Rooftop Gourmet

The South End just got a whole lot more convenient… and organic! In order to prevent complete carnivorous and primal weeknight dinners, my continuous trips to the Butcher Shop were typically followed by another stop at a grocery store or market to grab some fresh vegetables. Just recently, Siena Farms from Sudbury opened a year-round Farmstore adjacent to the Butcher Shop.

This almost-one-stop shopping has made my life so much easier! It’s a tiny little shop, about the size of my bedroom closet but they make great use of the space and constantly stock fresh produce that changes with the season and whatever is fresh.

Here is their mission statement about their produce, “Siena Farms’ produce is grown using the traditionally sustainable farming practices of modern organic agriculture; free of chemical herbicides, pesticides, and synthetic fertilizers. The soil fertility of our fifty-acre farm is built annually through the use of natural composts, cover crops and certified organic fertilizer, which together supply valuable nutrients to the farm’s soil – and thus to your produce”.

The other night, I made my way over after work to find something to make for dinner. They had so much amazing produce that I couldn’t resist grabbing a little bit of this and a little bit of that. I picked up some fresh artichokes (which I hardly ever cook due to the annoying prep work), watermelon radish, and some homemade Burrata cheese. So random… I know. I felt like I had just opened my wicker basket on an episode of Chopped and had to make a decent meal out of three outrageously different ingredients.

I stepped into the Butcher Shop and gazed intently into the glass doors, mesmerized like the little girl in the Poltergeist. The wheels started turning and a few light bulbs went off before snatching a couple of homemade venison sausages. It can be quite hard to create a dish around a type of cheese but I felt that the venison sausage could work well with the Burrata.

Whenever I serve a type of game meat, such as duck or venison, I feel that it’s beneficial to balance it with something sweet on the plate. I happened to have a jar of fig jam that I thought would work perfectly with both the creamy cheese and the deer sausage.

After peeling, trimming, and prepping the artichokes, I dipped them in acidulated water to keep them from turning brown. Once they were completely dry, I roasted them in the oven until each and every leaf of the heart was brown and crispy.

I also roasted the watermelon radish which I think is one of the coolest vegetables visually and in terms of taste. From the outside, it’s white and hairy, just absolutely gross looking. When you slice into it, it looks exactly like a baby watermelon! When eaten raw, it has a fruity, spicy and peppery note to it, and when it gets roasted and sprinkled with sea salt, they become buttery and rich.

After caramelizing handfuls of onions, I placed the Burrata on top of the golden brown pile and warmed it in the oven. Burrata is a special type of cheese that I can’t resist buying whenever I see it (obviously).

In terms of how it’s made, it starts off very similar to fresh Mozzarella. When it’s still quite soft, the ball of cow’s milk cheese is actually injected with heavy cream or Marscapone to make it even richer and creamier. So when you slice into it, instead of a firm Mozzarella, the cheese is softer and oozes with an intense, rich, creamy flavor. It’s like the “over-easy” version of a ball of Buffalo Mozzarella.

I roasted the plump venison sausages in the oven gently so that the casings didn’t burst, and the delicious juices didn’t run. The outside achieved that crispy, “pop” and the inside was still moist and medium rare (being venison, it was okay to undercook the sausage slightly). The Butcher Shop added some lovely spices to compliment the game meat, such as what I believe was nutmeg, cinnamon, or clove.

I served the sliced venison sausage around the gooey Burrata, topped with a sticky, fig jam. Surrounding the meat were the crispy chokes, colorful radish, and some refreshing celery leaves.

This whimsical dish was rather hard to muster up a pairing, but I ended up popping a wine that I had been saving for quite some time. The 2005 Francois Gaunoux Pommard La Tavannes from Burgundy France was my wine of choice. Red Burgundy (Pinot Noir) is considered to be some of the most intriguing, complex, and elegant wine in the entire world. It is also extremely versatile when it comes to food pairings.

This wine was somewhat light but had tons of earthy, funky characteristics combined with ripe strawberry and raspberry fruit that balanced nicely with the gamey venison and creamy cheese. The subtle spice notes in the finish rounded out the experience and gave this seven year old wine some serious credibility. The warm ball of Burrata oozed with gooey cream that was stipend by the sticky jam and then mopped up by a slice of crispy sausage.

One amazing bite after another, concluded with a crispy contrast in lieu of a roasted artichoke heart. Surprisingly, a spur of the moment stop in my new favorite, year-round farm stand turned into an incredible meal. How could it not when the produce is this fresh? At least I’ll save money on gas because I won’t be making more than one stop on the way home from now on!

If there was one word that could sum up the evening of December 31, 2011 it would be indulgence.

My wife and I held a dinner party for seven of our closest friends on New Year’s Eve to celebrate the end of what was probably the busiest year of our lives.

When it came to menu planning, I may have gotten a little bit carried away, but as the clock struck midnight, and we all sat at the table, exhausted, clutching our elastic waistbands and simultaneously picking at cheese and coconut cake, it was totally worth the effort. Everyone was happy, thankful, and over-indulged.

There’s something calming and comforting, spending the night with great food, close friends, and delicious wines rather than fighting crowds for cheap Champagne at a bar  or baring the elements in Times Square. Let’s just say that we really ended 2011 with a bang… or was that the sound of someones belt buckle popping off?

Here is a copy of the New Years Eve menu:

First Course:

Assorted Cheeses From Around the World

Foie Gras Mousee’

Marinated Olives

Duck Liver & Black Truffle Terrine

Caviar

Second Course:

Crispy Braised Pork Belly, Carrot Puree’, Pickled Apples

Third Course:

Island Creek Oysters 2 Ways

Classic Baked Rockafeller

Freshly Shucked with Ossetra Caviar, Creme Fraiche’, Tarragon

Fourth Course:

Baked Escargot Gratin; Garlic-Parsley Butter, Warm Baguette

Fifth Course:

Raviolo Uovo

Wild Mushrooms, Thyme-Butter, Parmigiano-Reggiano, White Truffle Oil

Sixth Course:

Sliced Beef Tenderloin with two Sauces;

Classic Bordelaise’ & Creamy Horseradish-Tarragon Sauce

Pommes Puree’, Roasted Butternut Squash & Raw Kale Salad

Seventh Course:

Double Coconut Cake

I get cold sweats just typing that up again! Thankfully, I received a ton of help from some of my favorite vendors and friends. I spent the last week of the year brainstorming, prepping, and and anxiously awaiting our event. Each course represents one of my all-time favorite foods, whether it is in its natural state, prepared classically, or with a new and exciting twist. Thanks to Wasiks Cheese Shop in Wellesley (http://www.wasiks.com/), I had more cheese in my 900 square foot condo than the entire country of Switzerland.

Everything you could possibly imagine, from sharp and nutty Gruyere to oozy gooey, buttery Triple Creme. I also had a pound of Foie Gras Mousse’ that I picked up from the Butcher Shop in the South End. It was so rich but light and airy at the same time.

We spread it like butter on slices of a fresh baguette and let the goose liver melt in our mouths. The texture was like whipped butter and when combined with a few crumbles of the pungent, blue cheese it was heaven in a single bite (That last phrase will most likely become repetitive throughout this whole post). After we grazed the cheese boards, everyone sat down at the table that my wife so wonderfully decorated with white roses and printed menu cards. I brought out the first course which shows off my love for the ever-so versatile pig.

I had braised pieces of fatty pork belly in winter spiced ale, soy and aromatics until it was completely tender, about 3 hours. Right before I served it, I crisped up the outsides of the pork belly in a skillet and served it atop a silky carrot puree. The bright orange color of the puree was a beautiful contrast with the rustic hunk of pig.

For a slight pop of acidity, I used my melon-baller to release little balls of granny smith apples, in which I pickled with cinnamon sticks, and cloves to infuse a wintery spice. It gave the oversized cube of bacon a familiar companion of applesauce and cinnamon aromas and flavors that it’s used to. The juicy belly meat, woven in between layers of succulent fat seemed to dissolve in my mouth. The sweet carrots and sharp pickles were exactly what the belly needed to help balance out the dish.

It was a perfect first bite to lead into an even more extravagant meal. The next course required some serious grunt work. A dinner party set to the theme of indulgence wouldn’t be complete without some fresh oysters. We picked up two dozen of one of my favorite varieties, Island Creek oysters from Duxbury, MA. They always seem to be the perfect size, not too small and not intimidatingly large.

They have striking minerality and freshness with a plump body, and a rather salty finish that I can’t get enough of. With the first dozen, we decided to bake in the classic Rockafeller style. I topped each bivalve with crispy bacon, sautéed spinach, shredded Gruyere cheese, heavy cream, Pernot, and fresh lemon juice. After a few minutes in the broiler, the cheese has melted and the contents of the deep, metallic shell was bubbling away. The rich, creamy and nutty topping had an underlying hint of anise aroma from the evaporated, French liquor.

Trying to shoot them back without making loud, and obnoxious, “mmmmmmm”, sounds was a real feat. In the meantime, I shucked the other dozen and served them on ice with a dollop of creme fraiche, a spoonful of Ossetra caviar, and a sprig of fresh tarragon. In my opinion, this could have been my favorite bite of the evening. It was simple, luxurious, and gratifying; not to mention the balance of flavors really just worked well together. As the last oyster shell was tossed into the garbage, the smell from the next course had already permitted throughout the entire house. I had a baking dish in the oven, littered with baby snails that were all bubbling away in a homemade garlic-parsley butter and topped with breadcrumbs and Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese.

Thankfully, the couples at dinner weren’t on a first date, because this butter was garlicky! We plated this course family-style and all of us dove in with chewy bread to soak up the cheesy butter. The snails were delicate and tender, offering earthy, mushroomy flavors as they swam in the bright green butter.

The oysters and snails course was paired with some Grand Cru Chablis from William Fevre that was crisp and refreshing. Notes of butterscotch, baked apples and puff pastry came off the initial wave of aroma, but the wine was perfectly balanced, clean, and crisp on the finish. Just when everyone thought that the night was dying down, we hit them with the next course which is hands down, one of my favorite pasta dishes I have ever eaten. Thanks to Leigh from Nella Pasta (http://www.nellapasta.com/), this single Raviolo was freaking amazing!

Raviolo Uovo is only one ravioli, filled with a creamy ricotta filling and a fresh egg yolk. Leigh put some serious time and effort into not only making the homemade pasta, but shopping for the highest quality local ingredients. She rolled out the pasta into thin sheets and filled the massive ravioli with a piped, local ricotta mixture that was studded with chopped black truffles. A well was formed in the cheese and she carefully dropped in these gigantic, farm-fresh egg yolks that were so bright and orange that they glimmered through the thin sheet of pasta on top.

Leigh expressed her frustration with the delicacy of the yolks and how they kept popping on her wedding ring, and ended up thrown across the kitchen. Finally, she managed to keep ten ravioli in great shape for the walk over. We gingerly simmered the pasta for a mere minute before sautéing and basting them in a thyme-brown butter sauce. We served the Uovo on a plate with some roasted wild mushrooms and freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese, finished with an abnormal dowsing of white truffle oil.

My knees began to buckle while plating due to ingestion of sensual truffle fumes. We all anxiously awaited the”ta-da”,  moment where one of our forks pierced the raviolo, displaying a slow, oozing of the poached egg yolk onto the plate. It was one of the sexiest moments and bites I have ever witnessed in all my days of cooking and eating. We managed to capture the “money-shot” of the fatty yolk swirling on the plate with beads of truffle oil floating atop the surface.

I served this pasta course with a magnum of 2004 Marchesi di Barolo Cannubi Barolo that I had been decanting for over 5 hours. It opened up beautifully and displayed delicate aromas of fresh violets, cherries, and spice. The tannins in the young Nebbiolo cut through the creamy egg yolk and the truffles and Barolo were reunited again. Believe it or not, we were ready for our final savory course of the night… and making good time thanks to our impromptu dishwashers. I had made two different sauces for the beef tenderloin the night before. One was a traditional bordelaise sauce that started off by making one of the most intense beef stocks ever. I roasted pounds and pounds of bones and made a homemade stock for an entire 24 hours, periodically skimming the fat and impurities from the surface.

Then I combined the rich stock with the reduction of two bottles of dry red wine. As the sauce slowly reduced, it thickened and intensified. The other sauce I made was a simple cream sauce with freshly grated horseradish root and sliced tarragon. The balance of spicy and savory was an interesting accompaniment to the tender beef. I simply seared the five-pound roast and rolled in on my cutting board through handfuls of smashed, whole black peppercorns. As it roasted in the oven, it gave us a chance to digest and have a little fun with my new toy that I bought for the evening… a porron!

A porron is a vessel commonly seen in tapas’ bars throughout Spain. It looks like a wine decanter with a spout, and it is filled with wine that eventually gets poured directly into your mouth from very high level. The thin stream gives you just enough time to swallow and allows for pinpoint accuracy when poured from several feet in the air. Here is a video that demonstrates how the porron is used: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bCqCp1ot15A. Needless to say, we managed to keep the wine out of our clothes and our carpet, and my wife was able to take a deep breath. I pulled the roast from the oven at the perfect time, and allowed the juices to redistribute before slicing it into pieces. We served it medium rare with a creamy pommes puree’, both sauces, and a roasted butternut squash and raw kale salad with chopped hazelnuts.

We figured that we needed something fresh and green to serve after all these overly rich dishes. You could cut the tenderloin of beef with a fork it was so tender and juicy. I typically prefer cuts of meat that aren’t as lean, but with the two sauces, the flavor was still booming. For the grand finale, we popped a 3.0 Liter bottle of 2006 Ladera Howell Mountain Cabernet Sauvignon to serve with the beef. For the time it took me to pop the oversized cork on this monster, the wine better be damn good.

It was loaded with powerful blackberry, cherry, and cassis up front, and more developed, richer flavors of vanilla, toasty oak, and creamy coffee on the finish. By this time, we didn’t think anyone would be ready for dessert, but we were wrong. I ordered the double coconut cake from Sportello down the street and when we picked this thing up we didn’t realize that it weighed about twenty pounds. I’m not a big dessert guy, but whenever we eat at Sportello, I have to end the night with a sliver; it’s just that good. The shredded, toasty coconut isn’t just flaked on the outside of the frosting, but baked into each layer of cake as well. We sat around, reminiscing about the meal we just conquered, sipping on Pretty Things, St. Botolph’s Old Town Brown Ale fresh from the keg, and small glasses of 12yr old Pappy Van Winkle Bourbon.

At midnight we popped a few bottles of the 2003 Roderer Estates L’Ermitage Brut and washed back some of the leftover caviar and cheese as if we couldn’t get enough, knowing that 2012 was the start to diets and healthy lifestyles. We lasted long into the night playing silly games, picking at leftovers, and enjoying each others company. I hope that 2012 is filled with even more great food, family and friends. Happy New Year to everyone!

This past Wednesday couldn’t have been a more miserable day in terms of weather. The rain was blowing sideways, it was finally cold enough to wear a coat, and the sky was laden with dark, grey clouds. A perfect day for an adventure! I called the Butcher Shop on a whim and ordered 2 whole rabbits. A typical Wednesday afternoon right? We had dinner plans with my friend and his girlfriend that night and I wanted to put some extra work into preparing a dish that we normally wouldn’t serve.

My friend and I studied abroad in Italy together back in 2004, and I remember ordering a braised rabbit dish in the town of Trastevere, Rome and like I do more than I probably should, tried to force him to take a bite. He’s much more adventurous now and quite frankly he didn’t have a choice; I was making rabbit. I hadn’t actually cooked a rabbit since culinary school, but once I got the little bunny on my cutting board, it was just like riding a bike.

Rabbit is a pretty simple animal to understand. As intimidating as it sounds, visually it’s rather elementary. Just by glancing at it, you know where the hind legs are, you know where the front legs are, and just inside the ribcage is the loin. It’s also an extremely lean animal so there isn’t a lot of work to do in order to find the meat. Since I was cooking the rabbits whole, there was very little butchering to be done.

I removed the heart, kidneys and liver from the cavity and set them aside for bigger and better things; the liver is perfect for finishing my Bolognese sauce to give it a creamy, earthy layer of flavor.

Thankfully, we received the mothership of all Le Crusset pots as a wedding gift because these were not small bunnies and there is no chance that they would fit in the standard dutch oven. Our massive, fire engine-red, 15-quart pot can feed a family of 40 and I’m pretty sure it’s the same size as my wife’s largest suitcase. I actually had to turn on both front and back burners in order to get the entire surface hot enough to sear the bunnies.

I seasoned the rabbit with salt and pepper and sizzled them away in the pot, flipping only once, until both sides developed a dark, golden sear. I then removed the rabbits and set them aside while I built the layers of flavor, starting with the basic aromatics.

A classic mirepoix of carrot, celery and onion hit the pot along with a few smashed garlic cloves. You don’t want to rush this step, because this is where you really create the foundation for your braise.

Let the mirepoix caramelize, harmonize with the crusty rabbit bits stuck to the bottom from the sear, and sweat until completely soft. At this point, I added an entire bottle of dry, white wine and let it reduce until all that was left was about a half cup of liquid.

This burns off the alcohol, deglazes the pot, and concentrates the flavor of the wine. I decided to serve my braised rabbit in a fresh pasta with mushrooms, so in order to enhance and compliment the mushrooms I used a quick mushroom stock in the braise. I use this same technique when making mushroom risotto. I take dried, porcini mushrooms and rehydrate them in scalding hot water.

After about ten minutes the water is dark brown and rich with loads of umami.

I carefully returned the two rabbits to the pot and laid them gently on their side. All I could think of was the Bugs Bunny cartoon from when I was younger, where Elmer Fudd had Bugs in the large cauldron of boiling water. Sure enough, Bugs outsmarted Fudd by ladling the soup onto the hot coals and putting out the fire before he eventually escaped. Thankfully these guys were staying put for a solid 2.5 hours in a 325 degree oven.

I added some chicken stock, the intensified porcini liquid, and a bouquet garni that contained a few sprigs of thyme, rosemary and bay leaf before the lid was sealed and into the oven it went.

While the rabbits were braising away, I had plenty of time to get ready for my guests. I planned on serving a fresh pasta which, despite my ambition with the protein, I didn’t actually make myself.

I bought some fresh linguini from my friends at Nella Pasta, a local company specializing in fresh ingredients grown in neighborhood farms. I also picked up some golden chanterelle mushrooms, which along with morels and truffles are among the highly esteemed fungi in the culinary world. They’re meaty, fruity and woody and when cooked in fat their flavor elevates to a whole new level.

Sticking with a rustic, hunter-style meal, I chose to serve a wine exhibits that same profile. The 2008 Felsina Chianti Classico is one of my favorite producers from the heart of Tuscany.

The bright, young cherry fruit intermingles with earthy, herbaceous notes and there’s a long, dry finish that has a pleasant, wet tobacco characteristic. A simple yet complex Chianti is a perfect match for a bowl of fresh pasta with slow cooked game and mushrooms.

Once the rabbit meat was falling from the bone, I removed them from the pot to cool and this is where the real tedious part of the day started. I strained the braising liquid into a sauce pot and started reducing the rabbit/porcini stock into a sauce.

In the meantime, I hovered over the counter and began picking the tender rabbit meat from the skeleton. Everyone says that rabbit tastes like chicken and I don’t disagree completely. It tastes almost like chicken thighs that are slightly more oily and gamier. Personally, I think that rabbit has more flavor than chicken but to each his own. So it turns out that the two massive rabbits that I picked up about five hours earlier only yielded one quart of pulled meat total. HA!

Our guests arrived and there were no cute little bunnies, no remnants of rabbit, just a tupperware container filled to the brim with succulent braised meat. I opted not to show them the “before” pictures until after dinner was served. I tossed the fresh linguini into boiling water for only a few moments and warmed the rabbit meat in a skillet with some of the reduced braising liquid.

When the pasta was cooked, I added it to the pan along with some fresh thyme and a healthy spoonful of butter. Crank up the heat and the stock and fat emulsifies into a silky rich sauce that coats the pasta, causing it to glisten and causing my guests to start drooling. I finished it with some freshly grated Pecorino Romano cheese for a tangy, nutty kick.

We sat down at the table, lit some candles and listened to the rain crash against the siding of the condo. At that very moment, after a warming and rewarding sip of the elegant Sangiovese, there was a sense of comfort watching the long noodles twirl around the diners’ forks. The flavor of the rabbit with the intense porcini sauce and the melt-in-your mouth texture of the fresh pasta was just what I needed on that dreary day. It turns out that instead of forcing my friend to try a bite of the rabbit, I actually had to force him not to lick his plate at the dinner table.

Unless you’re an avid hunter with excellent aim, or know a great butcher, it can be hard to get your hands on some quality game meat. Luckily, our friend Leigh’s father is a certified, wildlife ass-kicker, who goes on hunting trips armed with a massive bow and arrow. He snipes all sorts of delicious animals such as elk, caribu, deer, and goose just to name a few. Last Sunday, Leigh was generous enough to empty out her freezer for us while we watched the big futbol game.

We had plenty of time to plan the menu in between all the scoring going on between Spain and Netherlands. It was beautiful out, so we moved the party up to the roofdeck and opened a few bottles of crisp white wine to enjoy with our first course… Sliced venison summer sausage with extra sharp cheddar and three peppercorn mustard.

 As soon as the deer was killed, it was professionally butchered, ground up with pork fat filler, and piped into natural casings. It had the appearance of Genoa Salami but the flavor was definitely different. There was an intriguing gamey flavor that came out in the aftertaste, which was perfect with the velvety pork fat and the tangy cheese. This was some serious charcuterie!

After a few craft brews and a Spain victory, I opened some celebratory Spanish Godello to go with our next bird course. This was the first animal of the evening that I have yet to try. Breasts were removed from a goose, corned by boiling in salted water for a long period of time, and them dowsed in peppercorns before getting smoked. This is how pastrami is made.

The goose pastrami looked like two, bright red, clenched fists that were dipped in black pepper. We sliced them very thinly to reveal the bright purple, flesh and a wonderful, smoky aroma. We made a huge platter of goose pastrami crostini, topped with a chiffonade of shallots and sage, followed by a healthy drizzle of black walnut balsamic reduction.

The sweet, vinegar complimented the smoky meat nicely as I wolfed down a handful of these gamey treats. It brought me back to the days of sitting Indian-style in my living room, clenching my bright orange weapon, and picking off virtual ducks, which is obviously as close as I’ve come to hunting real birds.

Even my friend Tommy, whom I had to get “back up” food for, chomped away at the goose while pretending to line up a sea gull that swooped over our heads. The sun started to set along the skyline and it was time to start cooking the main course. This is what I had been waiting for all day. The giant elk that is getting pummeled by Rambo in the attached picture is what went into our burgers.

 Elk is not only the largest species of deer, but also one of the largest mammals found in North America. It was shot by Leigh’s dad, butchered, ground immediately to ensure freshness.

You know you’re not eating your typical dose of hormones and other additives when consuming a free range animal. The flesh was bright red and extremely lean. Even though elk has tons of natural flavor, I added some chunks of cubed butter to the patties so that the burgers didn’t dry out during the cooking process.

 I pan seared the burgers in a giant cast iron skillet and then finished them off under the broiler to melt the smoked gouda on top. I also adorned the half pounders with some sauteed shiitake mushrooms, and grilled scallions that were marinated in Fig Balsamic Vinegar. The earthy flavor in the shrooms, combined with the sweet char on the onions accentuated the gaminess of the elk. I didn’t want to mask the flavor of the giant deer with tons of unneeded bread, so I simply slid it into a paper thin pita pocket to serve.

 I marched up the spiral staircase, with a giant platter of elk burgers, slightly chilled Pinot Noir, and tons of napkins. The burgers were jaw numbingly huge, and freshly pink and juicy. There was no way that this treat could pass for beef because the wild flavors were so intense and concentrated. It was by far one of the most interesting, and most delicious burgers I have ever consumed. After all this food, everyone was pretty full, but we brought up one final course to nibble on as the sun dipped behind the Prudential.

Even if we had to remove our belts, we were going to make room for some grilled skirt steak, sliced, and tossed with some Asian Sesame noodles. The cool ocean breeze cut through the humidity, and made it bearable to digest under the stars as we finished off some more wine, and planned a massive hunting trip in the Fall. It’s one thing to be a gatherer, and pick up your own food at the supermarket, but to be a hunter and truly appreciate the flavors of what you catch is something that I really want to experience.

Believe it or not, I made this entire dish using only four ingredients. That’s what’s great about cooking. As long as you have quality, fresh, and flavorful ingredients, you can create an elegant meal with just a little bit of  imagination.

As I’ve done in the past, I take classic dishes such as the Italian’s Veal Saltimbocca alla Romana and put my own modern twist on it. Saltimbocca translates to, “jump in the mouth”, because that’s exactly what all of the flavors do. Classically, it consists of a paper thin, veal cutlet that has a layer of prosciutto and fresh sage leaves, which is then rolled up and cooked in butter.

I decided to use a duck breast instead of the veal because I had a gorgeous bottle of Pinot Noir at home that I was excited to try. Duck and Pinot are one of my favorite combinations, right up there with Brady and Moss, and Godfather 1 and 2. Since duck breasts have a pretty decent sized layer of fat on top, I opted to leave the prosciutto at the deli counter. Besides, the only thing that I can think of that would be better than a paper thin slice of Prosciutto di Parma melting on my tongue, is a piece of crispy duck fat.

Whole Foods didn’t have prepared duck breasts, so I was forced to buy a whole duck and butcher it myself, which I don’t mind because I save the bones and miscellaneous parts for sauces. It’s been a while since I’ve deboned Daffy, but after a few minutes, I managed to produce two beautiful filets.

I scored the top of the skin in a criss-cross pattern, being careful not to puncture the bright purple flesh beneath. Scoring the skin side prevents the fat from curling and separating from the breast meat as it cooks.

I placed the breast, skin side down in a cold sautepan and turn the heat on just so slightly. This was somewhat tricky, because I needed to crisp up the skin without cooking the actual meat. Once the pan gets warm, the fat in the skin starts to release tons of aromatic duck fat juices and actually fries the skin it its own fat. This is the part where I get flustered because the smell of duck fat sends me into a frenzy. Duck fat ranks right above pork fat on my scale of most delicious animal fats (yes, I have a list of those).

After the skin was golden brown, I removed the breast from then pan and threw it into the fridge to stop the cooking. Once it was cool, I suffocated it underneathth a few layers of plastic wrap and pounded it into a paper thin circle.

 I seasoned the breast meat with salt and pepper and layered the freshly snipped sage leaves from my herb garden on top. These were the biggest sage leaves I have ever seen, I don’t know what Siobhan is feeding my pot of herbs but they’re multiplying like Gremlins. I tightly rolled the breasts, crispy skin, and sage up into a tube and secured them with some butchers twine.

 Two ingredients, duck and sage, were set aside and ready to fire, but first I had to make my sauce. Veal Saltimbocca alla Romana is traditionally served with Marsala wine or a lemon caper sauce but since I was using a duck breast, I needed to adjust the flavors a bit. Duck tends to be slightly gamey and of course fatty, hence the amazing layer that protects the breast, so sweeter sauces usually compliment it nicely.

 I chose to make a blueberry compote, which is incredibly simple to do. A compote is a 17th century English dessert that was transformed into a sauce by the French. It is essentially a pot of fresh fruit, sugar, and water that is slowly simmered until it reaches a jam-like consistency. This is exactly how I make homemade cranberry sauce on Thanksgiving. I just tossed some fresh blueberries into a sauce pan, covered it in water, and then dumped about a cup of sugar in to top it off.

After about 30 minutes of bubbling, the sugar and water turns into a thick simple syrup and the fresh blueberries pop and start gurgling. It thickens right before your eyes and is not only great with game birds, but vanilla ice cream and toast as well. I finished searing the Saltimbocca in a pan of butter along with the legs that I braised in their own juices for about two hours. The succulent leg meat was falling off the bone and dripping with savory duck fat.

I made sure the center of the roulade was still pink and medium rare because if you overcook duck it gets extremely tough. It seems strange applying temperatures to birds because we’re so used to chicken and salmonella poisoning, but duck can be and should be served medium rare. Not only does it taste better, it is easier to chew. I plated the roulade with a massive blob of the antioxidant-rich, sweetened blueberry compote. The combination of sweet and savory was heavenly.

I popped a bottle of the brand new Lot 20 Reserve Label Pinot Noir from my friends at 90+ Cellars. If you’re not familiar with the company, you’re missing out. Value…value…value is the key word here. 90+ Cellars cold calls distinguished wineries with prestigious reviews and asks if they have any leftover wine. Due to the current economic state, certain wineries have an extra thousand cases of a certain vintage that Restaurant X usually buys, but couldn’t afford it this season. The two parties strike a deal, 90+ Cellars slaps their label on the wine along with a specific lot number, and delivers the savings right on to the consumer. The only catch is, once a certain lot is gone…. it’s gone forever.

I have been waiting in anticipation for Lot 20 to be released, and it’s finally here! Knowing that the actual value of the juice is around $45.00 retail, this bottle for under twenty is going to sell like hot cakes. I opened the wine with my duck Saltimbocca and let me tell you… this baby lived up to the hype. The winemaker has spent the last forty years making Pinot in California so he is no rookie. The Sonoma County fruit is hand picked and aged in oak to give it some extra body and structure. On the nose, the wine gives off aromas of fresh strawberries and cranberries.

On the palate, the wine is velvety and elegant with loads of bing cherry and sexy cinnamon. The finish never ends with smooth tannins and hints of vanilla. This wine is a tease… it starts up voluptuous, sultry, and erotic, but then finishes classy and structured. I couldn’t have met a better match for my duck breast with blueberry compote. The Saltimbocca was jumping in my mouth and the wine made me want to start jumping on the table in excitement.