How to Make Peking Duck — The Authentic Beijing Imperial Recipe

Transcript

Show Host: It is five in the afternoon at Quanjude on Qianmen Street in Beijing, a master carver has been slicing the same duck for forty-seven seconds, and the count is going to land at exactly one-hundred-twenty paper-thin pieces from one bird. Tonight we make true Beijing kao ya from scratch — the air-pump skin separation, the maltose lacquer, the twenty-four hour hang, the fruitwood-fired roast, and the one-hundred-eight or one-hundred-twenty-piece carve. Joining me are a Beijing Duck Master and an Imperial Pastry Cook from a Qianmen hutong.

Duck Master: Peking duck began in the imperial kitchens of the Yuan Dynasty around thirteen-hundred and was formalized as a court dish under the Ming Dynasty by fifteen-thirty when the capital moved to Beijing. The legendary restaurant Quanjude opened on Qianmen Street in eighteen-sixty-four and standardized the modern method — hung oven, fruitwood fire, the lacquer skin. The duck is a young Pekin breed, the white-feathered bird raised six to seven weeks, weighing about four-and-a-half pounds dressed. Every step exists to produce one thing — that signature crackling glass-thin amber skin.

Imperial Cook: The first step is the air-pump separation. Insert a thin tube under the skin at the base of the neck and pump air gently between the skin and the breast muscle until the skin balloons away from the meat. This is what makes the skin able to render its fat outward during roasting instead of steaming the meat. The classical method used a bicycle pump in Quanjude's kitchens for one hundred years. Tie the neck shut with kitchen twine to trap the air. Then pour two full kettles of boiling water — at two-hundred-twelve degrees Fahrenheit, one-hundred Celsius — over the entire bird to tighten the pores.

Duck Master: Now the maltose glaze, this is the lacquer. In a small saucepan over low heat whisk together one cup of malt-sugar maltose syrup with half a cup of water and a quarter cup of clear white vinegar until smooth. Brush the entire bird three full coats, allowing it to dry between coats. Then hang the duck by the neck in a cool dry well-ventilated room — a refrigerator with the door propped open works perfectly — for a full twenty-four hours minimum, ideally thirty-six hours. The skin must become completely dry and tight like parchment. This is the single most important step. Skin not fully dried equals soft skin in the oven.

Imperial Cook: The roast is traditionally done in a hung wood-fired oven called a gua lu fed with fruit-wood — jujube wood is the classical choice, peach or pear wood are acceptable. For a home oven without hanging, place the duck breast-up on a rack over a deep tray of two cups of water inside the lowest rack of an oven preheated to four-hundred-seventy-five degrees Fahrenheit, two-hundred-forty-five Celsius. Do not stuff the duck. Roast forty-five minutes at four-seventy-five. Then drop the temperature to four-hundred Fahrenheit, two-hundred-five Celsius. Roast thirty more minutes. Total seventy-five minutes. Rest ten minutes before any slicing.

Duck Master: The carve is theater and discipline. Use a thin razor-sharp slicing knife. The classical Quanjude carve produces one-hundred-eight slices — some say one-hundred-twenty — each piece a perfect rectangle of crisp skin attached to a wafer of meat. Start at the breast. Slice down at a forty-five-degree angle, one-quarter inch thick and one-and-a-half inches long. Every slice must contain both skin and meat. Arrange the slices in two concentric circles on a warm porcelain plate. The classical first piece — the crispest piece — is dipped in fine white sugar and eaten alone to honor the skin.

Imperial Cook: The accompaniments. For one duck make twenty-four Mandarin pancakes — fresh hot-water dough, two cups flour with three-quarters cup boiling water, knead five minutes, rest thirty minutes, roll into thin six-inch rounds two at a time brushed with sesame oil between them, dry-fry in a hot pan thirty seconds per side, peel apart. Slice four scallions into three-inch julienned thin slivers, soak ten minutes in ice water for crispness. Slice half a long English cucumber into matching julienned slivers. A small bowl of dark fragrant hoisin sauce or sweet bean paste tianmianjiang.

Duck Master: The assembly. Hold one warm Mandarin pancake flat on your fingertips. Use chopsticks to paint a one-tablespoon stripe of hoisin or tianmianjiang down the center. Lay two scallion slivers and two cucumber slivers across the sauce. Top with two slices of crisp duck skin and one slice of meat. Fold the pancake bottom up to seal in the sauce, then fold the two sides over forming a small open-top wrap. Eat it whole in two bites. Then drink three sips of jasmine tea before the next pancake. Quanjude's famous count is forty-nine seconds to carve and seven minutes for a guest to eat.

Show Host: Three takeaways. One — the skin is everything. Air-pump skin separation, boiling-water pore-tightening, three coats of maltose glaze, full twenty-four to thirty-six hour cool dry hang. Skip the hang, wet bird. Two — roast four-hundred-seventy-five Fahrenheit, two-hundred-forty-five Celsius, forty-five minutes, drop to four-hundred Fahrenheit, two-hundred-five Celsius, thirty minutes. Seventy-five total plus ten rest. Three — fresh Mandarin pancakes, julienned scallion and cucumber, glossy hoisin. First bite of crisp skin in white sugar. Thank you, Duck Master. Thank you, Imperial Cook.