Recently I was a part of a confounding conversation that is the inspiration for this post. The conversation that started all this was about stock. Stock. The simplest thing. They teach stock on the first day at culinary school. A pot, water, bones, valueless scraps of random vegetables and herbs. But the versions of stock that came out of this friendly chat was astonishing. There was confusion, rising panic about the method, the correctness of the ingredients, the muddling of the process and purpose. Something easy, thrifty and tasty was perceived as too challenging. I’m going to talk about stock, simplicity and reclaiming the knowledge for yourself.
Stock is everywhere in the food chatter at the moment. Not so much talked about as stock, it’s called bone broth now. The hipster and wellness crowd have jumped on the stock train and are riding high on the mysticism and allure of the elixir that will give you life and love at the same time.
The power of stock is it’s ability to provide essential minerals and nutrients from left overs, scrag ends and waste ingredients.That is what making stock does. Gelatin, collagen, all the trace minerals and elements of the bones and vegetables are leeched into the water. And there is no such thing as waste when you know about stock. Yet cooks are telling me they still aren’t bothering with it.
For me, the making of stock happens in the process of cooking something else. I don’t stop everything just to make stock. It’s part of my habit to do multiple tasks in the kitchen- maximising my time and productivity. If I’m hacking at chicken making baked wings for dinner, or have trimmed and tidied a whole bird to roast in the oven, the stock pot is on the back of the stove, poised for purpose. As I prepare the meat, the bones, wing tips and skin trimmings go in. Moving on, the scraps from the vegies for the roast go in, carrot tops, peelings, onion skins, celery and parsley stalks.
Sometimes stock making waits until after the roast is finished. I trim all the meat off the carcass to use later for soup or for lunch, break up the bones with my knife, or not, it doesn’t matter, pop them in the pot, cover with cold water and set it to come to the boil. Bay leaf and peppercorns are also added, maybe vegies if I’ve anything to hand, a dash of apple cider vinegar (so not necessary) and I leave it to do it’s thing. Once I see that the water is moving (catch it before it’s boiling) I turn the heat to low, grab my soup ladle and skim the froth and bubble from the top. The stock then sits, simmering away until it smells like chicken soup has happened. Strain the liquid off and refrigerate.
I store stock in large jars in the fridge, or freeze it in one litre containers for another day. That’s how chicken stock happens in my kitchen. The roast bones are used, instead of throwing them in the bin I throw them in the pot. Or the bits of wings that no one eats (tips, excess skin) are used, and we get full value from our meat money. Vegie scraps that suit slow simmering are saved and used. I keep a stash bag in the freezer, a zip lock, for any vegie scraps that are good for stock- green leek ends, carrot tips and peelings, celery roots and leaves. They collect there over time, maybe a week, maybe more. When the opportunity to make stock presents, in they all go. Same for bones. If I can see useful scraps but stock isn’t part of the plan that day, I freeze the bits and start plotting for the next time a stock can be made.
There are bone stocks or vegetable stocks. This fundamental is this- the stock water will have the flavour of whatever you put in it. This simple understanding addresses all the questions I am asked about stock- which vegies are right, which bones, what about the meat, cooked or uncooked. Following is the closest ‘recipe’ I can give you for making stock.
one pot, large enough to cover the bones and vegetables with water.
water, always, always cold from the tap.
stock vegetables– traditional vegies are brown onions, celery, including leaves and carrot. Leeks can be used. Then add bay leaf (1-2) and black peppercorns (5-10). Following the understanding that your water will taste like whatever you put in it, avoid bitter vegetables, skins and seeds, and scraps that will disintegrate when cooked. Specifically this means don’t use capsicum, zucchini, beans, cauliflower, broccoli, leafy vegies. If you have stems and scraps of those veg, save them for the soup you are going to make after the stock is done. They will be perfect for that. Parsnips, swedes and turnips are great in the soup, the stew, the curry you’ll make, they’re not for stock. Also no starchy vegies- this means no potato, pumpkin, or sweet potato, not the skins either. If you peel the skin off mushrooms, you can use those (skins, not mushrooms, although you can make mushroom stock- see my very next post!). I have seen chefs put tomatoes in stock, this gives it a lovely golden red hue but can add bitterness (from the skins). Try it out, see what you like. After all, it’s water and scraps, no great fail if you get it wrong, right?
herbs– same as for vegies, soft green fronds do not hold up well when cooked. Excessive green will give you green tinged stock. Herbs also are heavily scented, you need to think about whether this will complement the dishes your stock is for. Parsley stalks, bay leaf (and only one or two, even in a big pot) thyme stems, rosemary stalks (again, limit this, rosemary is strong and full of volatile oils that overpower) are all possible.
bones– beef, lamb, goat, chicken, quail, duck, rabbit, fish, I’ve used all these to make stock. I’ve been told never pork, but that may be cultural advice, not culinary. I’ve still never done it. Except ham hocks and bacon bones, for pea and ham soup. The quantity might be 1 kg of bones to 5 liters of water. Don’t be too absolute. Whatever fits in the pot you have. The more bones and vegetables you use the more flavorful your stock will be.
If using big beef bones, ask the butcher to saw them into bits for you as this gives a better chance to get the super nutrients out. The marrow makes the stock lip-smackingly and gelatine-y luscious. Importantly, you need to be able to fit them in your pot. Break up carcasses with a heavy knife, slice through joints, anything to break down the bones, cleanly.
Roasted bones or raw does not matter, some chefs claim. I was always told to roast the bones, so I did. Lately, I don’t.
If you roast the bones, and when golden brown lift them out of their roasting pan into the stock pot, you will get the brown stock chefs covet for making sauces and jus. The fat will have melted out, lessening the threat of getting a cloudy result. Cloudy stock is not travesty, it happens when fat emulsifies into the liquid. Cloudy stock is a sign you let the stock boil.
Method
Put all ingredients into the pot and cover with cold water. Bring to the boil, but catch it just before it gets there. Lower the heat so the pot is just ticking, a little bubble now and then, the merest shimmer of movement across the surface. Skim the top of the stock intermittently to remove floating scum and froth.
How long it is cooked for depends on the stock.
Timings: vegie and fish stock- 30 mins; chicken/ small game- 1-3- hours; beef/ lamb/ ham- from 4 hours to overnight. If you are long cooking beef stock, the water will evaporate. You will need to top up the stockpot with water, making sure the bones remain covered. You can make beef stock in the slow cooker overnight, too.
Strain the stock, cool and refrigerate or freeze. Use fresh stock within 3-5 days
