Taking Stock, Making Stock

When we started to farm for a living, the way I cooked changed – more than changed, turned inside out. I used to start with the recipe and searched down the ingredients, clutching my Gourmet, hunting that spice only found in “specialty Asian markets.” Now I start with ingredients – what’s in the freezer, garden, cold storage, and what can I do with it.

I wish that I made the change because I had become a cook who had advanced beyond the cookbooks – hardly. It is much more because that “making a living farming” comment above is really a joke. There is no room in the budget for pheasant from France when I have three chest freezers full of Guinea hen from my backyard.

And I don’t have to be a very good cook to work in this “ingredients first” way – because when the produce is straight from the garden and the proteins are pasture raised and processed well, it is hard to wreck a meal – and even harder to justify doing much more than sautéing in butter (or bacon fat!) or roasting over potatoes.

Which brings me to stock – if you are cooking by following ingredients rather than recipes (or, the technical term, “winging it with what you have”) you have to have good, homemade stock around – for instant soups, sauces, braising liquids.

My favorite sort of stock falls into the category of Ghosts of Dinners Past – stocks made from the leftovers of a roasted bird, most deliciously, turkey (though I am becoming partial to roasted Guinea Hen stock too).

We had a 19 pound turkey on Sunday for an open house. As Nick carved it for the platter, he tossed the carcass into my stock pot. Later as we cleaned up, the extra garnishes from the turkey platter went in as well, as did the carrots and celery from a veggie platter (on Thanksgiving, we throw the leftover potatoes and brussel sprouts in too, sometimes broccoli, cauliflower, rolls – Nick swears he can taste Thanksgiving in the soups made from that broth, like a wine connoisseur tasting the Burgundy spring air in his plonk ).

The stock pot can sit quietly on the stove, carcass covered, during dinner or the party. At night, we tie the lid on and set it outside (if it is going to be freezing, might as well treat the world as your own walk in freezer). In the morning, it goes on the stove, filled with water, and covered. Do not salt – later you will want to reduce the stock down – and even later when you use it for who knows what, you may reduce it down more. Salt doesn’t reduce down, and your stock will be nasty salty if you start salting at the beginning.

At night, back outside to cool. The next day, I scoop out as much of the bones and other junk as I can and boil the remaining liquid down to at least on half, and often more than that. . Cool, strain, freeze. The next day (or when you use it), scrape the fat off the top.

And what to use it for – oh come on, EVERYTHING, but stay tuned. Saturday, I think I’ll use some of this batch to make one of my favorites, leftover soup.