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unday in the rice fields. A team of Balinese ducks in a breakfast battle fighting over worms and water hyacinth. Quacking, flapping and wobbling of crests: a shimmering vista of God's feathery creatures against an expanse of mirrored paddy fields. The air is deliciously crisp, the sky is azure blue, powder puff clouds float by and palm trees hug the edges of the fields. This is Bali at its poetic best.

I am mesmerized by the ducks and their eco-friendly performance in this open-air green theater. I feel like I am suspended in a kind of coconut heaven, somewhere between a picture-perfect land and an endless beyond .

There is something so special about Balinese ducks. You can't help but love them. Wherever you have rice fields, you will find these elegant, slender birds and when I first arrived in Bali, ducks waddling through town with farmer and white flag in tow was a common sight.

One of the oldest breeds of domestic duck, images of Bali-type waterbirds have been found carved in temples throughout Asia dating back some 2,000 years.

In Bali last month we celebrated Hari Saraswati, in honor of Saraswati, the esteemed goddess of literature, science and knowledge. Her consort, her Mercedes-Benz-chariot of the feathered variety, is none other than a swan that roughly translates in Bali as a duck.

On the following morning, the culmination of this ceremony is known as Banyu Pinaruh, resulting in a feast of smoked duck, Bebek Betutu, after a lengthy, soapy bath. And for ceremonies that require smoked duck, our family always orders these from Bapak Ketut Rimpin who lives in the area known as Jungut, just behind Casa Luna.

Over the years I have grown to love the complex, mellow flavors of Pak Rimpin's smoked duck, and my son, Krishna, has deemed it his all-time favorite dish.

As tender as a kiss; as a comforting as a soft blanket on a wintry day. I kid you not.

"When did you start making smoked duck, Pak Rimpin?"

Sitting on a small terrace in Pak Rimpin's neat, family compound overlooking the sangah, or family temple, I watched smoke from smoldering rice husks and coconut husks suspended in a dream or maybe a prayer.

"My older brother started making smoked duck in the early sixties. That was all he did back then, and maybe five were the most he would ever make in a day. Nowadays we make up to 25.

"After he died I continued the tradition. I took it over as a kind of warisan, inheritance".

"But what makes your smoked duck so special?" Believe me, I am a bit of a smoked duck glutton and I have tried it from a number of different places around Ubud and beyond. Pak Rimpin's is the undisputed best.

"Sing ngawang, I don't know." He laughed.

"What about coconut oil?" I asked. I am convinced that coconut oil is the absolute key to all things luscious from suckling pig to sambal, rather like olive oil for the Italians.

"I order pure coconut oil from the dagang, seller, in the market. I buy it fresh in small bottles, just three or so a day. The oil in the jerry cans is often mixed."

"And what about the spices?" I delved, determined to find some trade secrets.

"I pound them. I don't grind them. A couple of years ago I experimented with the spices and tried using a machine but it didn't taste good. Tidak enak!"

Bravo, I thought. I love these folk who are passionate about flavors, quality and fine ingredients.

"Hard work though?" I imagined pounding spices every day.

"My wife helps me and she is strong. I think you know her? She has big arms with lots of muscles." He held his arms up in a body-building gesture.

"Rather like Mike Tyson, ya?" We all chuckled. Apart from food, humor is surely one of God's special ingredients that cross cultures and break down barriers.

The process of making smoked duck is a vigorous one. The duck is first massaged with shrimp paste, salt and tamarind to tenderize the meat.

It is then filled with the pounded spices, coconut oil and various aromatics and wrapped like a present in thick coconut bark.

After that, the duck is nestled under a terracotta lid and covered - or rather smothered - with rice husks and coconut husks and set alight. Eight hours later, it is cooked to perfection.

In Hindu mythology, the duck is revered as a bit of an intellectual and spiritual hero as opposed to a comic cartoon character.

Ducks have a sophisticated filtering system that allows them to select the finest food from the quagmire of mud and bugs in the rice fields.

They have the ability to discern between good and bad, pure versus poison, mertha versus wisya. It is believed they represent the power of analytical thought.

And unlike some other birds, ducks are generally monogamous, choosing a quiet family life with the missus, rather than the Hugh Grant party lifestyle of their rambunctious cousin, the chicken.

Duck remains the esoteric culinary domain of priests, for it is said that what you consume cultivates your character. Priests only eat duck for ceremonies.

Certainly food for thought. Meanwhile, I will continue to enjoy smoked duck on special occasions and watch them feasting in the rice fields with affection. Blessed be the Bali duck.