I live in the Bay Area. I can drive to a boutique charcuterie less than an hour away and load up on duck confit; we usually get legs because I like dark meat and they're so useable.
We ate up the last of our duck confit the other day. It freezes well, but it will not last forever if your winter diet includes cassoulet.
Oh, wait! I'm thinking winter salad, too. With shreds of duck leg. Oh, I have to try that soon.
But I need the confit. Which means a drive to Napa, to The Fatted Calf. Which probably also means a lunch at Ubuntu. Which sounds very Christmassy, come to think of it, even if it's not Christmassy at all. Just festive and wintry.
So what's stopping me?
She is slowly becoming accustomed to staying alone, but we haven't tested her for the length of time it would take to do the Napa trip.
I say, what the hell. Leave her.
I gotta get some confit.