Like Raffi, I feel unable to let the day's tragedy pass without a comment. (Unlike Raffi, I do not think I would be happy settling down in London; I am a bit too much of an American Exceptionalist at heart.) The D.C. subways were quiet and slow by the time I came home tonight, with an extra retinue of sharp-eyed guards peering around. Perhaps irrationally, I felt like they were one of the safest places to be.

A co-worker tried to put the day "in perspective" by pointing out that orders of magnitude more Londoners were killed during the German blitz. This is true enough, but perspective is about not just size, but also distance. This is fast, this is immediate, this is now.

My own immediate inclination would be for swift and deadly retaliation, but first, as Raffi says, tea. The rest, like blog posts about originalism and a blog post begging for help on technical matters, will have to wait until tomorrow.

It would be a little callous to let the day pass without any mention of the attacks in London, I think. Just last year, on July 4th, I flew to that city to spend seven weeks working for a law firm, and I know it well from both that time and my time an hour outside in Cambridge. London is one of the cities, along with Paris, and New York, that I see myself settling down in some day. And the day's events are certainly painful.

But as I posted on my own blog, our British friends are best when things are going badly. So it was with a wry smile that I saw a middle aged british woman on TV rambling among the lightly wounded in London with a kettle full of water and some supermarket milk, handing out mugs of tea. Nothing could personify the British people that I know quite as well as that image. Yes, perhaps some wretched dark age vestiges attacked them in their home. And they'll do what needs to be done in due time. But first, tea. Tea, and thought.

My condolences to them, and wishes for strength.

I still remember the first time I ever ate duck. I was twelve or thirteen, and had just discovered that many foods which I hadn't eaten before were actually yummy, and not gross at all. It was at the Ballard Store in the Santa Ynez Valley--an old-school French place specializing in the rich, heavy, fancy sort of foods that were already going out of style whose main claim to fame was that Ronald Regan had once been a regular.

I ordered duck a l'orange--half a roast duck, glistening with fat, deeply glazed with a syrupy, tangy orange sauce, and the meat so tender the bird was falling apart under its thick layer of skin. Nowadays I'd sniff at such a bird, but back then it was the most sublimely delicious piece of poultry that I'd ever consumed.

Inspired by that meal, duck was the main dish in the first fancy dinner I ever cooked, a Christmas Eve dinner for my family that went on to become a minor holiday tradition. Rooting through my family cookbook collection, I found many recipes for duck a l'orange that involved two days work and the creation of all sorts of labor-intensive classic French sauces whose purposes were opaque to me before finding one that looked executable. It involved orange marmalade, and soy sauce and worcestschire in place of the traditional brown sauce, but tasted just as duck a l'orange was supposed to taste--tangy-sweet and richly meaty.

Given my prolonged love affair with duck, I decided several months ago to learn to cook the perfect duck, in each of its many manifestations, starting with the classic seared duck breast. Ideally, duck breast should be served somewhere between medium and medium-rare, depending on taste (too rare lacks flavor, too well done and it's chewy), crowned with a thin layer of deliciously crispy skin, and complemented by a nice, deeply-flavored sauce.

I have decided that I can finally declare success in my search for the ideal seared duck. Between fresh and frozen duck I could detect little difference, but between breeds the variations were significant. I like the Moulard duck breast best--the Muscovy is just too expensive, and the Peking and Long Island duck (actually the same breed) has too high of a fat to meat ratio for its breast.

The secret to succulent duck is to essentially cook the skin and the meat in two different processes, treating the skin like bacon and the meat like steak. In practice, this means preparing the duck by scoring the thick layer of fat in a diamond pattern, seasoning both fat and meat with salt and pepper, and then placing the duck, skin side down, in a skillet over low heat and letting the fat render and crisp for somewhere between twelve and fifteen minutes. At the end of this process, the skin should be crispy and deep brown, but only the meat directly touching the skin will be at all cooked. The duck should then be completely removed from the pan, all but a tablespoon or two of the fat poured off, and the pan returned to the stove over medium-high heat. Once the pan has reheated, return the duck, skin side up, to cook for four to six minutes to somewhere between rare and medium rare (the duck will continue cooking a bit once removed from the heat). Turn the duck back over for another minute or so for a final crisping of the skin, and then let it sit while you prepare a pan sauce. There should be just the right amount of fat left in the pan to saute whatever onions, shallots, or other vegetables will serve as the basis for the sauce.

Incidentally, it's well worth the effort to save the fat you initially pour off the pan--potatoes sauteed in duck fat are absolutely heavenly.

Seared Duck Breast with Orange Sauce

1 duck breast (approximately 2 pounds)
1 shallot, chopped
zest of one orange
1 tbsp. fresh tarragon, minced, or 1 tsp dried.
1/2 cup orange juice
3/4 cup chicken broth
2 tbsp. brandy
1/2 tsp. dijon mustard
salt and pepper
lemon juice to taste (optional)

Score the fat of the duck breast, and season both sides with salt and pepper. Cool over low heat for twelve to fifteen minutes, until skin is deeply colored and crisp. Remove from pan, drain off excess fat, and turn heat to medium high. Sear duck breast, meat side down, four to six minutes or until rare to medium rare. Turn duck to finish skin--about a minute, or until one to two tablespoons of fat have been rendered. Remove the duck from the heat, and let sit on a covered plate.

Turn heat down to medium and add the shallots to the duck fat, cooking unil limp and transparent. Deglaze the pan with a generous splash of brandy (about two tbsp), then add chicken broth, orange juice, orange zest, and mustard. Cook the sauce, stirring occasionally, until it has been reduced to a thick, syrupy consistency. Remove the sauce from the heat, and stir in the tarragon. Taste and adjust seasonings. If the sauce is too sweet, add a squirt or two of lemon juice to give it the proper zing.

Carve the duck breast against the grain, spread on the plate, and top with the orange sauce.

Herbed Potatoes Sauteed in Duck Fat

One medium-sized potato (red or white) per person, plus one for the pan
Approx 1 tbsp duck fat per potato
1/2 teaspoon dried herbes de provence (traditional French herb blend usually containing savory, rosemary, cracked fennel, thyme, basil, tarragon, lavender, and marjoram) or some subset thereof
Salt and pepper to taste

Peel the potatoes or not as to your taste, and slice into 1/2-3/4" cubes, taking care to cut them to relatively uniform size.

Heat half the duck fat over medium heat in a nonstick skillet large enough to hold all the potatoes comfortably. If in doubt, use a larger skillet--if the potatoes are crowded, they will cook uneavenly. When the duck fat is thorougly liquified, add potatoes, tossing them to coat, and then let cook undisturbed for seven to nine minutes, until the bottoms of the potatoes have formed a golden brown crust. Turn the potatoes and let cook for another seven to nine minutes undisturbed, and then turn again.

At this point, the pan may have gone dry. If so, add additional duck fat, as well as herbs and salt and pepper to taste. Turn heat down slightly and continue to cook, stirring every three to five minutes, until the outsides are crisp and the insides soft--about thirty minutes total cooking time.

David Zaring of PrawfsBlawg has a post about citation of foreign authorities in U.S. Federal Courts. As he points out, there are a lot of different kinds of citation to foreign authority. Like Eugene Kontrovich, who appears in the comments to the post (and my copy of the Green Bag that arrived yesterday) I am most worried about cases where U.S. Courts cite to foreign provisions or practices that are nontrivially different than ours in order to (allegedly) illuminate the meaning of our own.

Unlike some, I do not think that this kind of citation is per se illegitimate, but I cannot think of a time that I have read such a citation or argument and found it at all illuminating. [As Zaring points out, though, this kind of bad citation is not new. The most egregious example I can think of comes from The Draft Cases, 245 U.S. 366:

(T)he very conception of a just government and its duty to the citizen includes the reciprocal obligation of the citizen to render military service in case of need and the right to compel it. Vattel, Law of Nations, Book III, c. 1 & 2. To do more than state the proposition is absolutely unnecessary in view of the practical illustration afforded by the almost universal legislation to that effect now in force. n1

n1: In the argument of the Government it is stated: "The Statesman's Year-book for 1917 cites the following governments as enforcing military service: Argentine Republic, p. 656; Austria-Hungary, p. 667; Belgium, p. 712; Brazil, p. 738; Bulgaria, p. 747; Bolivia, p. 728; Colombia, p. 790; Chile, p. 754; China, p. 770; Denmark, p. 811; Ecuador, p. 820; France, p. 841; Greece, p. 1001; Germany, p. 914; Guatemala, p. 1009; Honduras, p. 1018; Italy, p. 1036; Japan, p. 1064; Mexico, p. 1090; Montenegro, p. 1098; Netherlands, p. 1119; Nicaragua, p. 1142; Norway, p. 1152; Peru, p. 1191; Portugal, p. 1201; Roumania, p. 1220; Russia, p. 1240; Serbia, p. 1281; Siam, p. 1288; Spain, p. 1300; Switzerland, p. 1337; Salvador, p. 1270; Turkey, p. 1353." See also the recent Canadian conscription act, entitled, "Military Service Act" of August 27, 1917, expressly providing for service abroad (printed in the Congressional Record of September 20, 1917, 55th Cong. Rec., p. 7959); the Conscription Law of the Orange Free State, Law No. 10, 1899, Military Service and Commando Law, sections 10 and 28, Laws of Orange River Colony, 1901, p. 855; of the South African Republic, "De Locale Wetten en Volksraadsbesluiten der Zuid-Afr. Republiek," 1898, Law No. 20, pp. 230, 233, article 6, 28; Constitution, German Empire, April 16, 1871, Art. 57, 59, Dodd, 1 Modern Constitutions, p. 344; Gesetz, betreffend Aenderungen der Wehrpflicht, vom 11 Feb. 1888, No. 1767, Reichs-Gesetzblatt, p. 11, amended by law of July 22, 1913, No. 4264, RGBl., p. 593; Loi sur le recrutement de l'armee of 15 July, 1889 (Duvergier, vol. 89, p. 440), modified by act of 21 March, 1905 (Duvergier, vol. 105, p. 133)

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