Tartiflette à la Kate Hill

After a few days of seeing quite a lot of duck, we decided to do something a little different for dinner tonight: Kate's Gascon version of Tartiflette, with a pear tart for dessert.

Welcome everyone, to The French Kitchen with Kate Hill.

And we're off!

We started out with the pastry shell. Sandra said if she could go home knowing
how to make a perfect pastry she would be happy...

Mixing a 1:2 ration of butter and flour together and keeping the hands facing up, always up, Sandra is well on her way to perfection. This nifty measuring cup gives the grams based on what it is you are measuring- from flour, to sugar, to rice, and liquid.

For the pie makers out there, we know that rolling out the dough and getting it safely into the pan in one piece is never easy. Rolling it up onto the rolling pin this way helps immensely.

Mmmm, and there is nothing better than juicy pears, fresh from the
local market we went to earlier today.

Participating in the cooking and note-taking are both
essential parts of getting the process down.

Someone is happy with her pie shell. And the tart was superb.

Now, on to the tartiflette we march.

...but first, a little knife-handling session.

The tartiflette originated in the Savoie region, which encompasses southeastern France but is no longer a technical region of France. It is reminiscent of potatoes au gratin, and is usually made with potatoes, cream, ham and a whole round of Reblochon cheese cut and melted on the top.

Kate's Gascon version is much more lively and
colorful thanks to the wonderful sweet potatoes.

And who knew that making homemade crackers could be so easy? Not I. We used extra pizza dough, rolled it out, put an egg wash and some seeds on top and voila!

Every night of great cooking deserves a candlelight dinner chez Kate.
And a night of good, long sleep follows shortly after.
Bon Appétit friends

Grattons de Canard

Back in the kitchen, it is time to begin one of the
many duck wonders Kate has planned for us. It starts simple.

One would never guess that duck and popcorn have anything to do with each other...
but upon closer examination we find a popcorn delicacy: Grattons(pronounced, grat-ohn)

Grattons has a very short and simple ingredient list- duck skin and oil.
O.K. fine, so you sprinkle salt and pepper on afterward too, but that's IT.

The skin needs to be cut into cubes, which eventually form popcorn-like shapes.

Having a team of two works great, one person on the
boiling pot of oil and skin and the other on the fry-pan.

The cubes of skin boil in the oil for a few minutes, are then transferred to a pan to get crispy,
and finally dumped in a serving bowl and tossed with a little salt and pepper.

Sounds a little weird right? But in the end,
it's an addictive snack-food like any chip, cookie, or candy.
A real crunchy delight

Carving the Duck

Now, what happens to the ducks once they are whisked
away from the Marché au Gras madness and into the kitchen?

They become meals and dishes of various kinds, textures, qualities-
a main course, a pâte, a spread, you name it. But first, before we make anything,
we have to learn the correct way to cut a duck.

Our gracious instructor Kate, giving the duck some good lovin'.
It is always a good idea to do this, soften it up a bit, before you start hacking away.

Back in Kate's Kitchen-at-Camont, we prepare ourselves for a down and dirty anatomy lesson...

All of the body parts are still here, so we have to take out what is uneatable.
The first to go are the head and neck. At the base of the neck is the crop, a pouch where the ducks store food to eat later, so the kernels of corn are still very much in tact.

Contrary to popular belief about the evils of fois gras, the crop is where food gets stuffed
into the duck, not directly into the stomach.
So they have more food available to them, but they choose when they eat it.

With the neck and head finished, next comes the main cut down the back of the duck,
in hopes of finding the large, precious liver.

As seen from the rear of the duck...
this liver is an absolute beauty, both in color and size.
Slowly and carefully you peel the skin away from around the liver.

"Now, how do you get the damn thing out?" is the question on Sandra's mind.
A little bit more digging and there you are, just like that.

And how much does your liver weigh? Probably somewhere around the human average
of 2 kilos. This duck's liver was almost 1 kilo(almost 2 pounds)...
not bad for a bird not even close to 1/2 our size.

Now for the really fun part, you get to fish out the innards,
leaving the duck feeling... a bit empty inside.

There is already a nice cut down the back, which we made before.
Following that line, you puuuulll the first side off very carefully, using the knife to help
sever any tissue hanging on for dear life. Continue all the way down...

Voila! Well done! One whole side of the duck, cleanly separated from the body.
Now, cut each part out- leg, wing, and breast(magret)- from the skin.
And start in on side numéro deux.

The whole duck on the left turned into all the separate cuts on the right in a matter of minutes...well, not as fast as the chefs at the marché, but we got there eventually.

So, who thinks they can now dissect a duck all on their own? Anyone?
It's a little daunting at first, but the reward of eating it later is 100% worth the effort.
Cheers

Bérets and Birds- Gascony

It is high duck season here in Gascony. The buying is good, the selling competitive.
We drove over an hour away, to the small town of Gimont, to see the festivities of a Marché au Gras in live and living color. And damn was it spectacular.

From November to March, these gigantic marchés are held to sell ducks and geese.
Local vendors line their plucked ducks up on long white tables.
When the bell goes off at exactly 10:30AM, there is a mad rush to find the
best of the best ducks, geese and livers for making everything bird.

A very careful inspection is necessary to find any little flaw that
could possibly make or break a superb fois gras.

"Ça."
"That one. I'll take that one, s'il vous plaît."

It became immediately clear that purchasing duck is a serious matter.

Hanging ducks.

Want to have your ducks butchered here and not have to worry about it when you get home?
Well, you're in luck. Step right up and hand the birds over.
These fast, skillful butchers slice the birds into parts in about 2 minutes flat.

Another critical aspect of the marchés is the vet.
He gives the go-ahead that the vendors are selling legitimate meat.

The birds are piling up....
Not only are people like us there to buy just a duck or two, but people with restaurants to supply are buying by the cart-full. And they surely want their ducks chopped.

And how much do yooour birds weigh?

It some ways it seemed a morbid affair, walking in and out of aisles of birds,
their necks draped off the edges of the tables as if preparing for execution.

It is getting close to the end, and vendors with birds left are getting anxious.
The whole market only lasts about 1/2 an hour...so if you tend to be late to dates,
don't bother coming on this one. People get in and out and the supply vanishes.

Carts are necessary for those buying in bulk.
The French-size trucks are outside waiting to be stuffed to the brim with cold, naked birds.

It is common to have higher demand than supply, so all the birds will most likely be sold.
The stragglers will stay by and chat, but most people get what they want and head home, especially on such an unseasonably chilly day burrrrrrrrr.

Another Sunday market come and gone in the blink of an eye.
Bon appétit.

Frosty Morning @ Camont

Arriving to a new place at night is always mysterious and wonderful because you never

know exactly what to expect when you draw the curtains in the morning.

I woke up on my first morning at Camont to quite a lovely surprise.
The Garonne Canal runs right past Kate's property, parallel to the Garonne River close by.
Since this patch of the canal runs east-west, the sun rises at one end and sets at the other.

And this particular morning, while a subtle sun was rising to the east...

...a very full and tired moon was setting to the west.

Camont is situated right outside of the well-populated city of Agen in the southwest of France, directly between Bordeaux and Toulouse. This area is the most agriculturally diverse region of France, with fields of apples, kiwis, fava beans and grapes stretching on forever.

The farmland for miles and miles was covered in a delicate frost.
And there wasn't a sound to be heard besides my crunching footsteps on the solid earth.

From the wood pile, to the herbs...

...and even the new buds on the trees, the little crystals shone in the morning light.

I have grown to love the morning walks around the property
with Kate's horse, I mean dog, Bacon, whose favorite activity is chomping on the
old, smelly compost meant for the chickens.

Spring usually comes early in this area, so thought the duck.
He was clearly perplexed by his unusually frozen pond.

Frozen crab apples hang on for dear life by their chilled, stiff stems.

Henri, the graceful male head of the chicken coup, watches protectively over his brood while
they feast on a corn, barley and wheat mixture.

Glimmering and shimmering, the sun climbs over the distant rolling hills.

Slowly but surely the rays warm up the yard, and everything is peaceful.

The house dates from the mid 1700's, with a pigeonnier, a piggery, the barn and the extremely minimal living quarters all attached. It has a very cozy feel.

What a perfect welcome to a new home.