Stock
I am obsessed with making stock. It appeals to my sense of frugality – what better than to create a whole new ingredient from one you have finished with – but also to my love of richness of flavour. There is nothing finer than a dish built on firm foundations, adding layer upon layer of flavours, building depth and nuance. Good stock truly is magical.
There are many and varied types of stock from a light vegetable (not one I make much use of, I’m afraid) through light and dark chicken stock, onto dark and meaty beef, gelatinous veal and pungent lamb. Not forgetting game birds with their earthy flavours and of course fish – not for those who dislike a lingering smell in the kitchen.
The stock I make the most use of is chicken, although if I can get hold of it I’ll throw in a veal knuckle or even foot for that lovely jellified end product that contributes so much more to whatever you cook with it than an insipid, liquid version.
The other thing about stock, of course is that it is INCREDIBLY good for you. Long cooking allows all those nutritious vitamins and minerals to be drawn from the bones and vegetables in the pot. With a luxurious layer of fat left on top it is a meal in itself, with a few vegetables, herbs and odd pieces of leftover meat – maybe a handful of grains or pulses or noodles thrown in and you have the most restorative bowl of goodness in front of you.
Instant meals aside, stock forms the base of all my soups, my stews, my risottos and my gravies. And, reduced and salted, I can persuade my children they are drinking liquid Marmite – a cup of warm stock is the most effective way I know of warding off the viruses that rampage around school classrooms.
Making stock seems to scare people but it only takes time, not effort. That said, don’t ever think of the stockpot as a rubbish bin – use vegetables you would be happy to eat, aesthetics aside, and use the best quality bird you can find – the more exercise a chicken has had the better the bones, thus the better the stock. And as it takes the best part of a day of simmering it is worth making enough to fill the freezer for a fortnight. Use the biggest pan you have.
A word on giblets: if you can manage to buy your (good) bird from the butcher or farmers market, you should be offered, or be able to ask for the giblets – say yes, they are an enriching addition to the stock pot.
Chicken Stock (makes as much as your pot will hold)
The leftover carcass from a Sunday roast, the best of the meat pulled off, with giblets.
For a greater quantity, more gelatinous texture or deeper flavour, add any or all of the following: a second chicken carcass, veal knuckle, veal foot, marrow bone.
Add (more bones, means more vegetables):
2-3 scrubbed carrots, chopped into 3 pieces
2 quartered onions with skin left on to give the stock good colour
2-3 sticks of celery chopped into large pieces
1 large leek cleaned of grit and dirt
A few cloves of garlic
A small bunch of parsley
2-3 bay leaves
A small bunch of thyme
A teaspoon of whole peppercorns
A little olive oil
Splash of white wine
Find the biggest pot you have. Put a small amount of olive oil in the bottom of the pan and add the chopped vegetables and garlic. Allow them to soften slightly and release their flavours then place the bones on the bed of vegetables. (For a really rich dark stock you can roast the bones in the oven first until golden brown).
Stir the bones around in the vegetables for a bit to pick up the flavours then add a splash of white wine and let it bubble up. This both deglazes the pan with all its lovely bits and the acid in the wine draws the best minerals out of the bones.
Add around 4 litres of water or until your pot is almost full to the brim, then tuck the herbs in wherever they will fit.
DON’T add salt, just uncrushed pepper corns as the stock will reduce and you don’t want it too salty, particularly if you are going to make a gravy with it in the end.
In practice my chicken carcass and remaining skin are often a little salty from cooking so you get enough to bring the flavours together.
I don’t take the skin off my chicken carcass because I don’t mind a bit of fat in the end result but if you want minimum fat (alas, this means minimum flavour to my mind) take the skin off and particularly the fatty parson’s nose.
If you LIKE fat and the flavour it gives, try adding a marrow bone which will release all its luscious goodness into your stock.
Bring to a boil so that a grey skum rises to the surface. Skim this off as best you can then turn down to a gentle simmer. You really only want your stock quivering and certainly not bubbling. As it simmers oh-so gently all the impurities rise to the top and you can skim as you happen to notice they are there. If it boils all these nasties get dragged back down into the liquid giving a murky, impure stock.
Allow to shudder and shake (you really should have to look closely to even see movement beneath the surface) for up to five or six hours or until it has reduced a quarter to a third of the way down the pan.
Remove the biggest bones with a slotted spoon then strain the rest into a clean pan and allow to settle and cool.
It’s not worth removing fat – if you choose to do so – whilst the stock is hot as an overnight stay in the fridge will allow it to solidify and lift cleanly off. Will keep for 5 days in the fridge or freeze well.
Spelt and leftover chicken ‘risotto’ with chicken stock (Serves 2-4)
Leftover chicken from a roast – as much as you’ve got, look right under the bird for extra nuggets of yummy flesh
1 onion, finely chopped
1 cup spelt (or risotto rice or barley or farro . . . )
Handful finely-chopped parsley
50g butter and tablespoon olive oil
Splash of white wine or vermouth
1 litre chicken stock (you may not need it all, or occasionally slightly more)
Parmesan to serve
Salt and pepper to taste
Gently fry the onion and some salt and pepper in the butter-oil combination.
When the onion is soft and translucent add the spelt and allow it to soak up the flavours.
Once the spelt is glossy add the chicken and let cook a few minutes.
Turn up the heat and add a splash of wine or vermouth and allow to hiss and bubble up.
In a separate pan heat the stock so it can sit and gently simmer. ‘Feed’ the spelt with ladlefuls of stock until it is cooked; it should be nutty to the bite.
Turn the heat off and stir a couple of handfuls of grated parmesan, the chopped parsley and a knob of butter.
Season to taste.
Recipe Card
September 1st, 2010 at 4:02 pm
[...] use every last scrap of this bird, serving a feast with bread sauce then making the bones into stock (something you should do with all your roast carcasses for economy and taste) and perhaps making a [...]