Thanksgiving Edition - Peking Duck

This Thanksgiving was the first C and I have ever spent away from our families. I took this opportunity to challenge myself and cook an entire Thanksgiving meal. For the main dish, I wanted to do something different—something that was traditional, but with a nod to my Asian heritage. After a lot of thought, I decided to make an at home version of a Peking duck. Traditional Peking duck is very labor intensive, and takes at least 3 days to prepare. It involves hanging a duck to dry for a day, then blowing air into the duck to separate the skin from the meat (this is done usually by mouth), scalding the duck with boiling water to tighten the skin, hanging to dry for another day, and careful roasting in a stone oven with various exotic woods from trees I’m sure aren’t found in North America. After some careful research, I thought up a way to recreate the traditional method without all the fuss. Of course, the process does take some time, maybe 3 hours start to finish, but at least it doesn’t take days!

Ingredients:

5 lb. Whole Duck

Soy Sauce

2 Oranges

1 Bulb of Garlic

Chili Powder

Garlic Powder

Ginger Powder

Paprika Powder

Cumin

Salt

Pepper

Sugar

Performance:

I began by absolutely freaking out. When I unwrapped my duck, I found it was almost completely covered in tiny pinfeathers. Pinfeathers and I had never crossed paths until Thanksgiving morning, 4 hours before our guest would arrive. After some frantic phone calls and desperate Googling, I found I had essentially no choice but to carefully pluck out as many of the pinfeathers as possible and then rely on the oven to burn away the bits sticking out and soften the rest remaining under the skin. C and I took turns plucking pinfeathers out of the duck with my Revlon tweezers for about 30 minutes. This would have been humorous if I weren’t level 10 stressed out about the situation. After this, I very carefully pricked and slightly lifted the duck skin with a fork, to simulate the whole blowing-in-the-duck process to separate the skin from the fat—because quite frankly, hell would freeze over before I would blow into Mr. Quack Quack. I then brought a large pot of water to a boil with about a cup of sugar and a cup of salt stirred in. I lowered the duck into the water and turned off the burner. I left the duck in his little bath for about 5 minutes until his skin turned a light tan color. When I brought the duck out of the water, the skin had tightened around the body; this step apparently is what gives it a crispy skin. After the duck had cooled down enough to touch, I donned some nitrile gloves, cut an orange into quarters, and stuffed it in the cavity. I also cut the top off a large bulb of garlic and stuffed that into the duck as well. I then placed the duck onto a roasting rack pan, cut another orange into quarters and had C squeeze the juice all over the duck while I rubbed the skin. I then had C pour a cup of soy sauce over the duck, and I rubbed that into the skin as well. C sprinkled chili powder, garlic powder, ginger powder, paprika powder, cumin, salt, and pepper on the duck and I evenly dispersed the spices on the skin. I added about 2 cups of water to the bottom of the roasting pan so the water would steam up and keep the duck moist. I tossed out my gloves, donned some oven mitts, and placed Mr. Quack Quack into a 425 degree oven for 15 minutes. After that, I lowered the heat to 350 degrees and roasted the duck for 45 minutes. I then flipped the duck, basted with the juices from the bottom of the pan, and roasted for 35 minutes. After this time, I flipped the duck again, basted, and roasted for 15 more minutes. Once the time was up, I removed the duck from the oven, and checked the temperature; it registered at 175 degrees, which is the ideal internal temperature. When our friend arrived, he came bearing brandy, which I of course sipped on in a ladylike glass and poured about half a shot glass over the steaming bird.

When we sat down to the table, I was still a little bit nervous about the pinfeathers. The duck smelled heavenly, and I silently hoped my efforts had brought me success. To my delight and surprise, all the leftover pinfeathers had burned off and disappeared into the duck skin, and we were left with a perfect roasted duck that reminded me of my Grandma Trina’s Peking duck. It was pretty amazing, if I do say so myself. The skin was crispy and flavorful and the meat was juicy. C and our friend agreed.

*Bonus: To make a gravy, simply tip the juices collected at the bottom of your roasting pan to a small saucepan. Add about 2 tablespoons of cream (add more of you like a creamier gravy) and about a teaspoon of flour. Stir on low heat until velvety, and pour over your duck. It’s practically sinful over mashed potatoes as well.