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Through a Decoy’s E - Fighting the cold with duck

Fighting the cold with duck Fighting the cold with duck

Through a

Decoy’s E

ye

by

Chuck K olar Local Outdoorsman

The glowing orange flames from inside the woodstove held the cold winter air that drifted down from the Arctic and other points north at bay. I’m not a fan of air that’s cold. Not now, not in my youth, nor in my coming senior years do I foresee liking cold winter air.

I do enjoy getting outdoors and making firewood. Something to do in the colder months because I enjoy a day in the woods. Maybe I enjoy it because I get to do it on my terms now. In my youth I didn’t, nor did my brothers. We did enjoy the woods and the fire though.

I stood in front of our kitchen island mincing a couple tablespoons of fresh onion with a podcast playing in the background. They talked about bird hunting - quail, I think. The boys are hunting quail right now in the south and in some places, woodcock. Some gals are hunting them too.

Every winter I think to myself why do we take all our time off in the fall when in the cold winter months around here the southern states hunt quail in great weather conditions by our standards. A winter hunt in Arizona for quail sounds good when subzero temperatures set in. Yet every year the draw of the yellow, orange, and red leaves takes my breath away and wins out. Or maybe the smell of freshly fallen leaves wins out. I don’t know which, maybe both.

When I finished mincing the onion, I minced up a couple tablespoons of green pepper and pulled out a couple bay leaves. Earlier that day I read from a book with Allie sitting on my lap napping. When the heat from the woodstove drove her to seek cooler parts of the house, I followed her cue and did the same, leading me to standing in the kitchen preparing dinner.

After finishing mincing the peppers, I sliced a pound of mushrooms. Then I rinsed the thawed ducks that I hunted on a breezy, crisp fall morning last November. I removed the breast and put carcasses into a plastic bag and set those in the fridge. I planned to make duck soup with them. I cut the breast into half inch square cubes.

The podcast ended and a new one started. They were talking about threats to hunting in Colorado. They talked about how the groups seeking to end several types of hunting portrayed hunters. Those groups left out the part that involves food. I wonder why?

The host cracked a beer and commented on how refreshing it tasted. He inspired me to pour a glass of wine that we planned to enjoy with the duck for dinner. I opened a window and the back door a bit to let a little fresh air in and mixed up some seasoned flour. Then I dredged the duck breast pieces in the flour. I melted some butter in a good sized frying pan and added the duck, browning it lightly until the flour crisped and removed the duck. I took a sip of the wine and started cooking a couple cups of wild rice. The first sip tasted pretty good so I took another. I added a bit more butter to the pan and sauteed the onions and peppers until the onions became translucent, then I added the mushroom, bay leaves, and a tablespoon of minced garlic. I stirred that around and added in a couple cups of chicken stock and some red wine. Just before that mixture came to a boil, I added the duck pieces back in and brought it up to a simmer. It needs to simmer about 45 minutes to finish and thicken to the consistency for serving.

Our friends arrived about when I added the duck. They liked the warmth of the wood stove and smell of the cooking fricassee. We chatted about how we might get some fishing ice yet this winter and I tossed up a salad and finished a broccoli dish baking in the oven.

We relived the pass these particular ducks made low over the decoys. How they turned back at my call and set up nicely. How another hunter at the landing told us it looked like the perfect image of a duck hunt. How the wind made retrieving them hard.

We enjoyed the fricassee of duck over wild rice and toasted the ducks, the hunt, the dinner, and friendship.

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