No goose today, as noted earlier. Stay tuned!

The s.o. watched H.F.-W. poach an egg on DVD yesterday. This morning he marched into the kitchen and poached an egg for himself for the first time. Instant improvement to quality of life. Love it.

DAY 2
(See 12/19 to get up to speed, if you're just now joining the party.)

I am nursing an annoying, though un-dangerous, puncture wound from yesterday. When I was picking over the carcass of the goose, the palm of my left hand had an unexpected encounter with one of the bird's spiky wing-claw things. I had no idea there even was such a thing, but there it was, and it was just as painful as something you'd expect to find on an angry live goose. NB: Watch out for these in the future.

The first order of business today was to make the terrine. I shucked as much meat as I could from the neckbones, threw in the heart and gizzard, and then (because my goose was a small one and I knew I'd come up short) added a bit of meat from the wings, which are very rubbery and unlike other poultry wings I have known. I minced all of this with the gooey red raw liver I'd reserved, and then combined all of it with some good Italian sausage, herbs, spices, a little liquor, and some egg and bread crumbs.

I took a petite 1-qt. dish, which upon reflection was still a little large for my purposes, and lined it with bacon strips. Then I spread the minced meat mixture inside and baked the whole thing in a bain-marie for an hour and a half. When it was done, I brought it out and pressed it flat under a heavy canister of cornmeal.

Okay. The next thing to do was to roast a panful of chestnuts. This went easily except I lost a few to, er, attrition because they smelled so tasty when they came out of the oven.

When dinnertime was imminent, I simmered some Brussels sprouts until they were bright green. I fried two panfuls of meaty bacon until it was crisp. Then I whirled the sprouts with a little cream, butter, and salt in the food processor and spread the chunky puree on a plate. I topped it with minced roasted chestnuts and crumbled crispy bacon.

I peeled the bacon off the terrine (the bacon was just for flavoring and was given to the dogs), sliced it, and served it with big dollops of Major Grey's Chutney.

I was uneasy about this meal. It was a little fancy-fancy, a little Continental. But it went over big, just like last night's roast. The spicy, rich, iron-y taste of the terrine is perfect with the sweet zing of the chutney. And the sprouts...well, they are sprouts on a whole different level. Twice the s.o. has remarked how much he liked the meal, and I have to concur.

To gild the lily, we consumed the meal while watching a Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall video--my Christmas present from the s.o. There was a brief uncomfortable moment when someone castrated a calf onscreen and the s.o. looked a little green at the gills. But we both agreed the show is even better than we expected. We know so many people who need to see it!

I notice I have switched back into past tense in my description of the day's activities. Eh. So edit me.

To be continued...

I have promised Rozanne that I will blog about my adventure with Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall's set of three Christmas dishes from one goose. H.F.-W. serves all of the dishes at once, in a massive holiday blowout, but I have chosen to divide it into three meals, as such:

Day 1
ROASTED GOOSE BREAST
ROASTED WINTER VEGETABLES
APPLESAUCE
WINE GRAVY

Day 2
GOOSE GIBLET TERRINE
CREAMED BRUSSELS SPROUTS WITH BACON

Day 3
CONFIT OF GOOSE LEGS
PEPPERY SPLIT PEA PUREE

Day 3 will actually occur on Day 4 in real time, because on Day 3 the s.o. and I will be at a going-away party for a friend. The party will involve an obscene amount of food in its own right, so I really have no business making anything goosey on that day.

I should mention that this is my first goose ever. Until today, I never sampled goose, although I had it in my head that it would be a lot like ostrich--a beef taste with a poultry texture. It turns out that is as good a description of goose as you are likely to get. It is fabulous.

I am not going to reproduce H.F.-W.'s recipes here. My feeling is that if you are interested in Goosapalooza on this level, you should adjourn immediately to the nearest Amazon page and buy his River Cottage Year cookbook, where it is published.

Without further ado:

DAY 1

I prod the Schiltz All-American Holiday Goose with my pointer finger. It has been in the fridge for three days and is fully thawed. I pull it out, place it on a cutting board, and shuck off the netting and wrapper.

I reach inside and pull out a bag of giblets and a neck. The neck is without its skin, which means I will be making H.F.-W.'s "Giblet-Stuffed Neck of Goose" in the alternate terrine form. Good to know, good to know. I wrap the liver in plastic wrap and put it in the fridge for later. Everything else goes in a pot with some stock vegetables. I add cold water to cover and place it on the back burner to simmer for a couple of hours.

I designate a large loaf pan as a Fat Repository and start pulling giant clumps of loose fat from the goose's cavity (I will need the fat for the confit three days from now). I also throw in some extremely fatty pieces of loose skin from the neck and tail regions. Then I bring out the poultry shears and start oh-so-carefully cutting through the skin and connective tissue that holds the legs against the body. I get all the way down to the thigh joints, crack them, and remove the leg-thigh pieces to a waiting Rubbermaid container. At this point I discover more clumps of fat underneath the wings (apparently geese have chubby armpits) and remove them to the loaf pan.

I preheat the oven to 350 degrees and pop the loaf pan in for half an hour to render the fat.

Meanwhile, I combine coarse salt with some herbs, spices and garlic and rub the mixture into the goose legs. I seal the container and stow it in the fridge to marinate for the next 48 hours.

Now I have a goose breast with wings attached. The cavity is hanging open, very much unlike H.F.-W.'s goose in the photo, so I ransack the house for some cooking twine. No luck. I find some strips of muslin and bind the goose so it isn't so exposed.

The fat has rendered. I remove the pan, strain out the cracklings, and set it aside. Then I crank up the heat to 425 degrees. I splash some olive oil in an oval ceramic dish and set it in the oven to get hot, then start cutting vegetables: potatoes, fennel, carrots, parsnips. I throw the potatoes into the hot oil and slide the pan into the oven on the bottom rack.

The goose, in its roasting pan, goes on the top rack. I set a timer for 40 minutes.

After five minutes, I throw in the fennel. After ten, I add the carrots and parsnips and toss everything in the oil. H.F.-W. is a little anal-retentive about individual roasting times, but it's probably worth it.

At this point I panic and remember that I am supposed to be making applesauce. I peel and slice some Granny Smiths (apologies to any British people who may be reading this, but we don't have Bramleys in the U.S.) and throw them in a pan with a little water, butter, sugar, and cinnamon. I turn it on pretty high and start stirring and breaking up the slices, trying to hurry up the process.

This, it turns out, is not necessary, because after 40 minutes the vegetables are done but the goose breast isn't. I have plenty of time to finish the applesauce before a thermometer inserted in the meat reads 170. Perfect! Still a little bloody at the bone. I let the goose rest for 10 minutes while I make a wine gravy out of a couple of ladlefuls of stock, a splash of merlot, a squirt of fat from the pan, some flour, and a little seasoning.

The meal is incredible. Whatever British person decided, back in the mists of time, that applesauce and wine gravy go well with goose was absolutely correct. It's so decadent!

After dinner I pick the remaining meat from the carcass and am a little taken aback by how much connective tissue geese have. Like, noticeably more than a turkey or a duck. They are put together well! Odd, but then again, this is an animal I have never encountered before...

THAI TOFU AND NOODLES
(serves 2)

14 oz. extra-firm tofu, drained and patted dry
oil for deep-frying
1/2 to 1 small hot chile pepper, minced
4 Tbs. soy sauce
2 Tbs. fresh lime juice
2 Tbs. fish sauce
3 Tbs. light brown sugar
1 tsp. peanut oil
1 medium carrot, cut into matchsticks
1/2 green bell pepper, cut into matchsticks
two "nests" of dried Asian wheat and potato starch noodles

Cut the tofu into 3/4-inch cubes. Fry it in two batches in the hot oil and place it on paper towels to drain.
Meanwhile, put a pot of hot water on to boil for the noodles.
Combine the chile pepper, soy sauce, lime juice, fish sauce, and brown sugar in a salad-dressing cruet and shake vigorously. Set aside.
Heat a wok or frying pan and add 1 tsp. peanut oil. Stir-fry the carrot and green pepper quickly until crisp-tender. Remove to a plate, add the tofu, and keep warm under foil.
Plunge the noodles into boiling water and cook until al dente. Drain.
Place half the noodles on each serving plate, then top with tofu-vegetable mixture. Serve with generous amounts of soy sauce dressing.

GREEK LAMBURGERS
1 lb. ground lamb
1 Tbs. olive oil
1 tsp. dried crumbled oregano
juice of half a lemon
finely grated peel of half a lemon
2 large cloves of garlic, minced
salt and freshly-ground black pepper to taste
whole-wheat pita bread halves, toasted
yogurt sauce (below)
lettuce, tomato, and onion, sliced

Combine the lamb, olive oil, oregano, lemon, lemon peel, garlic, salt, and pepper in a large bowl. Mix the ingredients thoroughly with your hands, then form into four large, flattish patties. Place the patties on a greased broiler pan and broil for a few minutes on each side, until browned.
Serve in warm pita halves with yogurt sauce, lettuce, tomato, and onion.


YOGURT SAUCE
3/4 c. lowfat plain yogurt
1/4 tsp. dried crumbled mint leaves, or 1 tsp chopped fresh mint
a squeeze of lemon juice
a dash of salt
several grinds of black pepper
1/4 c. diced seeded cucumber (optional)

Combine the ingredients in a bowl and chill 1/2 hour to allow flavors to blend.

I know I'll make this again. Incredibly easy and great results. I found the original recipe on the internet and adapted it as follows. No measurements are given because I didn't measure anything.

"CHINESE" ROAST CHICKEN WITH GRAVY
a 3 1/2- to 4-lb chicken, giblets removed
vegetable oil for the roasting pan
soy sauce
sesame oil
defatted chicken stock
cornstarch

Bring the chicken to room temperature. Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F.
Blot the chicken dry, inside and out, with paper towels. Lightly oil a roasting pan or 11-by-13 rectangular pan and place the chicken in it.
With your fingers, gently loosen the skin from the chicken wherever you can without tearing it. Pour soy sauce inside the skin, rub it in, and then rub soy sauce everywhere on the outside of the skin, too. Roast the chicken, uncovered, for 35 minutes.
Reduce the heat to 350 degrees F and continue roasting the chicken for about 1 hour, or until a meat thermometer reads 180 degrees F in the deepest part of the breast. Before the last 10 minutes of roasting, brush the chicken skin with sesame oil.
Remove the roasted chicken to a plate. Place the pan on a stovetop burner over medium heat and deglaze it with some chicken stock. Then whisk in some sifted cornstarch to thicken the gravy.

At this time of year, I seem to be especially drawn to the comforting, hearty cooking of the ever-present (here, anyway) Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall. When I was at the grocery store last night, I saw some Italian chestnuts and remembered a recipe in his book The River Cottage Year (now available, you'll notice, from the U.S. Amazon site) that I'd made with my mother last Christmas. This is my version of it.

KALE AND CHESTNUT SOUP
14 oz. chestnuts
4 1/2 c. stock (poultry, beef, vegetable, game, or a combination)
a smallish bunch of fresh kale, shredded coarsely
a couple handfuls of diced cooked ham*
1 tsp. olive oil
salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

Cut a slit in each chestnut. Plunge them all into boiling water and cook 5 minutes. Drain and cool.
Peel off the shells, including the thin, inner brown skin. This is a little time-consuming and tricky, so do it when you're not in a hurry or you'll be very frustrated.
Simmer the peeled chestnuts in the stock until tender. Partially mash them so that some of them thicken the broth and the remaining chestnuts are broken up a bit. Add the kale, ham, and oil. Simmer until the kale is tender, but not mushy. Season to taste.

*Alternately, HFW says you can make the recipe with bacon, in which case you use the oil to fry it in before adding it to the soup. HFW seems to be a great fan of bacon for bacon's sake, and this fact only increases his popularity chez nous.

Tonight I made the Provençal daube from Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall's Meat Book, word for word. It's great, and at this point I think I'd better go ahead and suggest that you all go here and order a copy of the book for yourselves!