Bourdain's cookbook begins with an Introduction followed by a chapter on General Principles, within which there are four distinct parts. The general gist of the Principles is to:
- plan and practice mise en place,
- use quality ingredients,
- buy a good chef's knife and take care of it,
- and if you want restaurant-quality soups, sauces, stews -- or any other dish for that matter, make your own stock.
Mise en place is a given. Cooking or baking is nightmare if you don't plan and have everything at the ready. Buying quality ingredients and a high-end knife though are things that simply come down to money. If you have it, you can buy the organic chickens and sweet knife; if you don't, you might not even be buying chicken. I recognize I am fortunate: able to purchase decent food, sometimes splurging on expensive cheeses, spices and seafood. Overall, I am fairly frugal and attempt to maximize on what I buy, a perpetual goal I'm always working toward bettering. That's where stock comes in.
Yes, I made beef stock once but it'll be chicken stock that will be a regular thing around here. After all, I tend to buy whole chickens anyway where beef bones are something I have to buy specifically. Stock takes a little effort, a fair amount of time, patience, and as Bourdain blatently stated, space.
While I could exercise patience and effort, it's space that's a problem. My freezer is always a mish-mash of various things too often forgotten. My hope this year is to utilize my space in a better way to bring more flavor into the dishes I prepare, simultaneously reining in my tendency to over-buy and ultimately reducing waste.
Bourdain wrote paragraphs describing types of stocks and how to use them, providing detail in particular regarding how to make veal stock. I am going to go on ahead and make chicken stock according to the veal stock directions. After all, Bourdain says, "The process is the same: Roast your chicken bones and vegetables. Toss in pot. Cook. Treat as above [veal stock]."
Now I'll get on with it.
Dark Chicken Stock
adapted from Les Halles Cookbook
4 medium white onions, peeled and cut into chunks
2 carrots, peeled and cut into chunks
2 celery stalks, trimmed and cut into chunks
fresh thyme sprigs
peppercorns
2 bay leaves
Preheat the oven to 350°F.
Pat chicken pieces dry. Lightly oil a 12x17" half-sheet or large roasting pan and place dried chicken on it no more than two layers deep.
Preheat the oven to 350°F.
Pat chicken pieces dry. Lightly oil a 12x17" half-sheet or large roasting pan and place dried chicken on it no more than two layers deep.
My four chicken frames, three backs, three necks and large number of whole wings and wing tips were crammed onto the baking sheet in one tight layer.
Roast the bones in the oven about two hours or until nicely browned -- not black, flipping once about half-way through.
Meanwhile, toss the roughly chopped vegetables* on a second lightly oiled baking sheet and roast, stirring regularly until evenly browned, approximately 45 to 60 minutes.
*The volume of vegetables is supposed to be approximately 1/3 of the volume of chicken. I might've been a little light here.
Transfer roasted bones and browned bits (and in my case, the fat) as well as the roasted vegetables (minus black onion pieces) to a stock pot and fill with cold water.
Toss in the thyme, peppercorns, and bay leaves before bringing the the mixture to nearly a boil, then reduce the heat to a slow simmer.
My pot took about 40 minutes before small bubbles came to the surface and I began moderating the heat.
Skim foam, scum and fat from the top of the mixture occasionally over the next 8-10 hours.
This is about 1/2 cup of fat removed within the first 30 minutes. By the end of cooking and skimming, I had nearly one cup.
Remove the majority of the solids from the stock.
Strain the stock through moistened cheesecloth draped over a colander seated inside another pot.
Bourdain didn't mention anything about heating the stock during straining, but I was hoping it'd accelerate the process a little while I prepared for the next straining.
The strained liquid was heated gently until the fatty goo began to congeal around the edges of the pot, about 10 minutes.
Meanwhile, I washed the original stock pot, situated the colander over it, moistened fresh cheesecloth and draped it over the colander before straining the liquid a second time.
I continued this pattern, washing the dirty pot, situating the strainer, draping cheesecloth, and straining -- for over an hour. I think I strained about 5 times before I ran out of cheesecloth and did a final strain in paper towel.
The stock was transferred to a clean 8-qt pot and allowed to cool before it was covered and placed in it's entirety in the refrigerator.
When I made beef stock the aromas in my apartment were enough to make me salivate almost constantly and this chicken stock did not fail in that capacity. While not difficult to carry out, it was definitely, as anticipated, time consuming. The stock was clear yet very dark in color. Tasting the final result, I realized it was absolutely worth it. The stock was rich in flavor, yet pleasantly clean tasting, if that makes any sense. I'm quite pleased with how this turned out.
Now I'm certain that my beef stock attempt could've been MUCH better had I used more bones and let the stuff simmer a few more hours. I didn't go into much detail about how the beef stock turned out flavorwise because I didn't know what to expect. That's what it's all about right, learning?
Cost:
- chicken frames, necks, and wings: leftovers, so $0
- onions: $3.32
- carrots: $0.50
- celery: $0.34
- thyme: $1
