Duck! (And Proud of It!)

The title of this piece, Duck! And Proud of It! comes from the ill-fated Howard the Duck  movie which, quite frankly, I thought was funny at the time and would like see again sober and with the vantage of my 20+ years.

This is a shot which I am putting up to deliberately humiliate the asshole who, on my last trip to the US, claimed he had made Peking Duck for dinner for himself, the wife,  and the two kids. "Oh, it was hard," he said, "I spent hours in the kitchen, and used a ton of ingredients. But it was delicious."

I'm terribly fond of Peking Duck and eat it as often as my missing gall bladder allows. However, it is a tricky dish to "fill up on" and I can't imagine any child willing to sit and roll slivers of duck meat and duck skin into crepes when they could just as easily have French Fries. It is the grace note to a meal, not a hot dish like Tamale Pie which can BE the entire meal. "Really," I said, warming up to the task of goading a jerk, while my mother shot me warning glances that resembled not so much disapproval as trans-ischemic attacks, "You didn't have a problem with the plum sauce?"

Final step in three-day process

"Nope," he said confidently. "It was tricky, but I did it."

"What about the part with the pancakes?" I asked innocently. 

"Waffles," he replied hesitantly. "Like chicken and waffles."

"Wow! How did you get it to roast over a fruitwood fire? I don't recall that you have a fireplace,"  I asked.

He replied, "Any more coffee in the pot?" and headed off to the kitchen.