Chicken Stock

We've been eating soup around here, and it's a good thing, because nothing warms you up when it's -2˚F like good, homemade, hearty, warm, soul-inspiring soup. Honestly, we don't really care what type of soup it is that's warming us, but since we've lately been trying to keep our waistlines under control while hibernating, hearty broth soups have been the norm. Now, I've always love a good brothy soup, but there's one thing that will elevate broth soup to a tastier, richer, more exquisite plain than you thought possible, and that one thing is homemade stock.

Homemade stock seemed an unnecessary task and expense for the longest time. I mean, who has hours to sit, stirring, pot watching, straining, cooling, and packaging? I quickly learned that I have time to do that, because most of it is done without your supervision—10 minutes to chop and throw together, then a few minutes every now and again to finish up the process. THe biggest bonus for us, of course, is the cost. We buy our chickens for under $1/pound (get several when they're on sale and freeze them—you can put them right in the pot without thawing!) and the rest is mostly just cheap veggies. Here's the cost breakdown:

• 3-5 pound chickens=$15 or less
• Vegetables=$5
• Fresh herbs=$5 (or dried herbs you already have in pantry)
• Water=free

So, for $18-$25, you get the meat of 3 chickens, plus 2+ gallons of stock, which, when purchased separately, look like this:

• 3 pounds boneless, skinless chicken breast=$8
• 2 pounds boneless, skinless chicken thighs=$4
• 8 quarts low sodium, full-flavoured chicken stock=$24 minimum

$23 or $36? I know what I like better. And the best part is that I know what's in my stock, it's fresh, and much higher quality than that from the grocery store. You know how homemade chicken soup turns into jello in the refrigerator? That's because of the collagen and gelatin from the bones of the chicken. Store-bought stock doesn't do that, and even worse, you lose many of the great things about it because of that.

We've taken to making it each week in our giant canning pot with three chickens and plenty of water, but if you're not going to be soup crazy like us, you can make it in smaller batches (in a smaller pan!) and enjoy it in smaller quantities. The other option, of course, is to make just as much and freeze it for later use so you'll never have to buy stock again (or use bouillon, which is mostly just salt, anyway.) This is the recipe I've been using, followed by the ingredients scaled to a single chicken size for those that want less stock or have smaller pots.

Rich, Elegant, Delicious Chicken Stock

3 5-pound whole chickens

3 large onions, unpeeled and quartered

10 large carrots and/or parsnips, unpeeled and chopped in half*

4 stalks celery with leaves, cut in half

1 head garlic, unpeeled & cut in half (to expose all the cloves)

20 sprigs fresh thyme (or 1 Tbsp dried)

15 sprigs fresh parsley (or 1 Tbsp dried)

1 Tbsp dill seeds (or 20 sprigs fresh dill)

2 tsp whole peppercorns

2 Tbsp kosher salt

7 quarts water

Place all vegetables, herbs, and seasonings in pot, then place chickens, including giblets, if any, on top. Fill with water. Bring to a hesitant (not rolling!) boil, and cook for 1 hour. Remove chickens from pot, and cut away the breast meat, which should be fully cooked (let cook longer if birds are frozen.) At this point I break a few bones with a knife or kitchen shears to let the marrow circulate in the broth. Return carcass and all non-breast meat to the pot and cook three more hours, uncovered. Remove chicken carcasses, let cool, and harvest the meat—it'll make amazing chicken noodle soup. Let broth cool, then strain through a fine sieve into storage containers. If you're going to freeze it, I would put it in the refrigerator first so you can skim the solidified fat before freezing.

*I generally use only carrots, but today I'm trying parsnips. I plan for it to be incredible.

Rich, Elegant, Delicious Chicken Stock

(scaled down for 1 chicken)

1 5-pound whole chicken

1 large onions, unpeeled and quartered

4 large carrots and/or parsnips, unpeeled and chopped in half*

2 stalks celery with leaves, cut in half

4-6 cloves garlic, unpeeled & cut in half

7 sprigs fresh thyme (or 1 tsp dried)

5 sprigs fresh parsley (or 1 tsp dried)

1 tsp dill seeds (or 7 sprigs fresh dill)

1 tsp whole peppercorns

2 tsp kosher salt

2.5 quarts water

Leftover Mulligatawny

Now, I only call this leftover because it's the perfect way to use both leftover turkey and the stock you make from its poor carcass. If you'd like to make it without first roasting a hunk of poultry and boiling it down, be my guest, but I take no responsibility for the lack of sensational flavour or complete void where you expected to enjoy a smooth, gelatinous, luxurious mouthfeel. Mine was particularly rich because I made my stock in a slightly too small pan that yielded some of the most concentrated, richest, thick a Jell-O jigglers poultry stock I've ever seen. Win, win, win. All that said, it would still be amazing with boxed stock and quick cooked chicken breasts. It's also quick to assemble—perhaps that's the final win.

Leftover Turkey Mulligatawny

adapted from Ree Drummond (click over for a non-leftovers version)

2 Tbsp butter

1 medium onion, diced

3 cloves garlic, chopped

1/4 cup flour

1 1/2 Tbsp curry (less if you're not a curry fiend like me)

1 quart (32 oz) homemade turkey stock

1 apple, peeled and diced

1/2 roasted turkey breast, diced or shredded, about 2 cups*

2 cups [fat free] half n' half**

2 tsp salt, more to taste

freshly ground black pepper, to taste

Melt butter over medium heat and onions and garlic. Cook until onions just start to brown. Add flour and curry powder, and cook 2-3 minutes, stirring. Add stock all at once and stir. Increase heat to medium high and bring to a boil. Cook a couple of minutes to let the soup thicken a bit, then add apples and diced turkey. Cook 10 minutes, or until apples soften, stirring often. Reduce heat and add half & half, salt and pepper. Heat gently, taking care not to boil. Boiling's not a tragedy, but it will leave a grainy look. Adjust seasoning and serve.

*You could use any leftover meat you have; thighs pair particularly well with curry.

**I used fat free half & half, which is thickened with sugar syrups. If you use cream or regular half & half, add 1 Tbsp white or brown sugar to sweeten things a bit; it plays beautifully off the curry's spices.

Creamy Tomato Soup with Tarragon

Let me be clear: the tarragon is the key to the success of this luscious winter concoction. Normally I reserve tomato dishes for summer when tomatoes are, well, good. But this defies logic, involves a can opener, and warms even the frostiest winter heart. You could, of course, use a different herb like boring basil, but the tarragon is fresh, fruity, and surprising. Give it a try.

Chunky/Creamy Tomato Soup with Tarragon

2 Tbsp butter

2 Tbsp olive oil

1/2 onion, diced

2 cloves garlic, minced

2 carrots, diced

2 stalks celery, diced

1 Tbsp+1 tsp dried tarragon

1/3 cup flour

1 quart chicken stock or broth

1-14.5 oz can crushed tomatoes

1-14.5 oz can diced tomatoes

3 oz. orzo or other very small pasta

1/2 cup heavy cream or half & half (what I used)

salt & pepper to taste

In a large pot, heat butter and olive oil until butter is melted and starts to froth. Add onions and garlic and sauté while you chop up the carrots and celery. I suggest a small dice on these so they are more uniformly bite size. Add carrots and celery to pot along with 1 tsp of tarragon and 1/4 tsp salt. Continue to cook until onions are soft. Add flour and mix well, then cook for 1-2 minutes. Add broth all at once, stirring well to dissolve the flour. Add both cans of tomatoes and 1Tbsp tarragon and bring to a boil. Boil for a couple minutes to allow it to thicken slightly, then add orzo. Cook until pasta is soft, 6-10 minutes, then add cream or half & half and adjust seasoning. You may need more tarragon—I eyeballed and tasted, so my measurements are approximate. Serve with Challah or other crusty bread of your choice.

It's practically a dump & go soup with a little light chopping at the beginning and stirring to keep the pasta from gluing itself to the bottom of the pot. Oh, and it is delicious.

Shrimp Bisque

Sometimes, when I'm home alone, I make fancy dishes that are totally reasonable to make for one, but outrageously expensive and over the top experimental for a family of five. Most of these experimental dishes involve seafood because, well, while my life's love will eat whatever I fix, I try to avoid seafood because I'm a nice guy and want her to be happy. So, tonight was Shrimp Bisque, based ever so loosely (and I mean loosely—I didn't like Rombauer's version at all and I had to fix it in a big way) the recipe in The Joy of Cooking. It's amazing my way, although it might be just a touch on the chowder side.

Shrimp Bisque

loosely adapted from The Joy of Cooking

serves 4

1 1/2 pounds of cooked shrimp

6 Tbs butter

2 Tbsp shredded onion

2 Tbsp flour

3 cups warm milk

1 cup heavy cream

1/4 tsp white pepper

1/2 tsp salt

1/4 tsp paprika

Melt butter over medium low heat in a large saucepan; add onions and cook 5 minutes. In the meantime, put shrimp and 1 cup of milk in the blender and pulverize those babies. I suppose you could leave them a little chunky, but I, personally, did not love the larger pieces. When onion is cooked, add flour and stir to combine. Add all milk and shrimp, and stir to heat, bringing just to the boiling point to thicken. Add cream and seasoning to taste, being careful not to boil it. Serve garnished with chopped scallions or parsley.

To add a pastry lid, a la family reunion 09, preheat oven to 425˚ and roll pie crust to 1/8" thick. Cut circles approximately 1" larger than your bowls. Spoon each serving into an overproof bowl set on a cookie sheet. Brush the bowl rims with water, and place a circle of pastry loosely over each one, sealing the edges by pressing down. If you don't seal the edges, it won't puff. Beat together 1 egg and 1 tsp water, and brush the top of the pastry with it. Sprinkle with sea salt and pepper, and bake for 10 minutes, or until nicely browned. I forgot to glaze mine, so it was rather dull looking, but still tasted excellent. Serve on a plate, because those bowl are now steamy hot!