Pistachio Cake

This is the simplest, best cake that you can make. It’s based on David Lebovitz’s Almond Cake. I’ve been making it for years, with a simple swap of the almond paste for pistachio paste. I’ve recently taken it to the next level by elevating the quality of pistachio paste, which is the star of the show. Suddenly, it’s a whole new creation.

One thing? Unless you’re going to dump a whole bottle of actual champagne into a cake, this is likely the most expensive cake you’ll ever make. But will you be the most beloved of cottage guests? I assure you, you will.

I used to buy American Almond brand pistachio paste, but at 30% canola oil, I was dumbing down the flavour of my cake unnecessarily. A homemade pistachio paste can be lovely, but the best quality pistachios are so expensive that I just cave and buy the best store-bought I can find, which here in Toronto is Soma’s Manjoun-Pistachio Butter. Stella Parks suggests you make your own, using cheaper California pistachios, and pump up the flavour with pistachio oil and orange water, but there is nothing like the real thing. For this cake, it truly is go big or go home.

This pistachio paste contains a lot more fat and a lot less sugar than the Odense almond paste that I use when I make the almond version of this cake. And yet it rises much higher and has a finer crumb, and is unbelievably moist. It will still sink a little in the middle, as per the original, but not be greasy or heavy. It’ll keep for days and is ideal for afternoon tea. It’s so full of eggs that I think you can call it breakfast in good conscience.

For those who want it as dessert, I reserve a little of the paste to add to whipping cream for a not-too-sweet topping. Perfect with sliced strawberries. I have a jar of candied cumquats that I used for cocktail making that work well spooned onto the cake. That same syrup is also a perfect addition to the whipped cream. Top this cake with plums, apricots, berries, poached pears, peaches, or a white chocolate ganache. Heaven.

Pistachio Cake

The simplest of cakes, based on the famous Almond Cake by David Lebovitz. The pistachio version is expensive as all heck but truly sublime.
Course Breakfast, Dessert
Cuisine American, Canadian, French


  • 1 ⅓ cup sugar (265 g)
  • 8 oz best quality pistachio paste (225 g) For SOMA pistacio paste, this is two jars minus one tbsp
  • 1 cup flour, divided (140g total)
  • 1 ½ tsp baking powder
  • ½ rounded tsp fine ground sea salt
  • 1 cup unsalted butter, at room temperature, cubed (225g)
  • 1 tsp vanilla extract
  • 1 tsp pistachio extract or liquor (or ¼ tsp almond extract)
  • 6 large eggs, at room temperature


  • Preheat the oven to 325ºF (160ºC). Grease a 9- or 10-inch (23-25 cm) cake or spring form pan with butter, dust it with flour and tap out any excess. Line the bottom of the pan with a round of parchment paper.
  • Using a food processor, grind the sugar, pistachio paste, and 1/4 cup (35g) of flour until the almond paste is finely ground and the mixture resembles wet sand. The pistachoi paste is much more liquid than almond paste, so if you're used to a drier mixture at this point, fear not.
  • In a small bowl, whisk together the remaining 3/4 cup (105g) of flour, baking powder, and salt.
  • Add the cubes of butter and the vanilla and almond extracts to the sugar mixture, processing until the batter is smooth. It will be still fairly runny and vivid green. It gets better, I promise.
  • Add the eggs one at a time, processing a bit before the next addition. Scrape the sides down if necessary.
  • Add half the flour mixture and pulse the machine a few times. Add the rest, pulsing the machine until the dry ingredients are just incorporated. Do not overmix. (You can also transfer the batter to a bowl and mix the dry ingredients in, which ensures that you don’t overbeat it.)
  • Scrape the batter into the prepared cake pan and bake the cake for about 60 minutes, or until the top is deep brown and feels set when you press in the center.
  • Remove the cake from the oven and run a sharp or serrated knife around the perimeter, loosing the cake from the sides of the pan. Let the cake cool completely in the pan. It will sink in the middle a little. This is nothing to worry about.
  • Once it's cool, remove it from the pan. It stays fresh for four days wrapped tight or in a cake dome with parchment paper pressed to the cut side.
  • This cake is wonderful wiht summer fruit. It woudl also be incredible with a white chocolate pistachio ganache, or a rose and strawberry flavoured whipped cream, or an orange sauce.
Keyword #afternoontea, #pistachio, #pistachiocake, #pistachiocream, #pistachiopaste, #teacake, #teatime

Smoky Mustard Triple Onion Potato Salad

Nothing says summer like plain old potato salad with mayo, hardboiled eggs and green onions. Sadly, fewer and fewer people love this old-style summer dish. Vinaigrettes on potatoes are more in vogue, and power to them. A lovely way to add some flavour to a potato salad, and certainly safer than mayonnaise on a sunny day.

For this recipe, I have rudely gone back to my smoky onion pickles, like a mantra that I can’t stop chanting, a recipe I can’t stop spinning. Or a song stuck in your head, that you must get out by singing and driving everyone around you nuts. Except I can’t sing (or so I’ve been told). However, no one ever complains about the smoky onion pickles. Go on and make a batch. Super easy and really worth the effort for their versatility and strong umami hit.

If you don’t want to be bothered, just use the old trick of softening your onions by fine chopping them and adding them to the vinegar as the water is boiling for the potatoes, and add a bit of Lapsang Souching to the vinegar. You can fish it out afterwards, using a teabag or fine chop it and leave it in. Either way, you’ll achieve that lovely smoky, malty flavour without having to do the extra step of making the pickles. I just always have them on hand.

I also have the benefit of always having a selection of Kozlik’s amazing mustards handy, so I doubled down on the smoky flavour with their Sweet & Smokey Mustard.

I quickly brown some shallots or thin sliced onions in simmering oil, (à la Barefoot Contessa style) and then top the whole mess with chives, or green onions, or garlic scapes – whatever is handy.

Now, if instead of the frizzled onions, you wanted to caramelize some instead, and then top your potatoes with some Gruyere or Jura, well, no one would object! Reheat those on the bbq in a cast iron pan or brulée them in the oven and you’re a star. But the point is, these potatoes have plenty of flavour cold and can stand up to anything else just on their own.


This potato salad is infused with the flavours of mustrad, onions and smoke for a new summer staple.
Course Side Dish
Cuisine American, British, Canadian


  • ½ cup smoky onions, minced fine Or plain onoin, minced fine
  • 1 cup smoky onion vinaigrette Or plain white wine vinegar, with lapsang souching
  • 2 tbsps onion powder
  • ¼ cup dijon mustard, preferably Kozlick's Sweet & Smoky
  • 1 tbsp salt, fine ground
  • fresh ground pepper, to taste
  • 1 3 lb bag of yellow or red potatoes
  • ½ cup fresh chives
  • 2 shallots (or 1 onion)
  • vegetable oil


  • Cut potatoes in quarters, then boil in a generous amount of well-salted water.
  • If you are using the smoky onion pickles, fish out the pickles from their vinegar, chop them fine with the tea leaves, and mix them in a bowl with all of the other ingredients.
  • If you are starting from scratch, place 4 tea bags or ¼ cup of lapsang souching in the vinegar. If you want to place the loose tea in a tea filter, you can remove it later. If you like to eat tea leaves, as I do, leave them in, breaking them first into tiny bits. Fine chop the onions and let both the tea and onions sit in the vinegar for at least 15 minutes. Then add the onion powder, salt, pepper and mustard.
  • When the potatoes are just cooked through, drain then. Add the vinaigrette while they are hot.
  • Thinly slice two shallots or one onion in simmering oil. Cook them, watching all the time, until they turn brown and crispy. Quickly drain them on paper towel.
  • Add chives or green onions right before you serve.
Keyword #lapsangsouching, #potatosalad, #smokyonions

Black Currant Ice Tea

I’ve just learned this week that “iced tea” refers to hot-brewed tea that has been chilled with ice, and that “ice tea” is another term for cold brew. I have no idea how seriously anyone takes their tea terminology, but all I know is there is a lot of fun you can have with chilled tea.

Since June is Iced Tea month, I’ve been having fun playing with different ingredients and methods, coming up with some serious funky concoctions. And some have been surprisingly good. (The others we needn’t mention.)

I love black currant tea. It feels like a traditional and harmonious flavour pairing, much like Earl Grey, but having fallen in popularity somewhat. (For a quick history of the legality of black currants in North America, see my post on the Lady Baker’s Tea blog here).

I also buy a lot of freeze-dried fruits and use them for creams, sauces and jellies (sadly they don’t work well in a milk-based custard. Bon Apetit spells it out here.) Sometimes I’ve got a few leftovers that are too expensive to throw out and too small to do much with. I always have freeze-dried black currants on hand (they make a potent and tangy sauce for duck). Turns out, they can add some oomph to iced tea.

I cold-brewed some black currant iced tea, and would have been happy to sweeten it and augment the flavour with black currant cordial if I had some. I used what I had instead, and it added all the flavour and none of the sweetness. It definitely needed sweeter, so I added some honey.

What makes this a great breakfast brew are two things: I brewed the tea and black currants in milk. You still need that honey—black currants are really, really tart! They are also full of pectin, which added a thickness to it. It was almost like a yoghurt drink, except charged with caffeine, and much less sugar.

This was the perfect treat to enjoy with the sunrise before my early morning walk. Just enough caffeine, just enough substance to hold me off until breakfast, just enough effort: shake, strain and serve.

These proportions are guidelines. Also, if you have a few leftover bit of freeze-dried fruits, why not throw them in your cold brew tea? In water, in juice, in milk. The combinations are infinite!

Black Currant Iced Milk Tea Shake

Cold-brewed tea in milk is a great base for leftover freeze-dried fruits. In this case, black currant tea is reinforced with freeze-dried black currants for a thick and potent concoction.
Prep Time 1 d
Course Drinks
Cuisine American, British, Canadian


  • 2 cuos whole milk
  • ½ cup black currant tea
  • ¼ cup freeze-dried black currants
  • 1 tbsp honey or agave syrup
  • 1/2 tsp vanilla (optional)


  • Put all ingredients in a mason jar. Put in the fridge overnight.
  • In the morning, give it all a good shake. Strain into a pitcher and serve up.
Keyword #blackcurrant, #blackcurranttea, #coldbrewtea, #icedtea

Iced London Fog

Aka Earl Grey Iced Tea Milk

Like a cold-brewed tea? Really reduces the bitterness and astringency. But have you tried cold-brewing your tea in milk?

I’m starting my day with an Iced London Fog. Cooling, thick and delicious, with just enough caffeine.

Pop 1/2 cup of loose-leaf, best quality Earl Grey in a mason jar. Add 3 cups whole milk, 2 tbsp of honey and 1/2 to 1 tsp vanilla (don’t overdo it). Give it all a good shake and leave it in the fridge overnight. Shake it again in the morning and strain before serving. Lovely over ice or straight up.

Fitness fanatics can add protein powder. Play with proportions to tweak it to your taste, but I promise you this is the smoothest iced tea latte you’ll ever have.

Drink in the Spring Flowers

Flowers have been a time-honoured ingredient in fine teas for over a thousand years. Jasmine-scented green tea is the most well-known in the West, of course. It is one of the original Chinese scented teas, traditionally crafted by hand in a meticulous and laborious process. But as oranges are not the only fruit, jasmine is not the only flower to entice tea drinkers with floral delights. 

Flowers have been used in tea making for thousands of years in China, the homeland of tea. Magnolia, chrysanthemum, magnolia, lotus flowers, even roses are part of many notable, time- honoured blends you may never have heard of. What better way to welcome spring, as you glory in the beauty of fresh spring flowers, than to drink flowers in your teacup as well?

Why try traditional teas? 

Traditionally, flowers are added, not to the finished tea, as they are today, but as the tea leaves are rolled and dried. It is a painstaking, days-long infusion, with thousands of buds laid on the tea. In the case of jasmine tea, the tea is stored for month, then the blossoms are laid out late in the day, waiting from them to bloom at night. These hand-picked, carefully scented teas have little in common with their frowsy, flamboyant modern cousins. 

Potpourri teas, as I call them, are popular nowadays. Dried petals thrown in with candied bits of anything-you-like to make new tea blends for the bored consumer with a restless palate. These bejazzled teas are often ham-handed in terms of flavour, using a bombardment of spices, herbs and dried fruits to disguise the flavour of inferior tea. 

Teas made in the traditional manner, however, allow you to taste the tea leaf as well as the flowers, balancing their perfume with the particular varietal of tea plant, and the skill of the tea maker. 

Not Just Jasmine

Here are five traditional teas you may not be familiar with, but will definitely help you welcome in spring: 

  1. Tie Kuan Yin
  2. Osmanthus oolong
  3. Magnolia oolong
  4. Rose Congou
  5. Violet Tea 

Iron Goddess

The first floral tea I’m going to suggest is one that doesn’t have any flowers in it at all. Tie Kaun Yin, also known as Iron Goddess, is an oolong made from tea leaves that have an incredible floral scent. 

(An oolong tea is not quite as light as a green tea, and not as dark as a black tea. Oolongs occupy a wide spectrum of colour, scent, taste and body, from floral and bright to dark and woody. They are hard to define, but much loved in all their many incarnations.) 

Photo by Timothy Newman on Unsplash

Tie Kuan Yin is both a cultivar—a particular variety of tea bush—and a process. The most famous Iron Goddess is made in the Taiwanese style. The leaves are picked and processed in such a way as to preserve as much of their floral scent as possible to produce a delicate cup. It’s got a unique mouthfeel, though, when brewed properly: milky and silty, almost as if very fine chalk had been turned liquid. Many oolongs have this creamy texture on the tongue but I’ve noticed it’s quite pronounced in a good Tie Kuan Tin. 

Tie Kuan Yin is often an eye-opener for people who are used to heavy black teas. It shows the incredible range of flavours and scents that can come right from the leaf, before you add in a single flavouring. It’s called a gateway tea with good reason. 

Tie Kaun Yin at Tao Tea Leaf

Osmanthus Oolong

This both hard one is hard to say and hard to find. It’s also likely unfamiliar to those who don’t eat a lot of Chinese cuisine, but this is my very favorite floral tea. Perhaps my favourite tea ever. 

This tiny, bright yellow flower is often likened to a peachy flavour, but I find it much more like butter biscuits and sweetened milk. A hint of geranium, maybe. In China it is highly prized and is used in jellies, jams, cakes, and liqueurs. It’s also known for its sedative properties and for easing digestion (but then again, so is all tea). The level of antioxidants in osmanthus flowers approaches that of green tea, and so may be similarly beneficial in terms of reducing inflammation, boosting the immune system and supporting better aging. It’s also a sedative, doubling down on the relaxing effects of theanine already present in the camellia sinensis tea leaf. The scent of osmanthus flowers was proven in one study to decrease the motivation to eat, which is a good or a bad thing, depending on your point of view. 

I’d drink this for the taste alone, but I do love the relaxation that follows a cup of Osmanthus oolong. It’s a tea I drink on a Sunday afternoon when I read a book, and the world is for a while the most wonderful place. 

Try this or this from Canadian tea purveyors, or this all the way from Mei Leaf in England. So worth it. 

Magnolia oolong

Magnolia is often the first tea I offer guests as an alternative to jasmine. Magnolia offers a gentle shift and a chance to distinguish subtle but real difference without taking you in an entirely different direction (like, for example, a vibrant and tart hibiscus.) 

Magnolia has not achieved the popularity of jasmine in the West and I’m not sure why. Perhaps it’s because it’s not as strong on the nose. It doesn’t hit you with that incredible, all-encompassing, gorgeous jasmine smell. It is sweeter and more subtle when you first breathe it in, but no less delightful to sip. It’s a little warmer, with hints of pistachio and orange blossom, and with a buttery taste. That honeyed sweetness is stronger to taste, too. 

Photo by Frame Harirak on Unsplash

Magnolia was once reserved for the royal family of China and is revered as a special gift. Modern studies have shown it has it’s uses in treating anxiety in menopausal women and is also used to treat digestive difficulties. In traditional Chinese medicine it is associated with strengthening the lungs, feminine beauty and personal growth. Sign me up for all three. 

Like many oolongs, magnolia tends to be sold in as rolled oolong, or in little balls, and thus benefits from several steeping as the leaves unfurl. I tend to brew magnolia oolong at around 90°C (195°F) with a large amount of leaf, then re-steep the same leaves in the tea I’ve just made. This strengthens each brew without fear of letting it sit too long to get bitter. It also encourages movement of the liquid through the leaves. I end up with a very yellow, rather thick-looking concoction that is quite flavourful.

If this sounds fussy, just wait until you have a work problem that’s stalled in your mind. Get up and pour your tea between two vessels back and forth, never mind about any little spills, until it seems right. If the process doesn’t help, maybe the tea will. 

Murchie’s Tea does a lovely version. Buy it here. David’s Tea has nice one, too. Buy it here.

Rose Congou

Rose scented teas appeared in China at the same time as jasmine scented teas, and they were produced in the same manner. Rose congou, however, is typically a black tea, whereas jasmine is usually green or white tea. The process is the same: the petals are laid upon the tea leaves to absorb their scent. Except that a black tea requires more withering, and so allows the essential oils to coat the tea leaves as they wither. 

Photo by Cloris Ying on Unsplash

As tea was introduced to Europe, rose congou (a variation on gong fu or kung fu) was very popular in England at afternoon tea, whether for the sweetness or the familiarity of the roses, one can only guess. Perhaps this is why we most often see roses scenting black tea. Or perhaps the warmth and depth of black tea is a more assertive partner to balance the power of the rose. 

Tea connoisseurs often recommend against milk with this tea, but if it is brewed quite strong, I’m happy to add milk and        even rosewater as a sweetener. Makes an exquisite warm cocktail with rose gin as well. 

Violet Black Tea

“That which above all yields the sweetest smell in the air is the violet.” —Sir Francis Bacon

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

We tend to think of violets as decorating a fine china teapot, rather scenting than the tea that’s in it. Or as a perfume, or a candied cupcake topping, but not an actual flavour in itself. Violet can be somewhat soapy, after all, and so the greater association with fragrance and skincare. 

Or perhaps that’s because New World violets are a different breed from the English violet, or Viola odorata – commonly known as sweet violet or wood violet. These are the violets that would have been used to scent teas in Victorian England, when violet tea was at the height of its popularity. And different again from Parma violets, which were the violet of choice in Edwardian England, and are still found in candies. 

Violet is an elusive scent, as it binds to our scent receptors, first to stimulate them, then to shut them down quickly so that we cannot detect it. Then, after a few breaths, it registers in your brain as a new stimulus, and you can smell it again. Violet leaves are also traditionally used in herbal medicine, but I’m definitely not recommending a tea made of those.  

If I can find violet sirop or essence, I’ll definitely buy it, but until then, violet tea is a lovely, old-fashioned seeming delight that speaks to afternoon teas of years past. It’s both novel and familiar, and tasty as well. 

Murchie’s once again is where I re-discovered this nostalgic treat.


Would you like to learn about more floral teas? There are so many! And please tell me about your favourites. The more I learn about tea, the happier I am. 

Happy sipping, 


Smoky Duck Breast with Tart Black Currant Sauce

Duck lends itself to sous vide cooking and strong flavours, so don’t think I’m part of a cult that only cooks sous vide and with tea. Although that’s not a bad basis for a cooking obsession. But I sincerely believe that this recipe is transformative to a duck breast in the best way. So don’t assume I’ve gotten lazy. Assume that you’ll love this.

As it is sous vide, it’s oddly easy to make on a week night, as you can make it ahead. Of course, with many people working from home, you could take a 10 minute break, pop the duck in the water bath and return at your convenience to quickly brown these darlings when you please. And dry duck breast is a tough, miserable business. Sous vide can keep it lower temperature longer, preserving the texture and eliminating the risk of over cooking.*

My husband loves every bit of this and eats the fat without hesitation. The smoky and salty flavours permeate the fat and flesh, and fill you up, so that all you need is a side green or a salad as accompaniment. Ina Garten’s mashed rutabaga is also perfect with this, but you don’t need it.

You simply wash and dry your duck breast. Salt it all over. Throw it in your cooking bag and pat Lapsang Souching liberally all over your duck breast until you’ve covered both sides. Pack it generously with fresh bay leaves and forget about it for a few hours. The tannins in the tea and bay leaf will tenderise the duck breast and infuse it with delicious smokiness, like duck bacon but meatier.

If you have time, chop an onion in a fine dice, put it in some melted butter in a pan, and stir it in. Leave it on low for an hour or two while you go back to work. When you are ready to brown your duck breast, you’ll have some lightly caramelized onions as a home base for some quickly sautéed Swiss chard. The bitterness of the greens is balanced by the sweet onions and rich duck.

I thank Kenji Lopez-Alt for his sous vide duck recipe. The man was an engineer before he switched to food. You can trust that his calculations are precise, and in the name of food safety I would never vary from his recommendations of cooking times and temperatures. That said, I stick to the very lowest recommended cooking time because I like my duck breast as rare as is permissible.

*(FOR YOU NON-SOUS VIDE BELIEVERS: don’t trust that sous vide cooking is safe? Read this by Cook’s Illustrated. New to sous vide? Read this by Serious Eats engineer-turned-chef J. Kenji López-Alt.)

Kenji is not a snob and so recommends IKEA Lingonberry jam with your duck breast. I don’t doubt him for a minute. Blackcurrant jam would be more French and is what I like, having had it on pigeon every chance I got in France. But I am trying to cut sugar, which is changing my palate. Also, most jam tastes more of sugar than fruit. So I have devised a sauce that has all the flavour of black currant, all of the sour, and as much sweetness as you like. But the black currant is the thing.

This dish goes well with a medium bodied, peppery red wine but is also just a fabulous with a Blanc de Noir. In Toronto this is pretentious. In France this is just Tuesday. We won’t be in France for a while, so let me dream.

The blackcurrant sauce is a reduction of freeze-dried black currents, although if you have fresh or frozen by all means use those. Black currants are high in pectin, which means a steep reduction doesn’t need any thickener. They are boiled down in red wine into a tart juice with fresh bay leaf, peppercorns and a shallot or onion. Much as I love all thing garlic, it doesn’t really work here. I have tried and it just doesn’t fit. You can add a little duck juice at the end if you can get it mostly separated from the fat, but you’ll likely just have melted duck fat in the pan, so skip it.

The resulting liquid is really very tart, but you taste the black currants first and foremost. Then you add a little honey, bit by bit, unless you have the right balance of sweet and sour. I tend to favour the sour, but you just do as you please.

Smoky Sous Vide Duck Breast with Tart Black Currant Sauce

Smoky tea and fresh bay leaf tenderize and flavour a duck breast. Sous vide cooking keeps from going beyond medium rare. Freeze-dried black currants dominate a red wine reduction without the excessive sugar of the more traditional blackcurrant jam.
Prep Time 10 mins
Cook Time 45 mins
Total Time 1 hr
Course Main Course
Cuisine Canadian, French


  • Sous vide appliance
  • Cast iron pan


  • 2 duck breasts
  • ¼ cup kosher salt
  • ¼ cup lapsang souching tea
  • 1 package fresh bay leaves
  • 1 tbsp vegetable oil
  • 1 cup freeze-dried black currants
  • 2 cups red wine
  • 1 tbsp black peppercorns
  • 4-6 sprigs fresh thyme
  • 1 shallot
  • 1 tbsp butter
  • 1-4 tbsp honey
  • 1 tbsp brandy (optional)
  • ½ tsp sea salt


  • Wash and pat dry duck breast. Rub salt all over. If you have time, leave them uncovered in the fridge overnight. If not, skip it.
    When you are ready to cook, preheat your water bath to 54°C (130°F).
  • Place in a Ziploc bag and sprinkle in tea, making sure to get tea all over every part of the surface on both sides of each breast.
  • Using half of the leaves from the package, line the sides of the bag with fresh bay leaf.
  • Lower into the water, letting all the air out, and cook for a minimum of 45 minutes, up to 4 hours.
  • Heat wine and black currants until boiling, pressing down on currant and stirring them in until fully hydrated. Add in shallot, bay leaves, thyme and peppercorns. Reduce heat to low and allow to simmer for about 15 minutes, or until reduced to ½ cup. Turn off heat. Let sit until ready to use.
  • When duck is done, remove the breasts from the bag. Brush off as much of the tea as you can. If it really sticks, you can rinse it off, but if you have a clean scrub brush, try that instead.
  • Heat oil in a cast iron pan set on high heat until smoking.
  • Add duck breast and cook until sizzling, about 2 minutes.
  • Reduce heat to medium and cook about 5 minutes, pressing and moving to make sure the skin is browned evenly. Flip and cook the skinless bottom until barely browned, about 30 seconds. Transfer to paper towel-lined plate and allow to rest for 5 minutes.
  • When ready to use the sauce, remove the herbs and strains out the shallot and peppercorn. You can add in a few more black currants if you like texture in your sauce.
  • Reheat reduction, adding in honey to taste. Add brandy, butter and salt to finish.
  • Slice and serve with sautéed greens.
Keyword #blackcurrantreduction, #duckbreast, #freezedriedblackcurrants, #sousvide, #sousvideduckbreast