Burgundy Duck

A brace of ducks dangled from a nail hammered into the porch beam as Lila regaled me, on an icy night right after New Year’s, with tales of the Swamp Witches, six accomplished women dedicated to hunting and to each other. For more than a decade, these ladies have gathered a couple of times each year out at Ward Lake Hunting Club, a 6,500-acre preserve running right along the Mississippi River. They eschew newfangled duck boats, favoring canoes to haul their decoys and gear. Eyeing the sky from beneath the brims of their chic tartan-banded hats, these experienced hunters can call a mallard by its wing action. They aren’t pantywaists. Lila is what you might call a spitfire, an avid fox hunter and competitive show jumper all of about five feet tall, with a fiery mane, emerald eyes, and a wicked sense of humor. She has trained her seven-year-old retriever, Tuff, to do many things, from stopping dead in his tracks at her command to tossing a biscuit posed upon his nose into the air before gobbling it up. One dinner, in the course of telling a tale about a previous season’s hunt, Lila slapped the table for emphasis and said “kennel-up” as part of the story. With that, Tuff instantly bounded up on the table, sending wineglasses flying. We all about fell out of our chairs with laughter as Tuff stood baffled on the dinner table in a puddle of Burgundy. This recipe is dedicated to the Swamp Witches: Allison, Susan, Kate, Lind, Leigh, and Lila; I have fallen under their spell.