Cherry Blossoms... France (Spring 2011)

 Okay, maybe wishful thinking has me a bit ahead of things as Spring is still a few day's away, but when our very old Rainier cherry tree blooms the change of seasons is near. There is a clear understanding among our neighbors that if we are not present at any time during the peak of one of the several fruits that grow on the property they are to help themselves. What has happened is abundance of confitures and preserved fruit given to a us in return. Jams of apricot, blackberry, raspberry, and quince, not to mention preserved plum and cherry or chutney made with the cassis are among the bounty.
 As we make preparations for our return to France for the Spring Sessions, I look forward to those first signs of change: blossoms bursting on tree limbs, fields with the faint green fuzz of young shoots, the air  fresh and expectant in the morning. Always seemingly the first tree to mark the change is the cherry tree that sits snugly in the corner of our rose garden. Best guess has it being planted over some 40 years ago, and it still gives love in the form of it's red and yellow marbled fruit each year. Last year we missed the peak of these gifts, so our good friend and neighbor Suzanne was the beneficiary, making jam out of much of it, preserving the rest whole.
 It was this past Autumn, with a serious taste for magret de canard that the cherries found their way back to us. Having picked up some skate wing earlier in the day during a visit to the market in Cognac, we stopped by the charming artist village of Tusson on the way home at a small producer of all things duck. Remarkable is their foie gras, but with skate wing (and it's requisite butter) already planned, we kept our focus on the duck breasts. Relatively small and slender, they were butchered as we waited.
 With a fire coming to life in our large kitchen chimney, a dish of olives and nuts to ease our growing hunger, we sipped cocktails of young cognac, tonic and lemon (a regional necessity). Katie did the skate in a hot pan with some shallot and a citrus buerre blanc. By then we'd moved onto to a crisp and dry Bordeaux white (Chateau Carbonnieux '05 Blanc), eating the rich, delicate fish perhaps too quickly, using baguette to clean our plates.

 Next it was time for the magret, hitting the well heated cast iron skillet with a hiss of fatty skin. The kitchen already held the rich air of a leek and potato gratin, bubbling in cream and butter. With the skins crisp and deeply caramel in color, Katie seared the other sides before finishing the duck breasts in the oven. A bit of time to rest once out, and they were sliced (perfectly pink), and plated with the gratin. All that was left was the touch of cherries, having been warmed in a sauce fashioned from reduced pigeon stock (Call it "squab" if it sounds better!), then scattered about the plate. Went with a Volnay '05 which did not disappoint. Enough fruit to ease the richness of the duck, but with a welcome dry finish to balance Suzanne's preserved cherries. A bit embarrassed to admit we managed to tear into some gâteau chocolat, a further offering of our caring and thoughtful neighbor. Then another log on the fire... a short coffee... a cognac...
(Recipes on request.)