Chicken Stock Part Deux...

The other day, I started to write about how to dissect a chicken and make stock, and though I would have liked to complete that post, I am often frustrated by how blogger inserts line breaks with no apparent rhyme or reason, ALL THE TIME. And because I'm in no position to replace this mac should I strangle it to death or throw it out the window in complete frustration, I give up. Fixing the convoluted html is not an option because as soon as you fix it on the back end, blogger goes in and inserts yet more line breaks, with yet more convoluted code, just because it can.

Caldo de Pollo...

So while I'm deciding whether to move to a more predictable platform, if one exists, or to continue here and just figure out a workaround, I often publish my posts short of complete information to spare myself the consequences of First Degree Laptopslaughter. 

But I digress...

... Mashed Potatoes...

Might be hard for some to believe, but there is often heated debate about what makes something a stock and not a broth. Once that's established, there's even hotter debate about the proper way to make it. Roasting bones, fashioning a bouquet garni (booKAY gahrNEE) out of very specific herbs, simmering 'til the chickens come home... And all for good reason within the context of certain food cultures.


But as with any debate that becomes academic, credible arguments are made from many sides. And a cook, especially one who writes about cooking, for practical purposes, has to draw lines in the sand for herself. So all those very detailed, valid and academic arguments included or aside, I tend to make the distinction between stock and broth in two related things: 

1) the addition of salt, and 

2) whether the flavor of the liquid is such that I could serve it as soup or consomme by itself.

And since I use my stock as a base or cooking liquid for soups, sauces and starches from a number of cuisines, I not only never salt my stock, but I barely flavor it with any other elements. And come to think of it, the more I use it, I less I am inclined to add anything but the bones, fat, skin and some flesh. 

... a super simple and lightly buttered risotto...

... even instant tom yum.

All made richer and tastier with a little chicken stock.

Sometimes I'll add an onion and maybe a single carrot, because onion is a truly ubiquitous ingredient throughout the world and because a single carrot lends some sweetness without too much distinct fragrance or flavor. In this particular series of pics, also one (and only one - a little goes a long way on my palate) stalk of celery. And that's only because celery gets such little play in my kitchen that a whole bunch, bought for the purpose of making potato salad, will never get used if I don't take every reasonable opportunity to use it. Finally, never any herbs. The simpler my stock, the more adaptable it is, and equally easy for me to use in a pot of pho broth, or tom kha gai, or chili, or risotto, or gravy... I could go on.

And as to the long simmer (3 or 4 hours is often prescribed), which results in a lot of collagen extraction, greater reduction of liquid and higher concentration of flavor, as well as a thicker, more gelatinous substance upon cooling, I prefer a relatively short simmer. No longer than an hour to an hour and fifteen minutes to simmer 8 cups of water down to roughly 6-ish cups of stock. No question you lose some richness, but that kind of richness doesn't work well with everything. And a thinner stock makes for something closer to a one-to-one substitution for water (not exactly, but closer). Not to mention the difference between one hour and three.

One last thing before I post the almost not recipe. I'm not much of an arm twister. I figure if someone wants to make stock, they're going to. But if I can cajole for a moment, I will say that there is a worthwhile difference in depth and complexity of flavor when you substitute some or all of the water in many soup or sauce recipes with stock. And I'll take it a step further to say that there is then another very worthwhile difference between the very simple, pure and unadulterated flavor you get from homemade stock and one that is made to withstand months, years even, on a shelf. So, with no further ado, I release your arm and present you my barely recipe for chicken stock.

CHICKEN STOCK

Makes about 6 cups

You'll need a large stock pot or Dutch oven, and though I'm not big on most single task gadgets, a chinois (sheenWAH) is ideal to strain and filter the stock. If you don't have a chinois, you can also line a strainer or collander with a paper towel and slowly strain the stock, 2 or 3 ladlefuls at a time, replacing the paper towel halfway as it'll get clogged with whatever floaty things result from the simmer.

1) Take the carved up carcass of a whole chicken like I did here, OR 3 or 4 pieces of bone-in thighs (I find the dark meat pieces have more fat and flavor), or even better, chicken backs if you can find them, and place in a stock pot or Dutch oven.

2) Add whatever flavor components work with the style of cooking you like best or cook most. If your preferences are all over the place like mine are, you may find that just a quartered bulb of onion, or nothing at all, is best.

3) Pour in 8 cups cold water and make sure everything is submerged. Cold water is important because hot water can seize up the collagen, which lends the rich flavor and velvety mouthfeel you get from a good stock.

4) Bring the stock to a gentle boil over medium high heat, then reduce to low heat and simmer for about an hour or so. This is so far from rocket science.

5) Strain the stock through a chinois, fine sieve or paper towel lined strainer as described above.

6) Cool the stock to room temperature before refrigerating, about an hour or so, to keep bacteria at bay. The stock will keep in the fridge for about a week, several weeks in the freezer.

Liquid *YUM*

After several hours in the fridge (7 or 8), the fat will completely solidify into a thin layer atop the stock. You can easily remove this and discard, or, keep to add a little flavor to your sauteed veg and mashed or pan fried potatoes, or even a little extra tenderness and flake to your savory pastry doughs.

So little actual work to make the stock, and so much improvement to so many dishes. I'm probably preaching to the choir, but if you're not a member, I hope you'll join. :)

shinae

Girl Cravings & Genmai Cha Snickerdoodles...

I wouldn't call myself a sweet tooth. I mean, I like a good sweet for sure. But when someone calls themselves a sweet tooth, I assume they crave sweets far more often than I do, which is probably once a week or so, and almost never when I'm grocery shopping. Which explains why I never seem to have sweets around when I'm craving them. Which is probably a good thing in a way. Because I have a feeling I could learn to crave them more if I ate them more, if that makes any sense.

A girl's got needs...

When I do want something sweet, the fact that I am a crap baker (by neglect to some extent), means I rarely have the ingredients to bake anything too complicated. While I have been thinking about baking green tea sugar cookies for a while, when it comes to *baking*, unlike *cooking*, *thinking*, rather than *doing*, is usually the operative word. Add in the fact that I'm an hour and a half away from anywhere I can buy matcha, and the green tea sugar cookies are just gonna have to wait another month. or two. or three...

On the other hand, if I'm taking inventory of the foodstuffs that need to be consumed before we move at the end of the month and happen to find a box of genmai cha in the cupboard, and I have everything I need to bake a basic cookie, and I'm mad hormonal jonesing for something that resembles those sugar cookies I've been thinking about for way too long, I really don't have a choice but to bake these Genmai Cha Snickerdoodles.

green tea + toasted brown rice = genmai cha.
*Cha*, btw, means *tea* in 
Japanese, Korean and Chinese.

A lightly sweet cookie with that little bit of fluff and chew that I love in a snickerdoodle, paired with a hint of roasted, nutty genmai and mild green tea flavor. A little East meets West kind of treat that's extremely easy to make, and perhaps a little too easy to eat. It's a good thing the Man's good at disappearing cookies.

As with most cookie recipes, it's a good idea to bring your butter and eggs to room temp (20 minutes or so out of the fridge - less if it's a blistering hot summer day) before starting.

GENMAI CHA SNICKERDOODLES
Makes about 3 dozen 2-inch cookies

This recipe is essentially Martha Stewart's 2005 Holiday Cookie recipe, minus the cinnamon sugar, plus some genmai cha thrown into and atop, and with a few minor adjustments to size and bake time. But the concept would work well with any basic drop sugar cookie or snickerdoodle recipe. 

My notes/additions in italics.

• 2+3/4 cups all purpose flour
• 2 teaspoons baking powder
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 2 sticks unsalted butter, softened
• 1+1/2 cups sugar
• 2 large eggs
• 4 Tablespoons (about 8 packets) genmai cha for the batter
• 2 Tablespoons (about 4 packets) genmai cha to sprinkle atop

1) Preheat oven to 350F.

2) Sift together flour, baking powder and salt; set aside (if you have a stand mixer, you can do the sifting while the butter and sugar are beating). Put butter and 1 1/2 cups sugar in the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment. Mix on medium speed until pale and fluffy, about 3 minutes. Mix in eggs. 

3) Reduce speed to low; gradually mix in flour mixture and 4 Tablespoons genmai cha.

4) Shape dough into 36 1-inch balls. Space 2 inches apart on baking sheets lined with parchment paper (or a Silpat / silicone baking sheet) and sprinkle the tops with a pinch of genmai cha. (My silpat and baking sheets are in storage. I used the Man's scratched and banged up cookie sheet, and it worked just fine after I very lightly buttered and floured it.)

roasty, toasty sprinkles...

5) Bake cookies, rotating sheets halfway through, until edges are golden, 12 to 15 minutes. Cool for 3 to 5 minutes before removing from cookie sheet to avoid breakage.

I saved half the dough to bake off another time, and though it is hot as Hades up in this place, I think I'm going to make me some more cookies tonight. What's a little extra heat from the oven when you're sweating like a pig from making dinner anyway?

*oink*,

shinae

Vietnamese Street Tacos - A Dedication To An Inspiration...

I, and many others, lost a dear friend and mentor yesterday. And though I paid homage elsewhere, I feel I should pay tribute to him here as well. Because were it not for his constant encouragement to return to my bliss, even during and all through the 9 years I worked with him in a mostly unrelated but somewhat tangentially related field, I might not be taking this road - one that has always fulfilled, engaged, excited and contented me more than any other career path - today.

Pork country style ribs, fish sauce,
brown sugar, soy sauce, onions, garlic,
and just a touch of vinegar to tenderize -
all braised until fork tender... YUMS.

All day yesterday I thought about what I would make for dinner to honor Roger's memory, and it really hit home as I was wracking my brain, wiping my eyes, and blowing my nose, that food was nowhere near as important to him as it was to me. I mean, he spoke of the occasional homecooked meal, but he talked about canned beans and Taco Bell and Cup Noodles just as much. (A throwback to less abundant times, it seemed.) 

That realization made his support over the years all the more poignant to me. It wasn't much to him, but he saw past his own interests, valued what food gave to me, and encouraged me to seek the fulfillment it offered, even at the indirect but obvious expense to his own profitability.

So I ended up making some caramelized and braised pork, Vietnamese style, to make tacos with, because that's what was in the freezer. Though it wasn't conscious at the time, it seems fitting in hindsight as we're getting ready to move at the end of the month, to make good use of what was left. 

Despite a position that allowed him much greater indulgence and extravagance, Roger always liked to keep it simple and humble. If a hotel was clean and comfortable, that was good enough for him, even when his East Coast peers often liked to insist on the *best* the company's dime could afford. Some days, if a bag of trail mix and a Diet Coke were all that were handy for lunch, then lunch they were.

A fusion between the Vietnamese food I love all the time
and the Taco Bell Roger used to eat from time to time...

And while I had lost my cooking palate to the sad news earlier in the day, it was as if Roger blessed last night's cooking session. Because those tacos, with the sticky sweetness of the brown sugar and umami from the fish sauce in the pork, the crunch and tang of the quick pickled onions and carrots, the heat from the habanero/cilantro/lime crema, and the freshness of the cilantro and crisp red cabbage were humbly, and simply, delicious.

I hadn't talked with Roger in several weeks when he passed, but I'd like to believe that, through a couple of bittersweet blessings yesterday, he was talking to me.

shinae

From Dogs To Fish Tacos...

The other day, I read an article somewhere about how Maria Shriver's dad advised her to make the Governator get a dog early on in their relationship - and to scrutinize his treatment of that dog - because it would be a good indicator of his aptitude as a husband. Growing up, my mom also used to say that, no matter the personality, there is something redeeming in the character of a good dog owner.

Last night's tropical fish tacos...
And by that I mean tropical AND fish tacos
not tropicalfish tacos.

I think there's something to that line of thinking because, whether the ability to care is the chicken or the egg in that argument, I observe this truth in the Man every day. Buried beneath what appears to be an incredibly simple generalization is the understanding that it takes a decent and caring person who is capable of

• being selfless in moments, 
• anticipating the needs of others, and 
• having empathy and compassion (for a creature unable to speak your language, no less) 

to be concerned with the welfare, comfort and pleasure of another being, and ultimately to be a good partner in life. 

lo-carb version...

Whether it's waking up 2 or 3 times a night to cover the whiny wiener dog with her blanket, or surprising me with a slice of chocolate cake because I posted my hormonal cravings on facebook, or taking my son to BevMo to buy a 6 pack of some artisanal root beer just because he's enamored with root beer, the Man  proves my mom's (and Maria's dad's) point through lots of little kindnesses every day.

And though I often fall short of his thoughtfulness, I do try to remember to return the favor from time to time by making a meal I know he'll love. He generally loves deep fried things. And if those things happen to be beer battered fish wrapped in a corn tortilla with some crunchy cabbage, other fresh veg or tropical fruit, and one or more super hot sauces (he's a chili head), I can find a way to dethrone the Man's best friend, if only while we're eating dinner. 

Some folks like a thicker batter on their fish, which is not a bad idea if you need to stretch the fish out. But barring a shortage, I like my batter on the thin side, and I like it really crisp. I find that mixing starch (in this case corn) with the flour, using a light-flavored and golden-colored lager, and keeping the batter cold in the freezer between frying batches helps to achieve just that texture.

light, crisp, golden brown batter...

Yesterday, I served the tacos on corn tortillas (warmed stovetop) with some crisped red cabbage, my blended pico de gallo, a really hot habanero/lime/garlic "crema" made with sour cream and mayo, and some diced, supersweet mango to counter the heat from the chilis in the two sauces. It was simple, fresh and delicious, and I think it made the pooch jealous on multiple fronts. ;)

LAGER BATTERED FISH TACOS

Serves 4

• 1.5 pounds of flaky white fish (tilapia, snapper, halibut - whatever works. They all cook pretty quickly.) cut into 2-inch long, 1/2 inch thick strips and lightly seasoned with salt and pepper.
• 3 cups oil for frying (vegetable, corn or canola). BTW, you can save frying oil (refrigerated) and reuse a good 3 or 4 times before discarding. Just remember to keep the oil used for savory foods for the same purpose. Same goes for sweet/dessert stuff. Oil for fish tacos should probably be saved for another fish taco or fish & chips day.
• 12 to 15 5-inch corn tortillas

Batter

• 2/3 cups all purpose flour
• 1/4 cup corn starch
• 1 large egg
• 1 teaspoon baking powder
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1 teaspoon sugar
• 1+1/4 cup of lager beer (Corona, Bud, Kirin - doesn't matter), no foam (just under a full American 12 oz. bottle)

Sauces

• habanero/lime/garlic "crema" - zap the following in a blender 20 to 30 seconds or until smooth.

• 1/4 cup sour cream
• 2 Tablespoons mayo
• 1 habanero, rough chopped (habis, as they're affectionately called in our house, are VERY hot. If VERY hot is not your thing, you might try using just an eighth or quarter of the pepper to start.)
• 1/2 teaspoon minced garlic (about 1 very small clove)
• 1 tablespoon fresh squeezed lime juice
• 1/8 teaspoon salt

• blended pico de gallo (recipe here)

Garnish 

No hard and fast rules here. Just some suggestions.

• very thinly sliced cabbage (red or green) - I like to crisp the cabbage in a bit of ice water and drain well before serving.
• diced tropical fruit (mango, papaya, pineapple) to offset and balance the heat from the chilies in the sauces
• fresh avocados
• lime wedges
• cilantro sprigs

1) Prepare the sauces and garnishes first and refrigerate. You'll want everything else ready as soon as the fish comes out of the fry so you'll have nice, crisp fish tacos.

2) Slice and season the fish.

3) Prepare the batter by whisking all ingredients together in a mixing bowl just until smooth (and no more). Put batter in freezer to cool while oil is heating.

4) Heat the oil in a deep frying pan or Dutch oven to 375F (if you've got a thermometer) or until it's hot enough that drop of batter sizzles and rises to the top within a couple of seconds. Prepare a plate lined with a double layer of paper towels to soak up the excess oil from your fried fish.

5) Get the batter out of the freezer and batter 7 or 8 pieces of fish at a time and fry until golden brown, about 2.5 to 3 minutes per side. Put batter back in the freezer between batches.

6) When you're on your last batch, warm your tortillas per package instructions, or straight on a gas burner, like I do. 10 to 12 seconds per side, directly over high heat.

my favorite tortilla warmer

7) While your last batch is cooling, set out your sauces, garnish and tortillas. 

 

I like to use 2 pieces of fish per taco - just a logistical thing.

Delicious and versatile, perfect with a cold beer. And if you feed some to the dog, she'll be your best friend, too.

shinae

P.S. Those mango chunks up there are WAYYYY too big to put in your fish tacos. I just forgot to picturize the diced ones. Teehee!

How A Cheap Chick Dissects Cheap Chicken...

I talk all the time about my penchant for frugality. Well, I say *frugal*, you say *cheap* - and I'm ok with that. It's been a loooooong time since I've not looked at the price tag when making a purchase. Whether it's 5, 5 thousand, or 50 thousand dollars, I know exactly how much I pay for everything I buy, and I think that has a lot to do with the resolution I made early on in life to live within my own means so others couldn't, or wouldn't try to, dictate my choices for me.

I'm that gal who knows the per pound price for ginger root when the cashier doesn't know the SKU. When I bought "COFFEE & A PASTRY $2.99" at Whole Foods and they charged me $3.50, I asked why. (Well, "because your 2 dollar *cookie* is not a $2.25 *pastry*" even though they're all in the same display case under the big, fat sign that fails to specify *select* pastries and we all know WF has lawyers to vet that kind of stuff.) If I seemed pennypinching in the inquiry, I accepted the reply without fuss. I try not to shoot messengers.

And no, I'm not one of those misers who separates the plies on my TP to make 2 rolls. I don't embarrass my kids by wearing my clothes from high school that not only look ridiculous but fit so poorly it hurts (which is not to say I don't embarrass them in other ways). I tip 20 percent. I don't keep every last pie tin from every last pie that someone's brought over for dinner in case there's a war and they start rationing out pie tins.

But I do think frugality is a virtue. One that often goes hand in hand with a certain kind of humility and one often lost - sometimes by necessity - to our post industrial, time is money culture. There is no shame in looking for, or recognizing and taking advantage of, value. And in the paradigm of cooking deliciously,  there are few value propositions that exceed the good use of a whole chicken.

When I'm being specially resourceful, one whole, 5 pound bird (often available to me at $1/lb - I don't do the free-range, organic thing, but that's a discussion for another post - and it's not because I don't care about my health or the environment) yields:

- dinner for 4 adults with a variety of light and dark meat

- 6 cups of a light, all-purpose chicken stock to use throughout the week, (If you don't see the value in chicken stock, use it in lieu of water just once in your rice, soup or sauce.

- 2 or 3 meals for our wiener dog Honeydew

- 3 or 4 tablespoons of chicken fat, which is wonderful for adding a little flavor to sauteed vegetables or flaking up a savory empanada pastry, and

- enough chicken skin to fry up a little newspaper coneful of chicharrones to share with the Man over an icy cold lager

All these things will cost different amounts in different places, but the math is easy. A whole chicken, if you're willing to put in the elbow grease, will return your investment at least 7 or 8 fold in the final analysis.

But "What about my time?" you say. What about it? If you wanted quick and easy, you'd be cracking open a Hungry Girl book. She assembles delicious fat free, sugar free, flavor free meals in the time it takes to read one of my long winded posts. She'll save you all kinds of time. But I'm assuming if you've stuck with me this far, you don't think of your time in the kitchen as a sacrifice. Think of it another way: It's probably one of the least expensive and most useful hobbies you'll ever undertake.

Over due practice, you will save time. But assuming you're here because you love good food like I do (or you find the train wreck that is my life too compelling to avert your eyes), I enthusiastically encourage you to pass up that tray of thighs, or drums, or breasts (all of which cost at least double if not more), bag a whole chicken, arm yourself with a sharp knife and a pair of kitchen shears, and dissect the thing. It'll build your character, fatten your wallet, and satisfy your tastebuds.

DISSECTING CHICKEN & MAKING STOCK 101

1. Get a sharp knife, a pair of kitchen shears, a large pot, and a cutting board lined with a plastic grocery bag (makes for easier cleanup). Unwrap and drain your chicken in the sink, hind cavity side down, to get rid of all that funky raw chicken juice.

2) With the hind cavity facing you, (don't get all pervy on me now), pull out the neck and giblets. Neck goes into the stock pot. Giblets go in a separate bowl for whatever other purpose (usually a snack for me - I HEART chicken offal like nobody's business.)

3)With your shears, remove what I call the buttflap of fat from the back sides of the chicken, cutting out a V on both sides like so:

Throw those flaps in the stock pot. FAT IS FLAVOR.

4) Move on to the quarters (the thigh + drum piece). Pull one quarter away from the body and cut through the skin and about 1/4" of flesh. Pull the quarter another couple of inches until you hear a pop. At that point, you should be able to see the joint. Cut through the middle of the joint as you continue to pull on the quarter. Once you're through the joint, you'll be able to cut through the flesh and sever the quarter from the body easily.

Repeat on the other side, and your chicken looks like this:

5) Do the same with the wings:

6) Now, pulling up on the bottom half of the back near the tail (often called the Pope's nose - I don't know why), take your shears and cut through the thin rib bones on both sides.

My left hand was busy taking this pic. Otherwise,
I'd have been doing what I told you to do.

With both sides cut, keep pulling up at the bottom back portion, and you'll see this:

You can snip right through it and throw that piece in the pot too, and your chicken will look like this:

7) Same jobby on the upper back portion and chuck that into the pot as well:

8)  Flip the remaining whole breast and snip away what I call the boobflap fat in a V and put that in the pot too.

Check that trachea
or epiglottis
or whatever that is...

9) Feeling the center for the bone, cut slowly into the flesh on each side, keeping the knife as close to the bone as possible, to release each chicken boob from the breastplate.

Continue cutting slowly, knife against the bone, and remove each breast. Throw what's left into the pot.

!VOILA! You've dissected a whole chicken and should feel bloody righteous about now if you've never done it before.

Dissected chicken - *WOOT!!!*

Back in a bit with the quick stock (hardly) recipe. 11:49 and I am *STARVING*.


shinae


P.S. I do know the difference between *cookies* and *pastries*, but I wouldn't be the first one to call hokey on Whole Foods' pricing/signage practices.


06.24.11 - Chicken stock recipe posted here.