It’s my birthday, I demand duck!

My husband and I have been together for 5 years now. Like most couples, we love to indulge in good food together. In fact for our first date he cooked up salmon for dinner; it did not disappoint.

Our love of food has meant trying lots of different recipes, investing in many recipe books and populating my Pinterest board with all kinds of nutritional goodness. From this, we have created great traditions, but none as good as Birthday Duck.

I remember the first time I ever tried duck. I was 12 years old and my family and I went to a Chinese restaurant for dinner. Our table was covered with many tasty plates of food; spring rolls to start, some classic egg fried rice in the mains, ribs in plum sauce and then the infamous duck.

My mouth watered as they brought all the different dishes to our table. They set the duck dish in front of me and I stared at the plate a little confused. It obviously didn’t look like a duck anymore (well done 12 year old Keshia), but it also looked very dark! For most of the night, I avoided it. My childish gut told me I wasn’t going to enjoy it, so I tucked into every other dish.

Towards the end of the night, my Mum finally convinced me to give it a go. So, I steadied my fork and cut a small piece with my knife. Apprehensively, I lifted the small portion to my mouth, using this close proximity to my nose as an opportunity to give it a quick whiff. I bit down, chewed for a few moments and let the taste settle on my palette. I looked up from my plate and saw everyone look at me with slight smirks on their faces and bemused expectation.

“So?” My aunt asked, “what do you think?”

I hated it. It was the most disgusting thing I had eaten all week and it had ruined my evening of perfectly decent Chinese food. I chased down the piece of duck with my coke and tried to wipe what just happened from my mind and my mouth.

Fast forward twenty odd years, and I cannot get enough of the poultry goodness. After experience no.1, never did I think I would be a duck convert. Yet here I am, pining for my birthday so I can get another hit.

I suppose you could say the difference between me then and me now is primarily my age - our palettes change as we get older (and in this case, wiser). You could also say, it comes down to who prepared the meal.

If you said that, I would retort you to be horribly cliched. But I suppose you’re not entirely incorrect. Of course, I would hope my husband prepares every meal with love and affection in his heart - acts of service are in fact his love language. And, of course I receive every meal grateful for his efforts and existence.

But the obvious difference, which is the one I will settle on, is the way it’s prepared.

My husband pan fries the duck until the fat is rendered and the meat is a good pink on the inside - yes, a Masterchef worthy standard. He serves it with a side of dauphinois potatoes and steamed greens. I know, how could anything go wrong when it comes with ‘dolphin nose potatoes’? The perfect meal is then topped off with a delicious glass of something red, preferably a Malbec.

It’s a simple yet decadent meal that’s always a sure fire way to make me smile, warm my heart and get me ready to thank him in other ways…