…it’s so much more than that, at least in France. In this lovely country of mine, generic terms don’t mean anything when it comes to good food. A duck – might be a well-fed bird from Nantes or a fleshier brother from Rouen or Challans. You will find the noble Canard de Bresse, raised and pampered like a prince (although it’s not part of the world-famous poultry AOC). There’s ducks blanc de l’Allier or de Bourbourg or de Vouillé, ducks from les Landes, from Loué, from Sarthes or from le Sud-Ouest, and this is just a quick and very rough overview. In fact, there’s proud breeders in almost every French valley whose activities can date back to ancient times.
I’ve bought a piece, a magret from southern France, a duck breast displaying a snow-white coat of fat over firm yet tender meat of a colour you only know from old Dutch master paintings. I’m a bit ashamed to say that I just used it as an ingredient of a nice, hot, spicy Japanese-style soup. Needless to say that it turned out delicious.