Poached Moulard Duck Foie Gras au Torchon with Pickled Cherries

When we last spoke, I had just put the deveined foie in the fridge for a 24-hour marinating session. After it had marinated in the mixture of salts, pepper and sugar, I removed it from the refrigerator. Then, using a piece of parchment paper, I remolded it into more of a log-ish shape (I'm so technical with my cooking lingo) so that I could wrap it in cheesecloth for the next step:


I rolled the foie in the cheesecloth, tied both ends tightly and added more twine ties along the foie to help it hold its shape during poaching. The French Laundry Cookbook says you've wrapped it properly if some of the fat begins to ooze out of the cheesecloth. Guess I did it right after all:


While I was getting all this ready, I set a pot of chicken stock on the stove to simmer so that I could be ready to poach as soon as the foie was wrapped. Here's a shot of the foie being poached:


After poaching, it went into a lovely ice bath:


During this part of the process, the foie lost a little bit of volume (you should've seen the duck fat floating in the stockpot after I took it out), so I took it out of the ice bath and compressed it in a thin dish towel, wrapped it nice and tight and tied those ends even tighter:


Remember how I thought deveining was going to be tricky, but ended up loving it? Little did I know there was going to be some geometry and engineering and stuff in this final step. I had to find a way to HANG the foie in my refrigerator for the next 24 hours. Most of you know from previous photos on this blog, that my fridge is usually pretty organized and sparse, save for the ingredients I'm currently using. Still, trying to figure out which shelves to move and which ones to take out, and where was I going to put all the stuff on those shelves... I need a PhD or something. Nevertheless, I figured it out (I'll take that honorary doctorate now, thanks, all you fans from Harvard) and managed to hang this little sucker with relatively little fanfare:


That photo looks a little depressing doesn't it? The foie is listing to one side. There's a single light in the back corner. He's in an embarassing stripey dishtowel. It almost feels like a John Turturro scene in a Coen Brothers film. How sad. Sorry, foie.

I made the pickled cherries next, and this was a breeze, mostly because I decided after all that deveining, wrapping, poaching, rewrapping and hanging of the foie, I was going to opt out of pitting the cherries. The FL Cookbook didn't say I HAD to remove the pits. I swear. It said, "if you prefer your cherries pitted..." and then went on to offer a technique. But I DO NOT prefer my cherries pitted. Nosirreeeee.... I love them with the pits in. Yes I do. Because, let's face it, sometimes I am just lazy. I knew my parents wouldn't care one way or the other, so it was an easy decision to make. Even though I just labored on and on about it in this post. Sheesh. Are you even still reading? Wow, you are? Cool. So, here are the cherries before:


I put them in a saucepan with red wine vinegar, water and sugar:


I brought it up to a simmer, then cut the heat and let the cherries sit in the pickling brine until they had cooled to room temperature.

Right before plating, I made some brioche croutons out of brioche I bought at Balducci's. I also tossed a little baby arugula and mint with a touch of olive oil and topped each portion with some gray salt and white pepper. Last, but certainly not least, I removed the foie gras from all its wrappings, removed the gray, oxidized portion of the foie and cut it into three-quarter inch slices.

Here's the final plating:


My dad was very skeptical of this dish from the outset. Not to say that he's not culinarily adventurous, because he's really not that picky an eater. We each took a bite of the foie on its own as our first bite. Dad's response: "Well, that's certainly interesting." Mom took the tiniest bite EVER and did that "mom thing" of "mmmmmmm" while trying not to vomit.

Then, we put a little foie, cherry and the arugula/mint salad on a corner of the brioche crouton and took a bite. Dad's response: "Wow!" Mom loved it, too, and we just loved the fact that when eaten together, every element popped out in its own way on the palate, but they also complemented on another beautifully. If you need a clear illustration or explanation as to why Thomas Keller is who he is, look no further than this dish. Sweet, savory, rich, light, delicious, elegant, country... all in one. It's really a spectacular dish.

The night before my parents came for this lunch, they went to a party in their neighborhood and met a couple who lived nearby. My mom overheard them at the other end of the table saying something about "Napa" something or other. Turns out, they recently went to The French Laundry and had THIS VERY DISH. They raved about their experience, and the husband said he loved the pickled cherries from this dish, so I sent the extra cherries I made home with my parents to give to their neighbors (whose names I don't know, so if you're reading - Hi, people in Marty and George's old house! Hope you liked the cherries!).

Up Next: "Soup and Sandwich" -- Grilled Farmhouse Cheddar, Early Girl Tomato Consommé, and Butter-Fried Chips

Brands Used:
Foie Gras from DiBruno Brothers; Philadelphia, PA
Cherries from Twin Springs Fruit Farm
Arugula from TPSS Co-op
Mint from my neighbor's garden (thanks, Linda!)
Brioche from Balducci's

Music to Cook By: I did this dish over three days, so my iPod was on shuffle most of the time. However, in honor of this dish's ingredients, here is a list of songs and artists on my iPod involving ducks and cherries. Enjoy!

"Disco Duck" -- Rick Dees
"Rubber Ducky" -- Ernie
"Play That Funky Music White Boy" -- Wild Cherry
"Buffalo Stance" -- Neneh Cherry
"Cherry Pie" -- Warrant
"Cherry Tree" -- 10,000 Maniacs
"Black Horse and the Cherry Tree" -- K.T. Tunstall
"Burning Up" -- Eagle Eye Cherry