Duck Leg Confit Ramen
Duck confit is one of those French cooking techniques that sounds impossibly complicated until you realize it's basically just slow-cooking duck in its own fat until it's so tender it falls off the bone. It takes time, sure, but it's not hard, and the result is this impossibly rich, silky meat with crispy skin that makes you understand why the French take their food so seriously. Serving it over ramen noodles in a broth enriched with duck fat is the kind of fusion that feels respectful to both traditions, because both French and Japanese cuisines understand that fat equals flavor and patience equals perfection. It's rich, it's luxurious, and it's the kind of dish you make when you have an afternoon to kill and want to feel like a culinary genius by dinnertime.
Fat melts like butter—duck surrenders to the salt—time turns flesh to silk.
Let Me Tell You...
I had duck confit for the first time at a French restaurant where the waiter looked at me like I was an idiot when I asked what it was.
He explained it in rapid-fire French-accented English, something about duck legs cured in salt and then cooked in fat for hours until they were tender, and I nodded like I understood even though I didn't.
When it arrived, it looked simple, just a duck leg with crispy skin sitting on a bed of lentils.
I cut into it and the meat practically fell off the bone, rich and silky and so flavorful I almost forgot how condescending the waiter had been.
I asked for the recipe and he laughed at me.
The salt draws out moisture and seasons the meat deeply.
I started researching duck confit at home, reading recipes that all said basically the same thing: salt the duck, let it sit, then cook it low and slow in duck fat.
The hardest part was finding duck fat, which I eventually tracked down at a fancy butcher shop that charged me way too much for a jar.
I salted the duck legs with salt, thyme, and garlic, wrapped them in plastic, and stuck them in the fridge overnight.
The next day, I rinsed off the salt, dried them, and submerged them in melted duck fat in a deep pot.
Then I stuck the whole thing in a low oven and forgot about it for two and a half hours.
High heat = tough meat.
Low heat = tender, silky perfection.
When I pulled the pot out of the oven, the duck legs were sitting in this golden, fragrant fat, and the meat was so tender I could pull it apart with a fork.
I let them cool in the fat, then pulled them out and crisped up the skin in a hot pan until it was golden and crackling.
I had ramen noodles and some chicken stock, so I made a quick broth and stirred in a few tablespoons of the duck fat for richness.
The whole apartment smelled like a French bistro, and I felt smugly accomplished for pulling off something that seemed way fancier than it actually was.
Use it for the broth, for frying potatoes, for everything.
I cooked the noodles, ladled the duck-fat enriched broth over them, and placed the crispy duck leg on top like a crown.
I added fresh thyme and a little orange zest because duck and orange are a classic pairing and I'm not going to argue with the French on this one.
The first bite was ridiculous.
The duck was rich and tender with that crispy skin that shattered when I bit into it, and the broth was silky and luxurious from all that duck fat.
The noodles soaked up the richness, and every bite felt like I was eating something that belonged in a restaurant with white tablecloths and pretentious waiters.
It's not the kind of dish you make on a Tuesday night, but when you do make it, it's worth every minute.
Ingredients
- 2 packages ramen noodles (discard seasoning packets)
- 2 duck legs (about 12 oz each)
- 2 tablespoons kosher salt
- 4 cloves garlic, smashed
- 4 sprigs fresh thyme
- 2 cups duck fat (or enough to submerge the duck legs)
- 4 cups chicken broth (preferably low-sodium)
- 2 tablespoons rendered duck fat (from cooking)
- 1 tablespoon soy sauce
- 1 teaspoon orange zest
- 1 bay leaf
- Salt and black pepper, to taste
- Fresh thyme sprigs, for garnish
- Orange wedges, for serving
Preparation
- Rub the duck legs all over with kosher salt, smashed garlic, and fresh thyme sprigs. Place in a dish, cover with plastic wrap, and refrigerate overnight (or at least 8 hours).
- The next day, preheat the oven to 250°F (120°C). Rinse the duck legs under cold water to remove the salt cure, then pat completely dry with paper towels.
- Place the duck legs in a deep oven-safe pot or Dutch oven. Melt the duck fat and pour it over the duck legs until they are completely submerged. Add the bay leaf.
- Cover the pot tightly with a lid or aluminum foil and transfer to the preheated oven. Cook for 2.5 to 3 hours, until the duck is fork-tender and the meat pulls away from the bone easily.
- Remove the pot from the oven and let the duck cool slightly in the fat. Carefully remove the duck legs from the fat (reserve the fat for other uses) and pat dry.
- Heat a large skillet over medium-high heat. Place the duck legs skin-side down and cook for 4-5 minutes until the skin is golden and crispy. Flip and cook for another 2 minutes to heat through. Remove from heat and set aside.
- In a medium pot, combine the chicken broth, 2 tablespoons of the reserved duck fat, soy sauce, and orange zest. Bring to a gentle simmer and cook for 5 minutes. Taste and adjust seasoning with salt and black pepper as needed.
- While the broth simmers, cook the ramen noodles according to package instructions until just tender. Drain and set aside.
- Divide the cooked ramen noodles between two serving bowls. Ladle the hot duck broth over the noodles.
- Place one crispy duck leg on top of each bowl. Garnish with fresh thyme sprigs and serve with orange wedges on the side.