I’ve developed an unfortunate habit. It’s quite embarrassing, really, but still I persist:
I want your bones. All of them. The bigger the better. I will probably ask for yours in public. Please don’t try to fight it.
Perhaps I should explain.
In the last few months, I’ve formed a tiny obsession with homemade stocks. The understanding that bones + water + vegetables + herbs + time = liquid splendor has been revelatory. I don’t fuss over details: I use the bones, herbs and vegetables I have on hand. This way, each batch is slightly different, but always wonderful. I freeze the results in ice cube trays, and use what I need for soups, pan sauces, risotto, rice. Good stock gives new life to vegetables, mashed potatoes and leftovers alike. Read more