In 1994, my wife and I made our first trip to Paris. It lasted seven nights, and one or both of us have returned, if only for a couple of days, every year since. On that first trip we were tourists attempting to hit all the main sites in a single trip. We did get the “must see places” out of the way, and now we concentrate on lesser known sights or return to places we been before for a renewed look. While in Paris we often spend more time in markets and looking into shop windows than any of the more traditional places of sightseeing.

On the Sunday morning of our first visit, we headed up to Montmartre to walk around the neighborhood, see Sacré Cœur, and ride the Funiculaire de Montmartre. We had been warned by friends to avoid the area during most times of the day because of the masses of tourists and those that make a living selling to them. By arriving in the area about 9:30 that morning, we managed to avoid most of our fellow tourists. As usual, there were plenty of places to see where something of significance had happened, but that there was no sign of anymore. I was especially fascinated—who knows why—by one building described in our Michelin guide book as: “The Bateau-Lavoir. – This world-renowned artistic and literary Mecca, which disappeared in a fire in 1970 […] Now rebuilt as artist studios and apartments and located at no 13 in the delightful Place Emile-Goudeau, this small wooden building saw the birth in 1900 of modern painting and modern French poetry. It was here that Picasso, Van Dongen, Braque, and Juan Gris, created cubism — with Picasso’s famous Demoiselles d’Avignon — and Max Jacob, Apollinaire and Mac Orlan broke away from traditional poetic form … and expression.” It brought on the feelings of ethereal contact with famous personalities that historical sites always produce. (I once spent a week in the Presidential Suite at the Westin Hotel in New Orleans. Each morning, as I sat on the toilet, I thought about how Ronald Regan, in 1988, had occupied the same seat.)

As we were leaving the area on the way down the hill, the vendors were beginning to set up stalls. We saw one sparsely filled table with a couple of food items to sample and buy. We tried the homemade mustard and the magret de canard fumé. The thin slices of duck breast were a totally new taste for us, so we bought a package to take back to our hotel for snacking. I have since learned that this meat is actually cured and dried, and it may or may not be smoked even if the package says it is. In a side-by-side tasting, I couldn’t taste any difference between smoked and not. I have also learned that this meat is commonly served as a garnish for a salade composée, a common item at brasseries and museum cafés.

I tried drying a duck breast once in my kitchen about ten years ago, and it worked out fine even though the recipe I was following was a bit over complicated. Then last April, a friend posted on his blog his experience with dried duck, and I thought “There’s an amuse-bouche in there somewhere.” Also about the same time, I noticed a package of two, large magrets in my freezer that was due to expire. One of these massive duck breasts is enough for a meal for two, so I decided to dry the other one.

The concept behind drying most protein, be it fish, mammal, or fowl is essentially the same. The meat is first cured and then dried. The thinner the meat being dried, the less important the curing. I dry thin, less than 3-mm (1⁄8-in) thick, slices of beef in a dehydrator after only a couple of hours in a simple marinade. Thick pieces must be dried much slower, and must be cured to prevent spoilage before the drying is complete.

The cure can be wet or dry, flavored or not. For this duck breast, I simply trimmed the breast of any free hanging skin and fat, and packed it in coarse salt. I first chose a small plastic container that was just a touch larger than the breast, and added a layer of salt. The breast was then placed on the salt and enough additional salt added so that a layer covered the top of the breast. The lid was applied to the container, and the container placed in the refrigerator. This breast was fairly thick so I cured it for about two days. It was maybe slightly over-cured. My wife said it’s too salty, I found it okay. Next time I’ll probably cut the cure back to a single, full day.

Once the curing was completed, the breast was removed from the salt and the surface thoroughly rinsed and dried. The breast can be dried as is on a rack or hung. I sewed it into a single-layer, cheesecloth shroud and hung it from the top inside of my refrigerator. The shroud helped to keep the surface clean and caught any drips.

There was no agreement in the recipes I consulted as to how long to dry the breast. The drying time is a factor of breast size plus the moisture content and air flow of your refrigerator interior. Each day, I would give the breast a gentle squeeze—no comments please—in an attempt to judge how dry it was. As time progressed, the breast shrunk and became harder to the touch. When the progress seemed to slow or maybe even stop, I judged the drying to be done. The breast was then unwrapped from its shroud and packaged in plastic wrap.

For serving as an amuse-bouche, I decided to take as my inspiration a French duck-breast salad and serve the meat over some simple greens. The breast was shaved on the bias into very thin slices. Three slices were overlapped on my cutting board and the ends trimmed to create a square piece of meat. I took one leaf from the heart of a head of romaine lettuce, and cut it crosswise into very thin, about 1-mm (1⁄25-in) wide, strips. I prepared a four-to-one vinaigrette from a little olive oil, even less balsamic vinegar, fine salt, and freshly ground black pepper. A little of this was mixed with the shredded lettuce. I used a long, two-tine meat fork to spin small balls of the greens and place them on the serving dishes. The meat squares were then carefully placed on top of the lettuce piles, and the corners tucked downward to wrap around each mound. A smaller amount of the greens was then placed on each layer of meat. Very thin strips of duck breast were cut from the trimmings, and a single thin strip curled and placed on top of the greens.

We found that it was easy to pick up the entire dried duck breast salad with a pair of chopsticks and devour it in a single bite.