|Our first Christmas as a married couple!|
|The dango that guarded our front door|
(along with the angels).
Last Saturday evening, the beginning of the feast of the Epiphany, we decided to prepare the duck. Such a festive occasion necessitated the greatest solemnity, and I decided that the duck needed a name. Since I couldn't remember the name of the Christmas duck in Babe, I decided on the next best option: Ferdinand, the duck who acted like a rooster.
Jacob gave me another part of my Christmas present--a new roasting pan!--and we prepared for the 3 hour process of Ferdinand cooking into a luscious dinner.
|Ferdinand, prior to my slashing and hacking away (when you cook|
ducks, you're supposed to make slashes all over to let the fat drain out).
As we tried to pull out the bag of orange glaze (I still don't understand why the bags of glaze are always stuck inside the carcass, because they just freeze in there and are tough to get out!), we found that the neck was still frozen solid inside of the duck. Well, no way that was going to go. To my chagrin, we were going to cook Ferdinand with his neck intact.
For some reason, I became obsessed with the disgusting reality that the neck of our duck lay inside of his body, cooking with the rest of him. Perhaps it was due to the fact that I did not want to accidentally eat part of his neck? I'm not entirely sure. Regardless, with gusto I plunged into the activity of flipping over Ferdinand, poking his skin to let the fat out, and patiently waiting while he cooked.
Despite my enthusiastic attempts at cooking him to perfection, I was unable to pull out the neck, and I did not achieve the crispy skin that every recipe raved about. However, Jacob and I were still both pleased with our delicious Epiphany feast! Seriously, we were eating a duck. That's so awesome!
|Ready to eat! I'm donning my solemnity hat,|
because it was the Solemnity of the Epiphany,
so such a hat is only appropriate. And the
apron was a present from my family--they made
aprons for Jacob and I with matching potholders