Chicken Stock — There and Back Again

liquid gold

Want to make good soup? Make your own stock. The store bought stuff smells like dog food, and once you cook your own, you'll agree. So if you like soup, and you like being happy, listen up!

Broth is the base of soup, the better it is, the better the final product. Your homemade stock will taste so fresh and so clean, Outcast won't have nothing on it. Seriously. The difference is huge and you have no idea what you're missing!

There is no science to stock. I detest the taste of dill, I don't use it; my roommates love it, they do. However, and I know this might come as a shock, chicken is the most important ingredient, and I want to go over the various ways to get that most important flavor into your liquid gold.

Chicken Bones. When you're done roasting chickens, remove the meat, save the bones, pop them into a freezer bag, and into the freezer. Chicken bones older than three months, I toss. The big downside to this approach is that the chicken is already cooked and meat removed. The taste it leaves behind is tepid at best. I need at least three carcases in my four gallon pot to make this method worth while.
Giblets. I use these in conjugation with the bones. It's that little packet inside the chicken—neck, gizzard, heart, and liver—that thing you've probably never used before. It's high time you did. These give great flavor to the broth, and I highly recommend using them. But a warning; apparently the gallbladder can be attached to the liver, though I've never seen this myself. It's a tiny sack which should be obvious if looked for. If present, remove it, being careful not to puncture the bag, taking off part of the liver if needed. Also, if you took my advice and made fried chicken, the butcher should have given you the ribs when you asked him to take the breasts off the bone. Use them. Anytime I have chicken bones untouched by saliva, I freeze them, especially uncooked. Or non-human saliva, avoid that too.
Poach a whole chicken. I don't do this. For best practices, look elsewhere. That said, the idea is to put a whole uncooked chicken in the pot. I've seen recipes say say throw it out after, which is stupid. I'm a use-the-whole-buffalo kind of person, and not getting full use of a chicken by discarding the meat is highly offensive. There are starving people all over this world. Don't do it.

The simple ingredients

Thawed chicken caracas, 2
Thawed giblets, 2
Carrots, 4 large
Onions, 3 large
Celery, 5 ribs, with leaves if doable
Head of garlic
Thyme bundle
Bay leaves, 7
Black peppercorns, 12
Salt, 2 tablespoons
Olive oil, 1/4 cup

And now, ladies and gentlemen, the easiest recipe of all time...

1) Put the olive oil in the pan, turn the heat to medium, and brown them innards and uncooked chicken parts! Five minutes a side. Sprinkle a litter salt on those babies. Remember, browning is one of my rules, don't skimp. You're making chicken stock, let's make it taste like chicken, shall we.

2). Cut up your veggies. Don't cut anything too small! Bigger pieces are easier to remove at the end, and less work now. Hooray! For the celery, I like to use the leaves, but that's not usually an option. Unfortunate indeed, because they are full of flavor. Lastly, on those onions, I take off the paper but leave the hairs.

3). Veggies, into the pot, and stir. Despite my rules, you will not be browning these, just make them sweat a little. The goal is to start releasing their flavors.

4) Add the chicken bones when the veggies are fragrant,and stir. Some say break the bones to add flavor. I usually snap the whole body in half. I wouldn't advise taking a mallet to them because you'll have little bones in the pot, and all over your kitchen.

5) Add water. How much? I don't know. I just fill up the pot, one inch short of the top. Like I said, it's an art. If you have too much water and not enough flavor after seven hours later, cook it longer. The water will continue to evaporate, and you'll be left with stronger tasting stock. FYI, I'm using a four gallon pot.

6) Drop in the seasoning—thyme bundle, bay leaves, peppercorns and salt.

7) Bring to a boil, then let that baby simmer for 7 hours, stirring all along the way. Start tasting 4 hours in, keeping tabs on your flavors. Over this entire process, the water level will drop significantly; for me, usually by half. Some people say to skim the scum off the top. Nonsense. I just stir it back in. Later, when your stock cools, fat will rise and solidify on the surface—easily scooped, if you so desire.

8) The dismount; remove the pot from heat, and let it cool. I won't sugar coat it, this is a pain. Up until now you've put in minimal effort. Here's your problem—everyone's will be different, depending on your tools—get your stock into easily storable, freezable containers. You must strain out the solids, and some, like the thyme leaves, are small. For my method, I use a slotted spoon for the big pieces, pouring the remaining stock through a fine wire-mesh strainer, which I am constantly declogging, until finally, the business is done and my trash can is hot and steamy.

9) Freeze for up to 3 months, or refrigerate up to one week. I always bring my stock to a boil before using it, which is usually part of the next cooking process anyway. Great work, you won't be disappointed!