I write about my successes far more often than I write about my failures, though I do throw a few in for comic effect as well as to keep myself humble. This post is to show that although I cook creatively, intuitively, and persistently I still cook carelessly, I take shortcuts, and, most importantly, I don’t listen to my mother enough.

This past week I experienced the honor of having one of my recipes requested for a friend’s birthday. Brynne wanted me to make what she called “that awesome mushroom soup,” and which I eventually determined was my Oriental Chicken Soup. I was incredibly flattered by the request. However, because I had just made my Traditional Chicken Soup for the geeks (especially Cam who had a cold) on Wednesday I asked Brynne if she would mind my adjusting the recipe to use duck instead of chicken. She graciously told me that she had no objection.

I purchased a whole duck, thawed it out, and removed the breasts to be sautéed for Nick and I to use for dinner later in the week. I threw the rest of the bird into a pot with the flavorings, covered it with water, and started it boiling. Three hours later I strained the mess though a strainer lined with cheese cloth, refrigerated the strained solids so that the duck would be cold enough for me to pick the meat form the bones, turned back to my broth I had just strained and realized that I was an idiot for not listening to my mother.

My mom has told me approximately five-thousand times the story of her first experience cooking duck. “I brought home these two ducks for a dinner party that I was throwing. I had never cooked duck before, but they looked pretty plump, so I figured that two birds would be enough for a group of six. But then I put them in the oven and they shrunk and shrunk until they were almost gone. They looked like pigeons or something! Ducks are nothing but fat, Amy, when you cook them they just melt away.”

Mom is right, ducks are nothing by fat and my broth was proof of it. On the top there was a quarter inch of duck produced oil that I needed to remove.

I began skimming the broth, but 15 minutes later it looked as though I had never even started and I got frustrated. I decided that since the fat was animal fat that it would solidify if cooled and so I popped it into the fridge. I julienned the vegetables while I waited so that I wasn’t wasting time, but when I checked the fridge there was no sign of thickening.

Now I was a little panicked. James had already finished with the main course and the soup was supposed to be the appetizer; I was the one holding up dinner. If I skimmed the soup by hand it would take at least another 15 but more likely 25 minutes, if I kept the soup in the fridge who knew how long it would take to solidify. I went to Brynne and asked what she wanted me to do. She agreed to start dinner with the main course, then have cake, and then have the soup as dessert. I wanted to take no chances so I reorganized the freezer in a way that let it accommodate a giant vat of soup. Then I crossed my fingers and went to enjoy James’s salmon cakes.

Maybe this particular duck’s fat was defying the laws of physics, but after dinner that soup was still totally liquid and the fat was still coating the top. There was no hope, I had to skim it. And so I did. It took half an hour during which my hand became entirely covered in oil and I filled a 16 ounce bowl entirely with fat. Fortunately, the soup tasted fantastic. You can use the recipe for Oriental Chicken Soup and substitute duck instead. Just…trim all the fat you can from the duck before you start making the broth.