After months of anticipation, Kirios and I finally celebrated our second semiversary. (aka we’ve been together for a year and a half) The eighteen month mark was actually last Tuesday, but for many months we’ve discussed roasting a kosher duckling and cooking a feast to mark the occasion.

Cooking duck has become a somewhat sacred ritual in my family. For many many years we’ve cooked a peking duck feast with our family friends in Pittsburgh. Other than our two families, the only way to be invited to this oft-spoke of feast is to marry in. Since “the children” are now grown up (my friend from the other family now has 3 kids of her own!), it has been more difficult to gather each year for this meal. Since Kirios won’t be earning an invitation just yet anyway, we decided that cooking a (non-peking) duck together would be a wonderful treat to celebrate.

The 3.75 lb. duck was purchased from Shalom’s Kosher Mart in Silver Spring a week before our trip to Wisconsin. At $7.99/lb. I was glad to use a $20 for $10 Groupon I purchased months ago. On Thursday morning, I moved the duck from my freezer to my fridge to begin the thawing process. Friday morning I scoured the aisles of the Bethesda Row Giant gathering the rest of the groceries needed to prepare our feast. And Friday afternoon I unwrapped our baby bird, rinsed her off, and spent an hour plucking feathers to clean her up. (the kosher butchers never de-pluck poultry well!) She spent all night uncovered in the fridge, drying out so her skin would crisp in the oven. I rotated the duck every few hours (while I was awake) to make sure both sides aired out.

I was very relieved to be feeling better after my never-ending head cold; however Kirios, who had been feeling better for a few days before me, took a turn for the worse. This meant another antisocial weekend for us, staying indoors and watching multiple movies. But the duck was defrosting, so the meal must go on!

After much deliberation, we decided to make duck à l’orange, a classic French recipe. Kirios picked out a couple of recipes for the dish online, and I decided to combine them with the prep and roasting techniques we use for our peking ducks. So Saturday at 11:30 I brought to boil a stock pot full of water with a quarter cup or so of honey to boil. I dipped the duck into it, making sure the whole bird was immersed, and then removed it from the water. This helps break down the fat under the skin, and is one of a few techniques used for making the bird less greasy. (Some people prefer to slit the skin so it drips out while roasting… but I followed my Mom’s recommendation.) I patted the duck dry with paper towels, and set her to dry out in the fridge for another 4 hours, rotating it every hour.

By 3:30, Kirios had arrived, and I preheated the oven. Since Kirios was under the weather, he tried to maintain involvement in the cooking process from a distance. Since he loves to take pictures, he was more than happy to watch from the other side of his camera lens. I rubbed crushed black pepper, cumin, and coriander on the outside and inside of the duck. I then placed sprigs of fresh thyme and marjoram into the cavity, along with wedges of half a small onion and half an orange. The duck cooked like this for just over two hours, lowering and raising the oven temperature, and with Kirios occasionally flipping the bird over from its back to its breast.

While the duck roasted in the oven, we began preparing the orange sauce. For this we made syrup out of sugar, freshly squeezed orange juice, red wine vinegar, Cointreau (previously unopened, but purchased for my father’s bar mitzvah 40+ years ago) and orange zest. We combined the syrup with the duck drippings (and a bit of chicken stock to get the right volume) and a tablespoon of flour to thicken it up.

Kirios carved the duck, and before we knew it, we were enjoying our much anticipated feast. The duck was well cooked, and the sweet orange sauce complemented the rich duck flavor really well. While we both enjoyed the meal a lot, I think Kirios also enjoyed watching me eat. I was just so happy to be eating one of my absolute favorite things, and I was very proud to have successfully made the duck on my own.

I should also mention that I spent the rest of my morning and afternoon preparing side dishes. Along with the duck, we had a fresh salad, cauliflower sautéed in olive oil with garlic and breadcrumbs, and couscous with pine nuts. These were all fine dishes, but they were unnecessary – we were there for the headliner! And then there was a pumpkin pie for dessert. My mother convinced me to wait a while after dinner, allowing ourselves time to digest, and to make a dairy pie instead of a parve one. In the end, Kirios and I had small slices of pie as a snack while the duck was roasting, and I was way to full to think about dessert after dinner. Kirios has a second small piece of pie later in the night. Like the sides, the homemade pie was lovely to have, but for me, it was still all about the duck.

Now all of this blogging is making me hungry – leftovers for dinner tonight! 🙂

Anyone who grew up with me knows that the centerpiece of my typical brown bag lunch throughout school consisted of a slice of 2% Kraft American Singles surrounded by two pieces of bread. My love for Kraft cheese product began when I was a toddler. After my half-day preschool program, my beloved babysitter would make me a warm gooey grilled cheese sandwich with the stuff for lunch, preceding nap time (which conveniently coincided with Oprah). When I was five my parents were house-hunting in preparation for our move to the Steel City, they came across a lovely four-bedroom house with a sunroom and garage on a safe residential block. Then they noticed it came with an extra-wide oven, with a large griddle smack in between the burners on the stove-top. Thinking of their young daughter’s excessive fondness for grilled cheese, they saw it as a sign – their search was over. This was our new home.

Most people didn’t know however, that when it came to real unprocessed cheese, I had a bit of a phobia. I didn’t grow up avoiding cheese all together, after all, what would pizza be without the cheese?!? (Well, that’s a whole different discussion actually, which I’ll save for another day.)  Other than Kraft Singles, (and it was always Kraft – the supermarket brand never tasted as good) I had my share of mozzarella, provolone, and parmigiano mixed in with pizza and pasta dishes, occasionally melted on a sandwich. I ate cheddar flavored goldfish, but would never consider biting into a chunk of it.

Fast forward to my first date with Kirios: We’re touring embassies during Passport DC’s EU Open House Day, and the Cypriot embassy is handing out samples of halloumi cheese. Kirios, whose father is Greek Cypriot, tells me halloumi is his absolute favorite. It’s a first date and I’m not ready to expose all of my crazy, so I swallow two pieces, squirming a bit on the inside, and tell him it’s nice. And it was nice –but I was too nervous and surprised to enjoy it — the main thing I remember was relief that I didn’t hate it, gag, and spit it out.

Months later, Kirios took me to Bistrot Lepic (http://www.bistrotlepic.com) in Georgetown for their complimentary Tuesday night wine tasting. Naturally, he wanted to order a cheese platter to enjoy with our wine. I resisted, and finally fessed up about my fear of cheeses. At that time, he confirmed what I had figured during our first date – if I had passed on tasting the halloumi, there wouldn’t have been a second date. Lucky for me, he was already pretty smitten by then!

In light of my confession, Kirios pushed harder to order the cheese platter. He gave me small pieces of each of the four cheeses the waiter presented us with. To my surprise and his delight, I liked two of them enough to have seconds and thirds. A couple months later, we went to Co Co Sala (http://cocosala.com) in Chinatown for Chef Tiptur’s 5-Course Dessert Experience. I was already intoxicated with chocolate by the time the fourth course, the cheese plate, came out. I was unimpressed with the blue cheese, and distinctively disliked the buttery brie. But I quite enjoyed the harder cheeses, and Kirios saw his window to lead me into the world of real cheeses.

I invited Kirios over to make homemade pizza, and he came bearing gifts – smoked gouda, asiago, halloumi, and something green – which turned out to be my favorite of the four. We grated them all, and the four-cheese pizza was a winner, but when Kirios left, I had what seemed like a lifetime supply of cheese waiting in my fridge. At first I saved it to be enjoyed with crackers and wine when I was with Kirios. But it wasn’t long until I was enjoying it on my own, as a pre-dinner snack after work. Then I sliced it on a bagel with vegetables and brought it to work for lunch. I even made grilled cheese with it, creating my own wonderfully gooey gourmet sandwich.

When that cheese ran out, Kirios took me to Trader Joe’s and together we picked out four more cheeses. I was nervous – there were so many choices, and I was scared, especially of the softer ones. We bought more gouda, fontina, something with truffle oil essence, and one soaked in Syrah. The truffle flavored cheese was a bit disappointing, the fontina was on the bland side, but I was certain of one thing – I was hooked on cheese.

When Living Social recently offered a $10 for $20 Whole Foods voucher, I knew I had to use it when my stash of cheeses inevitably ran out. And that’s exactly what I did today. I was hoping to find a time when Kirios could come with me – picking out cheeses is still a bit scary. I walk a fine line in my quest to expand my pallet and try new things without moving too far out of my comfort zone, and Whole Foods’ selection is much more robust than the regular supermarket. But I was also anxious to replenish my cheese supply, having already gone a few days without my new dietary staple. So this afternoon, on my way home from the doctor, I stopped in at the Whole Foods in Friendship Heights. I picked up some Robusto, a nutty Dutch gouda-type cheese; extremely hard Piave; Aged Reserve Mahon – also pretty hard; Cacio de Roma, a slightly softer almost sweet sheep’s milk cheese; and some Rustico Red Pepper, not too hard ad excitingly spicy. Kirios was proud of me for choosing, but did make me promise to try cheeses next time that don’t “thud” when he drops them on the table. Regardless, with a glass of red wine, my five new cheeses, and some tasty crackers, we were both pleased this evening.