I am a terrible procrastinator. If you have spent time with me then you probably already knew that, but you could also guess from the infrequency of updates to BPH that I don't always rush to do what I should. Actually, considering how long it takes me to do important things like finish grad school applications or schedule dentist appointments, I'd say I'm a terrific procrastinator. I am so good at putting things off that I can even rationalize waking up 45 minutes after my alarm starts buzzing while still half asleep. But I like making lists and checking off To-Dos, so my behavior can be confusing. If productivity is satisfying for me, why wait to do tomorrow what I can accomplish today?
I don't really have an answer. The best I can say is that some projects take longer than others or I just need a little push every now and then. For instance, today I woke up thinking I'd write my personal statement and this recipe. Suddenly it was 2 o'clock in the afternoon and the only productive thing I'd done was chat with a friend from England. Then, as if I wasn't already distracted enough, I hopped in the car to search for some ice cream, swearing that I would come back immediately and get things done. Of course, I had to stop and and read the food magazines, if only to remind me what I was supposed to be doing instead. I know what you're thinking but really, finding the April edition of Saveur was helpful.
The editors seemed to have tapped directly into my mind for articles and got me thinking about the next recipes I want to tackle. The cover advertises paella (was just thinking about making that this weekend!), fried chicken (one of my all time favorite foods!), gin (drink of choice!), and cardamom (hello, recent rediscovery!). Not to mention that the table of contents photo is a big bowl of spicy Bucatini all'Amatriciana (just ate it yesterday for lunch!). What I'm saying is that maybe some higher delicious food power is at work here because it managed to remind me that I can't write about those foods until I finish what I started with this duck.
Duck confit requires a bit of procrastination, or as I sometimes like to call it, patience. In this centuries-old tradition, an entire season can pass between the first days of salt curing to the final days of storage. Before the convenience of refrigeration the French would preserve duck in salt then poach the meat in its own fat. After slow cooking on low heat, they would store the meat submerged in the fat to last through the winter.
Originally, duck or goose fat was used to cook (as opposed to olive oil) because of its abundance in the southwestern region of France. I'll be the first to admit that this confit is not 100% authentic because of the olive oil substitute, but unless you have a lot of leftover duck fat from regular go-to meals it is a much less expensive alternative. Even so, the flavors of salt and thyme are deep; the meat is velvety and succulent. The saltiness can be adjusted to taste by shortening the curing process or storing the duck longer to develop more complex flavors. The entire dish is subject to personal preferences and limitations.
Of all the things I manage to distract myself from, figuring out "the future" is probably the most worrisome. Some people call it a quarter-life crisis while others just call me lost. I would probably resent those labels if I didn't already think them myself. For many people my age, this time of transition is excruciating, especially in this economy and amidst the constant flow of new technology. It seems like once I've reached an understanding of what's happening now the tomorrow is already emerging and I have to start over again.
Luckily, I'm realizing that this may just be a process that falls in the "projects that take more time" category. That attitude may lead down a dark path to nowhere or it will help to define a me that now seems completely intangible. Even though uncertainty like that often makes me feel like I am running in a cage wheel, I'd rather procrastinate be patient and know that my life has been deliberate rather than rushed. I want a future that is rich and tasty like my duck. And since everything that needs to be done always is, like this recipe, I'm not too concerned about where I'm headed. Now I just have to bring myself to work on that personal statement. Maybe I'll start right after I get another cup of coffee.
