Here's the funny thing, though: my mom knows I'm not spontaneous (and, in fact, neither is she – sometimes, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree...), and she carefully gave me a couple of weeks to turn the idea over in my mind and try it on for size. Once we figured out when the stop might fit into the trip, and how accessible Carcassonne was by train, and how inaccessible other cities might be by train (I'm looking at you, Limoges and Quimper), I decided perhaps my plans just might be mutable after all. We did make it to Carcassonne, where I did, indeed, eat me some cassoulet. And though the city of Carcassonne may have left some things to be desired – decent weather, and functioning laundromats, for example – the cassoulet did not disappoint.
Cassoulet is kind of like chili in the southwest US: it has beans, it has meat, every village (and, for that matter, every mother) has their own variation, and every cook believes her version is the real one. More specifically, cassoulet always contains white beans, and nearly always has goose confit – that is, goose preserved via low, slow cooking in its own fat. From there, the variations of meats used range from pork loin to pork shoulder to mutton to lamb to garlic sausages. Everything is cooked on its own, and then the whole mess is poured together in a large earthenware pot (called a cassole – that's where the name cassoulet comes from), where it cooks in a low oven for another three hours.
When my cassoulet, still bubbling from the oven, was served to me one hot evening last August, I appreciated the depth of the flavor, slowly melded together over hours of cooking, and I enjoyed the fork-shreddingly tender texture of the meats, but the warm weather prevented me from truly enjoying the dish. I might have been happier with a salad or a cold gazpacho, but I was only in Carcassonne for two nights, and I couldn't very well skip over the dish that was so omnipresent in the region, the dish that had been such a deciding factor in coming to visit Carcassonne, just because of a little heat. So I sweated and sipped my water and scarfed down as much cassoulet as I could. There was something great there – but for another season.
This winter, I knew I wanted to make my own cassoulet. But with so many recipes, where to start? And then for the ingredients: when's the last time you saw goose confit for sale on this side of the Atlantic? Or even goose legs and fat, to make your own, other than maybe right around Christmas? Cassoulet is typically made with a fresh pork sausage from Toulouse, creatively called saucisse de Toulouse – where was I going to find that? The beans are supposed to cook in a stock flavored with pork belly rind, which sounds like something of a hassle to acquire and handle. And unfortunately, I don't own a cassole.
Clearly, some adjustments had to be made. Slightly-more-available duck confit was subsituted for traditional goose. Local fresh pork sausage makes a flavorful replacement for the traditional Toulousain stuff. And good quality bacon will just have to suffice in place of pork rind. While this may not qualify for any Languedocienne's authentic cassoulet, I think it's pretty damn good.
Cassoulet d'Ann Arbor
Most recipes for cassoulet call for more kinds of meat than I list here. The first time I made it, I included some pork shoulder, but I didn't feel it really added anything to the dish. The sausage, on the other hand, which I picked up freshly made from Sparrow Meats, was fantastic, so go ahead and splurge a little there. After all, this is a good winter dish, and we're supposed to be eating lots of fatty foods to help keep the cold out, right?
This is not a quick meal – it takes somewhere in the neighborhood of six hours, start to finish, not counting the time that the beans spend soaking overnight. But the slow process of multiple cookings allows for some incredible flavor development. Plus, it means that your house will smell incredible all day. Also, the many steps involved make me feel like I have a plan, so I know I won't have to make any spontaneous dinner decisions. In my book, that is always a relief.
1 ½ pounds dry white beans, picked over and rinsed
2 legs of duck confit, or 2 fresh duck legs and 2 cups duck fat
1 ham hock
1/4 pound good quality bacon, diced into 1/4-inch strips, width-wise
2 carrots, diced
2 stalks celery, diced
1 onion, peeled and quartered
3 cloves garlic: 2 cloves minced, plus 1 more clove peeled and cut in half
5 whole cloves
10 peppercorns
3 bay leaves
herbs as you please (I used a teaspoon or two of dried herbes de Provence, but a bouquet garni or whatever you've got on hand would be fine)
2-3 links (about 1 pound) good quality fresh pork sausage
The night before you want to eat the cassoulet, set the beans to soak in water overnight.
If you cannot find duck confit (it's available online here), or you prefer to make your own, I recommend this recipe. Note that this, too, will take some preparation a day in advance: I tried making some without salting the day before, the the taste just wasn't as rich and full as usual.
In the morning, dump out the bean water. Place the beans in a large pot and cover in fresh water. Set the pan over high heat and bring the beans to a boil. Once the water boils, cook for 5 minutes, then remove the pan from the heat and pour out the water. Set the beans aside.
In the mean time, prepare a stock: in a large soup pot, put the ham hock, diced bacon, carrots, celery, onion, two cloves minced garlic, cloves, peppercorns, bay leaves, and herbs. Cover all this with plenty of water: you want at least twice the volume of stock to beans (remember to account for the liquid that will evaporate as the stock simmers) – I used about 14 cups.
Set over high heat until the liquid comes to a boil, then reduce the heat to medium low and let simmer for an hour or so, until rich in color and flavor.
Strain the broth, reserving both the broth and all solid matter. Once cooled, toss out the ham hock, bay leaves, cloves, and peppercorns, but reserve the bacon, carrots, celery, onions, and any diced herbs.
Return the stock to the large soup pot, and add in the beans. Let the beans simmer for an hour and a half to two hours over medium low heat, until beginning to get soft, but not falling apart. After this time, strain the beans, again reserving the stock.
In the meantime, in a large frying pan, heat the duck confit over medium-low heat to melt the fat from the legs. The skin ought to be easy to detach, and most of the fat will be just beneath the skin, so you can go ahead and peel off the skin and just let that fry up until you've got a nice little mess of duck fat. Once all the fat has been rendered, remove the legs from the pan, but do not throw out the fat. When the duck legs are cool enough to handle, shred the meat with your fingers until you have nice, even, bite-size pieces; set aside.
Set the sausage links to cook in the frying pan with the duck fat. I recommend using a splatter guard, as the duck fat and the fat rendering from the sausages can make quite a mess. Cook, turning every few minutes to let every side of the sausage get browned, until the sausage is cooked through - about 10 minutes, depending on the thickness of the sausage. Remove the sausage from the pan and turn off the heat, but do not get rid of the fat. When the sausage is cool enough to be handled, cut it diagonally into 1/2-inch slices.
Once all of these components are ready, it's time to start thinking about baking. Preheat your oven to 300 degrees Fahrenheit. If you have a large, deep earthenware pot, this is your opportunity to use it. I don't; I used a couple of deep Pyrex dishes. One holds a volume of about 1 1/2 quarts, and the other about 2 quarts. Whatever dish you decide to use, it should be deep. Take the remaining clove of garlic and rub the inside of the dish with it.
Now we're getting to the fun part: the layering. Begin with the bacon and vegetables reserved from the stock:
Next, add in about half the beans, and all of the shredded duck meat.
Add in the rest of the beans and arrange the sausage on top. Finally, pour in enough stock to cover all of the beans, and drizzle the sausage and duck fat over the top. I never said this was diet food.
Let cook for 2-3 hours, until beautifully golden brown. Check the liquid level every half hour or so: if it is looking dry, pour in a little more stock. If you run out of stock, you can use water instead, or use water mixed with the grease stuck to the duck and sausage frying pan.
Serve hot and fresh from the oven with good crusty bread and a nice, tannic, Languedoc red wine.
Serves 6-8 as a heavy main course
1 comment:
Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.
:-)
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