DUCK FAT OVEN FRIES

While in Chinatown on Tuesday, I picked up a whole roast duck to serve as reheated meal components for a few days. (I can get three days worth out of one duck.) Though most of the rendered fat from the duck is drained before it gets cut into sections and packed up to take home, a duck is still a very fatty critter, so when its meat and skin are reheated, the remaining fat renders out and can be collected from the bottom of the reheating pan. I pour it off into a small vessel, seal it, and fridge it for future cooking use. When at room temperature, duck fat liquefies quickly, and it is VERY greasy, so pour carefully and fridge the stuff immediately.

One handy hack that duck fat is good for is perking up frozen fries. My go-to freezer fries of choice are Ore-Ida Extra Crispy Crinkles, for when my body craves something starchy that I won't have a problem keeping down. (When eaten around 11:30 last night, a plate of them saved the day after yesterday's three rounds of vomiting due to post-dialysis low blood pressure and light-headedness.) What I do is lay out the desired amount of crinkle cuts on a foil-lined baking pan, then I driz a bit of liquid duck fat over the potatoes (seen here before hitting the oven). It gives the fries a bit of a coating that responds well to the oven's heat once the fries are inside. Upon completion the fries will not only be as crispy as their marketing proclaims, they will be just as firmly crisp as fries fresh out of a proper deep-fryer, only minus the submersion in gallons of cooking grease. Once out of the oven, hit them with the customary pass of salt, and bon appetit! :)

THE ARCANE SIMPLICTY OF "EGGBURG"

 
After yesterday's post-dialysis illness and subsequent inability to keep down anything more substantial than some Popeyes biscuits, I awoke this morning in a ravenous state. My body craved protein, so I resorted to a dish that has been a staple since my childhood, and I now record its simple formula for posterity.

Toward the end of his time living with my mother and I, my dad began cooking meals for himself (my mother was fed up with his ass by that point) and in the process revealed a hitherto unseen cook who was quite innovative. One of his favorite go-to quickie meals was an unnamed scramble of browned ground beef and eggs seasoned with salt and pepper, and when I saw him make it for the first time, I asked for a taste. I loved it, and in no time it became the first meal I learned to cook for myself. It's a simple protein bomb that was especially helpful during my serial weekend hangovers in the '90's, but today it's a comfort dish that requires little effort and takes no time to prepare.

Brown the amount of ground beef that you want to eat, seasoning the meat with salt (to taste), then drop the skillet temperature down to low. 

 

Add 2-3 eggs and season with black pepper. 

 

Fold the eggs into the ground beef, cooking slowly until they reach the level of firmness that you prefer for your scrambled eggs. I find that it comes out more delicate and flavorful with a soft scramble, as there is no need to overcook the eggs because they continue to set from their own heat once plated. 

 

Usually served with buttered toast (which I opted against this morning), from start to finish this dish takes about seven minutes to make.

The origins of this scramble remain arcane and are probably lost to time, but going from what little my dad revealed about past, I'm guessing it was born out of necessity and affordability during his upbringing in rural segregated Mississippi. My parents' generation of southern Black folks were extremely close-mouthed about their families' dire histories, so even something as simple as a recipe may have had its roots in painful memories. All I can say is that I know he grew up poor, so his family likely got their protein any way they could. The times I asked my father for even the smallest details on his history, he would always avoid discussing any of it (with the exception of the entertainment that he enjoyed in his childhood), and when I asked about the name and origins of this meal he directed the conversation elsewhere, though he did attempt to humorously attribute its source to a rare (made-up) animal called the "eggburg," which even at the tender age of eight I knew was total bullshit, but I nonetheless deploy that ridiculous moniker whenever I am called upon to give a name for those I tell about it or whom I serve it to.

A plate of this was just what my stomach needed, and I can feel the protein boost working its way into my system. A solid comfort breakfast that also makes for an easy and convenient meal at any hour.