The time: 7pm

The place: Midtown Manhattan.

Let me set the scene.

John was taping Jimmy Fallon. Blah blah music music, funny jokes, 30 Rock. We leave Jimmy Fallon. At 7. I say, “To the butcher!”. Ottomanelli & Son’s was my goal. I had made a bunnnnch of phone calls yesterday morning, desperately looking for duck fat to make crispy potato and garlic cakes from Gwyneth Paltrow’s cookbook (I KNOW, I KNOW)

I thought it would be much easier than it was. Me being me, I of course did not want to leave my area of the east village to venture out for duck fat. So I figured I’d just wait until we had a car from Fallon (yes Fallon, you paid for this duck fat venture) since it was absolutely disgusting out yesterday.

I don’t know why, but I assumed butchers had…oh I don’t know…normal human being business hours. But I guess not.

Ottomanelli & Son’s, the one place I called that actually had it (an abundance of it, as well) was closed.

Also I have no idea why I am writing this like a dramatic story but let’s go on.

Last week, I found myself cooking from the Momofuku Cookbook…which is one of my favorite things in the entire world. It’s one of those books where the ingredient list looks simple enough, but then it tells you that you need kimchi, and the recipe for kimchi is 50 pages back, then the kimchi needs a certain ingredient, and that recipe is another 20 pages back. Now, it’s not the kimchi recipe that calls for this tediousness, but many of the recipes do, and can get complicated (but SO WORTH IT, you are soooo proud of yourself). But I was making kimchi brusselsSSSS sprouts and found myself in the situation where I didn’t have 2 days or a week to let it sit so out I went, to Momofuku itself.

Now, I had my birthday there. I go there, alone, all the time. I go with John all the time. I think of myself as sort of obsessed with the place, so I can’t imagine what the employees think of me. But I went in, asked for kimchi, and bam, they gave me kimchi. Cheating? For sure. I still can’t take credit for dem mini cabbages.

Anyhow, you can tell what I’m getting at here. When I think duck fat, I think Momofuku. So off we went, and minutes later, not only did I have duck fat, but I had a LOT of it. A TON. Like, I could bathe in it. I LOVE MOMOFUKU. Have I said that before??

So here’s the fun part. EVERY single recipe I make for the next week or until I am just plain out of duck fat, will be recipes with, well, duck fat. An homage to my dear friends at Momofuku.

Oh baby baby.