Chicken Soup (with no chickens in it)

When my vegetarian child is ill, his one concession & only request is homemade chicken stock, so long as it has “no chickens in it.”  This makes for tedious straining, but results in a clear mass of liquid gold.

Here’s how it goes:

Maybe you have a ziploc bag in the freezer, full of chicken bones & carcasses from previous roasts & dinners, because you have inherited your Lithuanian grandmother’s Depression-baby tendencies & save bones (see also: rubber bands, aluminum foil, sugar packets).  If so, take them out of the freezer, rinse, & toss them in a good, tall pot.  You should have at least 2-3 carcasses/4 pounds of bones & bits.

Or

You’ve already exhausted all but one freezer-carcass, but the supermarket has roast chickens on sale.  Buy two.  Let them cool, strip the meat & reserve in a tupperware for later.  All the bones & bits go in a tall pot, with the freezer carcass/bones.  Consider adding wing tips (good) or a few chicken feet (better — & these days, you can find them anywhere from Asian markets to Whole Foods); both are rich in collagen & will result in a velvety, rich broth.  Add cold, filtered water, enough to cover everything by an inch or two.

Put bones & water on stove.  Heat, bringing it just barely to a boil, then immediately reduce heat so it gives only the slightest indication of simmering.  You don’t want bubbles, just the smallest murmur disturbing the surface of the liquid.

As it cooks, scum will collect on the top of the stock.  Skim it off, every 10-15 minutes, for the first hour of cooking.

After the first hour, add to the pot:
4-5 onions, skin on, cut in half
1 bulb garlic, cloves separated & smashed
Tablespoon of whole cloves
Tablespoon of whole peppercorns
sprigs of fresh rosemary, thyme, & sage
kosher/sea salt, to taste

No, not carrots.  Stock with carrots take on a sweet, carrot taste, & we are not making carrot soup.  & not celery, either, which is a useless vegetable when not a vehicle for peanut butter or hummus.  & not parsley, which turns the stock a sickly green & gives off a metallic, bitter flavor.  & not bits & ends of whatever wilted, sad produce is in the crisper bin or cupboard.  We are making stock, not compost.

After adding the veg & herbs, allow stock to continue to just barely murmur (not burble), uncovered, for 4-6 hours, or even longer.  Once or twice per hour, skim off fat/scum that rises to the top.  Taste the stock as you do, & add salt in small increments.  Otherwise, do not muck about or stir it up, or your end stock will be cloudy.  Yes, it will reduce; concentrated stock is good for flavoring recipes, & you can add back water to dilute it later when you’re reheating it to eat as soup.

When broth is tasty & done, turn off heat.  Place a Pyrex bowl/measuring cup in a larger bowl of ice water.  Ladle broth, in small batches, through strainer lined with cheesecloth (or, if you have no cheesecloth, coffee filters; it takes forever, but the result is worth it), into the Pyrex sitting in the ice bath (this to chill it down quickly).  Strain again, if necessary, to clarify the stock.  Pour strained broth into storage containers & refrigerate overnight.  The cheesecloth/coffee filter will have removed much of the fat, but some may rise & solidify on top when chilled, making it easy to take out.

The stock should have taken on a wibbly-wobbly gelatinous consistency — this is good, & is from the collagen in the bones (esp if you’ve added wing tips &/or feet).  The Jell-o-ness will dissolve when reheated (taste; if too concentrated, add cold, filtered water to desired brothy-ness) & will give the stock a rich, full-bodied mouth-feel.

Store in refrigerator for 3-4 days, or freeze in portions.

When reheating, be gentle — do not boil your stock to death.

When reheating, be creative.  Add things:  shredded chicken from the aforementioned carcass, chopped vegetables, cooked rice, Pennsylvania Dutch egg noodles (cook, rinse, & keep in fridge; toss in a handful or two as you’re heating the stock — do not store the noodles in the stock, or they’ll absorb it & everything will go gummy), spinach leaves, bits of fresh dill.

Or just heat a ladle-full of stock to a bare simmer, serve in mug to sick child.

if you have no croup kettle

from, :interstitials:, :ab ovo: avail. from SPD

who’s post-coherent now?

§

Croup is a spasm or swelling of the larynx, which usually comes
on during the night.  The cough is a barking one— then
suddenly the child finds it difficult to draw air into the lungs, &
not only becomes frightened himself, but alarms everyone near, as
he appears to be choking.  It helps him to relax if you act calmly,
even though you are frightened.  Hum a tune or sing a song.  If
you have no croup kettle, pick up a newspaper, two safety pins, the
child’s shirt, one of your long stockings, an umbrella, & the child,
& proceed at once to the kitchen.  Make a long spout funnel of
the newspaper (rolling it from one corner to another), then pin it
over the spout of a boiling teakettle.  Wet the shirt in warm
water, put it around the child’s neck, & hold it in place by folding
your stocking under his chin & tying it over his head.  Now bring
the kitchen table near the stove, with its teakettle & newspaper
spout which points over the table.  Sit on the table.  Hold the
child in your lap & open the umbrella over you both.  You have
thus improvised a croup tent.

§

from, Haunted Forest

X. So They Winked And Were Glad as the Day Grew Late

Gone beyond becoming, we filled
the house with phantoms & called
up monsters from the deep.

Buried the dagger, illuminated
the windows. Choked
the blinded alley with most
exquisite filigreed leaf
& vine. Making sense
of another dark night, I’m learning
to unwait.

from, Haunted Forest

IX. A Part of This World, and a World of Its Own

It was time as a color, or my
life, in miniature.

It was sunrise & my feet got wet
in the dew. It was all the moon
did, it was my hair, full
of secrets.

A pocketful of frogs, the girl who
gave birth to rabbits, the happiest
crocodile, & party hats for all.

Chris McCreary & Christian TeBordo: Book Launch & Reading

Celebrate the release of new books by Chris McCreary & Christian TeBordo!

Chris McCreary‘s book of poems, Undone : A Fakebook, is new from Furniture Press. According to Garrett Caples, “McCreary brings a tender swagger to his line, from popsong semiotics to lyric sequence to the mysterious ‘The Black Book’ mirroring the urban poet’s soul.”

Christian TeBordo‘s book of short fiction, The Awful Possibilities, is just out from Featherproof Books. George Saunders says, “Christian TeBordo shows that it is possible to be, simultaneously, a wise old soul and a crazed young terror.”

Saturday, June 5, 2010
7:00pm – 9:00pm
B2 Cafe
1500 E. Passyunk Avenue, Philadelphia, PA

There will be readings by both authors, & there will be free snacks & wine &/or beer. A good time shall be had.