As Jules Winnfield said in Pulp Fiction, “I just don’t dig on swine.” It’s not because, as Jules insists, I believe pigs are filthy animals. Rather, it’s because I think they’re beautiful animals who suffer horribly when they are raised for food in factory farm settings. I don’t eat factory-farmed anything anymore if I can avoid it, except my chicken breakfast sausage (and that is going to go soon, too) and my guilty-pleasure snack of ease — mini Babybel cheeses. Having said that, I do still eat chicken and duck (and once a year, so that Curt doesn’t divorce me, we order some fine, humanely raised swine from Flying Pigs Farms). This is only because I am fortunate enough to live near a longstanding family farm that has the most delicious organic chicken, duck, and turkey, all of which keeps me quite sane and content. I realize that there is still cruelty involved in eating anything that has to, let’s face it, die for your dinner, but I take comfort in the fact that they come from a local farm, live what I believe to be cage-free, content lives, and that I have probably saved hundreds of cows and pigs from being eaten since making this change.
The trouble with giving up pork products, more than anything, is that you definitely give up a lot of flavor. Pigs, unfortunately for them, are terribly tasty. This is where duck has come in for the culinary save. To me, duck tastes like the lovechild of a chicken and a pig. Duck breasts (and not those preternaturally humongous ones that you get from D’Artagnan — EWWW!) have become a weekly staple at our house, particularly because they are so simple to prepare but they deliver in spades when it comes to taste. Okay, so we have one ducky dinner covered, but the thing you may miss most when you eschew beef and pork is charcuterie, those wonderfully cured, salted meats that are just made to be enjoyed with a big, fat red wine. Inspired by a friend and Michael Ruhlman’s Charcuterie, we are curing our own duck prosciutto. It’s so simple, even a caveman could make it. Seriously, who do you think invented charcuterie anyway? If you guessed a knuckle-dragger who had an all-too-successful hunt, you’re probably close. Duck prosciutto is really just salt, white pepper, and time. And, not even that much time. Eight to 10 days is all it takes.
We followed his instructions to separate the breasts, rinse them well, and pat dry. Then, we nestled them in a Pyrex and covered the breasts with kosher salt for 24 hours. The transformation in that day was quite remarkable, as the breasts became super taut and turned a deep red. We then rinsed and patted them dry again, and seasoned each with some freshly ground white pepper. Each received a cheesecloth sweater of sorts and has been hung in a cool, humid place (in an open wine box in Curt’s cellar shop) for a week or so, and voila! You haz duck prosciutto. Or we will haz it.
It’s due out just in time for the weekend, at which time I’ll report back. Have you made your own duck prosciutto?
