PLYMOUTH - Preparing goose isn't the epic or complicated affair many cooks imagine. There are no special tools or culinary school techniques required, no Victorian secrets or mandatory oyster stuffings. Roasting a plump Christmas goose is a craftsmanlike act of simplicity, an all-but-abandoned holiday tradition. But a grand tradition it is.
Put a pair of geese in the hands of Martha Stone, chef and owner of the new Martha's Stone Soup at the Tavern, and you get two golden birds worthy of the most festive table. The chef, who offers goose on her restaurant menu this month, likes to capitalize on the strengths of this poultry. To appreciate that, first you have to understand that goose is nothing like turkey. Where turkey has lots of white meat, goose meat is dark - darker than duck - and its breast meat delicate, like a tenderloin of venison. Some call it gamey, but the gaminess is more of a suggestion than an assault. And the important thing to know about goose is that it's extra fatty. A single goose yields so much fat that it's a good idea to remove some of it during roasting. But that means that over New Year's and well into January, all your hash-browns can be sauteed in goose fat to remind you of the plump bird at your holiday feast.
Stone's goose weighs about 13 pounds, and once it's done, after releasing buckets of fat, the fully roasted bird is half its original weight.
"What people love and hate about goose is all the fat," says Stone.
The majority of the fat is concentrated in the skin of the bird. The two necessary tools for roasting a goose are a rack and a pan deep enough to collect the fat. Stone uses a 2 1/2-inch-deep pan, and she needs the depth for nearly two quarts of clear fat. At the very bottom of the pan the cloudy drippings and sediment collect; Stone turns that into gravy.
The simple roasted bird is salted (this helps draw out the fat), stuffed with the neck and giblets and chopped vegetables - carrots, onions, celery, leeks. She has roasted the bird all night in a very low oven, breast-side down on the rack.
Stone prefers to set the goose legs up like this because the fat and flavor in the leg bones can't drain out into the pan. She says that so much flavor is drawn from these bones and into the meat that she would never make stock from them - they have no more flavor left.
The roasted poultry falls off the bones; each forkful has several shades of plum and as many textures. Cutting into the bird reveals a glimmering web of soft, cooked fat throughout the meat. Stone might serve this with a pan gravy and potatoes roasted in the leftover fat, something she calls one of the "great delicacies of the world."
The chef loves rich food. On her menu at the Tavern, you'll find duck liver pates, homemade stocks, traditional French cassoulet. The tall, thin Stone hurries around the kitchen, making this slow food happen. The dining room of this historic tavern, which hosted travelers on their way from Plymouth to Sandwich, is small and warm, with a handful of long, family-style tables.
Stone, the daughter of zoologist Walter Stone, grew up at the Stone Zoo, named for her father, in Stoneham. Before opening Stone Soup, she ran Martha's Galley, a popular restaurant in Plymouth, for more than a decade. Many of her faithful clients are following her to her new venture.
To serve with the goose, Stone puts a tray of vegetables into the oven for roasting. They include squash, purple potatoes, and turnip. She cooks them in the goose fat, which accumulates quickly, so there's plenty right away.
As for a sauce, Stone says, "I like to think of things that are both appropriate to the season and that the animal itself might like." To that end, she prepares a dried wild blueberry and cranberry sauce with rich stock.
On the plate, slices of goose are garnished with the sauce and the colorful vegetables. On a good day, she takes the liver from the goose and turns it into goose liver pate, a drier and grainier alternative to duck or chicken liver pate.
In addition to pate, she'll make stock from the bones and cracklings from the skin. "When I have goose," says Stone, which is not very often, "I use it every way."
