifted off to sleep lulled by the smell, and wasn't even pissed off when the oven timer went off a few hours later at 6 a.m. to get up to strain and cool it.  In fact, the very smell of it put a spring in my step the entire long weekend.  So, remember... you read it here first: Goose stock is a natural mood elevator.  I'm totally gonna pitch an article to JAMA about it.

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Now that I was awake, I had a lot of sous-vide-ing to do.  First up?  Oranges for orange sauce:

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Just one orange, quartered and seeded, with some grapeseed oil, salt, and sugar, cooked sous vide at 190F/88C for 3 hours.  Then blended, strained, and some orange juice whisked in before straining again:

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Next in the 190F/88C water bath go turnip cylinders, and sweet potato half-moons (both with a little goose fat):

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After the vegetables were done (in just 45 minutes), I plunged them -- still in their bags -- into a bowl of ice water to stop the cooking process, and then stored them (still bagged) in the fridge until it was time to reheat and serve them.

Next into the water bath?  The goose legs.  I rinsed off the cure and put them into two Ziploc sous vide bag with some goose fat.  Four hours at 190F/88C:

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I cooled them -- still bagged -- in a bowl of ice water, and then peeled off the skin (to use in stuffing later) before gently removing the meat from the bone.  I saved the meat in the fridge, and used it in the stuffing later.

The last thing to sous vide were the two goose breasts.  I rinsed off the cure, bagged them with some goose fat, and cooked it at 138F/59C for just 20 minutes.  I cooled the breasts (still bagged) in yet another bowl of ice water, then put the bag of now-cooked goose meat into the freezer overnight.

The next day, I took it out, and cut some thin slices, which went back into the freezer until it was time to plate and serve:

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The next day, I made the stuffing.  I sweated onions, celery, leeks, garlic, and fennel in some goose fat for about 10 minutes, and then let the mixture cool to room temperature.

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When the vegetables had cooled, I folded them in with bread cubes, eggs, goose stock, toasted celery seed, orange zest, nutmeg, salt, pepper, and goose leg meat, and some goose fat.

I coated a 9x13" baking dish with non-stick cooking spray, and laid down the skin from the goose legs.

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And just as I was spooning the stuffing mixture into the pan, my neighbor texted to tell me that not only did she have laryngitis and a sinus infection, but also that her younger son, Carter, had gotten a concussion the night before in a snowboarding accident.  Add that to her son Grant's (of the famous Grant Tipton Day, and who I made eat really awful lobster jelly) broken arm from when he was hit by a car a few weeks ago (yeah, that happened, too, during Carol's Really Bad Weeks Where Awful Things Happen To People She Cares About), I decided to change plans a bit.

Instead of tamping down the stuffing and refrigerating it overnight and finishing the dish the next day, I was going to have the Tiptons over for dinner that night and serve this dish as if it were a real dinner, instead of a tasting-size portion.  Into the oven went the stuffing...

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It needed to bake for 45 minutes to an hour in a 375F-degree oven.  I put it in, set the timer for 50 minutes, and went upstairs to pay bills and do some work.  Just as I was finishing an email to a client, my nose intervened and I could tell the stuffing was done. I walked into the kitchen, and blammo -- only one minute left.

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That is one of my most favorite things about doing this blog and French Laundry at Home.  It's really honed every single one of my senses, and I can now cook a lot of things without using a timer because I can tell the precise moment that something is done.  Sweet, savory, you name it.  I might not seem like a big deal to most people, but I get a kick out of it every single time. 

I took the stuffing out of the oven, lifted the foil that had been covering it, and GRANT ACHATZ ARE YOU KIDDING ME WITH THIS?!??!?!!?  Just when I thought goose stock was the best smell in the world comes this most remarkable stuffing.  Goose, orange, garlic, fennel, onion, nutmeg.... AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAAA!!!!!! I jumped up and down like a giant freakin' dork, clapping my hands, and dancing around the kitchen like I'd won the lottery.  Which I kind of did, culinarily.

I'd abandoned the book's instructions at this point, and decided I was just going to pull the rest of the meal together on my own without the 500F-degree river stones and aroma bowl (didn't need it; the food was intoxicatingly beautiful-smelling on its own).  I put the frozen goose breast slices under the broiler to warm them.  I whipped up some celery root purée (because I'm still kind of obsessed with it from the venison dish), and reduced a combination of goose stock, veal stock, red wine, port, salt, pepper, and a hint of sage (with a pinch of freshly grated nutmeg) as a sort of gravy.  I figured we needed something green, so I made a salad of mâche with caramelized shallots and sautéed green beans (frozen fresh over the summer and defrosted for the salad) with a fig-mustard vinaigrette.  I squeezed a small pool of the orange sauce under the turnip and sweet potato pieces.  And, the pièce de résistance: seared cubes of foie gras.

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This, my friends, is one of the best meals I have ever made in my entire life.  From start to finish, it took nearly four days to create this plate of food, and every single minute was worth it.  From the way the goose stock smelled, to my nose-timer, to being able to whip up celery root purée and a sauce to go with it, to the way the orange zest transformed the stuffing way beyond my expectations, to just being able to adapt to changing circumstances... that is why I love cooking my way through books that intimidate me.  It builds core skills.  It teaches me new things.  It instills a sense of pride and accomplishment.  It gives me new milestones to celebrate on this path to perfecting a craft. 

But most of all, it has given me the ability to say "hey, it sounds like life sucks for you guys right now; why don't you come over for dinner tonight" and be able to include foie gras, goose leg confit, and cured goose breast in my comfort food repertoire.

That is why I keep pushing myself with this book.  The training I'm getting yields the most satisfying results when I least expect it.  And those unexpected moments of satisfaction, pride, and being able to care for other people makes life a little bit sweeter, doesn't it?

We ended the dinner with a pint or two (or, um, three if I'm being honest) of Jeni's Ice Cream, and a salad of white grapefruit, pink grapefruit, blood orange, and cara cara orange with basil-lime sugar.

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Oh, and the little bonus moment that came just as I loaded up the dishwasher at the end of the night?  It started snowing.

A very good long weekend, indeed.

Up Next: Life, on the Line giveaway.

Resources: Geese from Daniel Shirk at Pecan Meadow Farm; veal stock from my freezer; produce,  aromatics, and gluten-free prairie bread from Whole Foods; spices from my pantry; blade mace from Terra Spice; foie gras from Hudson Valley Foie Gras; David's kosher salt; Domino sugar.

Music to Cook By: Fitz and the Tantrums; Pickin' Up the Pieces. I can't NOT move when I hear "Breakin' The Chains of Love" and I can't NOT picture "Don't Gotta Work it Out" as a great, semi-drunken break-up anthem sung loudly with friends in a bar as it plays on the jukebox.  You guys, this is a really great album.  Great to cook to, great to clean to, great to drive to, and would be the perfect background music at a dinner party or a night hanging out with friends, having a few beers or a bottle of wine and some noshes.  Can't recommend it enough.

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Alright, that does it! With this post (you had me at the stuffing) you've gotten me to, finally, get off the fence and order this book.

Cheers,

John

What kind of bread did you use for the stuffing? I'm still trying to find a good wheat-free bread that works well for stuffing.
[I bought it at Whole Foods, in the gluten-free freezer case: it's called "prairie bread" and it's full of all sorts of great flours and seeds. Not great on its own, or even as toast, but for stuffing? I LOVE IT. -----CB]

Awesome. That is one of Grant's greatest dishes going back to Trio.

Carol-

This is unbelievable. I love how you deconstructed the process because it made me feel just a teeny bit less intimidated by a project like this. I felt like I was right there with you on the learning process--you have much patience. Cooking is like meditation sometimes--gives you the opportunity to open up to a lot of different things around you and appreciate each one of them. I especially like the discovery of gift of smelling when something is done. I will need to hone such a skill. thank you for letting me share in your wonderful experience.

Beautiful job, both on the cooking and the photos. I cannot even imagine how good all of this tasted and know that your friends appreciated the amazing food in their hour of need. I am getting the "nose" too and it pleases me greatly.
p.s. guessing that blade mace probably is nothing like that little plastic jar in my cupboard.

Very nice. Your enthusiasm is infectious, Carol. Now I must go cook...

This makes me feel a little guilty that I stalled the process of this amazing dish; but, my god, WHAT A FINAL PLATE!!!

You just continue to amaze, Carol...

Oh, good Lord Carol. I mean, really.

If I remember correctly, we didn't *force* you to consume tripe. We simply helped you make the decision to do so. *wink*

I've never had goose because I always thought it was sorta gamey tasting. Is that true? Even a little?

How does Jeni's Buckeye stack up to Graeter's?

[Goose isn't gamey at all. It's like duck, only heartier. And Jeni's kicks Graeter's ass. -------CB]

That meal looks absolutely amazing, and I know exactly what you mean about learning to use your nose. I have been delighted to realize, over the past year, that I am learning to use my ears as a cook -- I can tell when water in the kettle is heated to the point where I want to pour it over my ground coffee, but not yet boiling, and I'm getting very sensitized to the different sounds made by, say, raw onions sizzling in fat, and the same onions having wilted down and begun to caramelize. It's very cool.

Question: The frozen duck breast looked to have a thick rim of fat around it, under the skin. Did you treat this in any way? Was it pleasant to eat? Or did you just cut it off? Did it render out when you "heated" the frozen meat under the broiler?

Ok, I guess that's questions plural.

[There was actually very little fat in that layer, and when I put it under the broiler, it melted/rendered and helped to cook the meat, itself. And, I hear ya (ha ha) on the listening-to-the-water thing. Just did the very same thing this morning and didn't even know I was doing it until I read your comment. :) -------CB]

Last weekend I had planned to make celery root puree (with roasted chicken and kale) because I remembered reading how much you loved it. When my husband heard the dinner plan, he got quiet and said "Can we just have pizza?" Guess what I'm making tonight come culinary hell or high water? Opinions be damned - I want to make that puree!

Your final product looks amazing. Thanks to Keller, I discovered parsnips (I love the way they smell when I cut into them!) and other root veggies. If I ever find goose, I will make this dish pronto -- and try this celery root you are so fond of.

Is it wrong of me to find the way you greased your Pyrex dish pretty? The combination of non-stick cooking spray plus Pyrex glass plus the natural (?) light in your kitchen made a plain 9X13 baking dish look like frosted glass!

Hey! Thanks for the shout-out! Too bad we did not get you out for some geese this year. We need to do a field trip with you, Grant and the peeps from Alinea. I bet they'd get a kick out of it.

Nicely done on the goose, too. But you are wrong about me breaking down a goose in 5 minutes. When pressed, I can do it in 2... The first 100-or-so birds are hard. It gets easier after that. ;-)

Next time try confiting the legs overnight at 160 degrees. I like the result better. You might be able to get away with just 6-8 hours with a domestic goose leg, too.

Cheers!

h.

Woah - weird life merge moment here. My friend James King is the saxophonist for Fitz and the Tantrums. Now I know they've made it! :)

[I love their music. Love love love.... ----CB]

You are a rock star. I love this post! This really seemed doable, even over a four day period. yummmmmmm.

Are you happy with how the ziploc vacuum bags work cooking sous vide?

Thanks!

[Yep, I am. ---CB]

Oh. My. Heavens. There were 2 things you wrote in here that hit me like a ton of bricks, because I thought I was the only one who cooked by smell! I'll be prepping something else, and my head will pop up and think, "That smells done!" I think it comes from living 5 years with an oven that had no thermostat, it was either on (at about 400) or off. I have a probe thermometer for checking meat temps, but pretty much just learned how to adjust...

The other thing was your statement, "But most of all, it has given me the ability to say, 'Hey, it sounds like life sucks for you guys right now; why don't you come over for dinner tonight.'

That sentence right there covers about 80% of my cooking- pampering people and showing them love by giving them an amazing meal they didn't have to lift a finger for...

Yay! :-)

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