Jenmenke

Road Warrior

Archives for January 2010

The Lazy Way to Homemade Chicken Stock

This is just a quick post for my eye-rolling friends and relatives in retort to all their snide comments about the fact that I use homemade stock for most of my soups.

If you haven’t been following along, I will repeat what is, by now, obvious: I delight in making food from garbage. Chicken bones from a roast chicken are — to my mind — garbage.

I do not buy new chicken to make stock. That seems almost insane. That you would make stock from a fresh chicken and discard or overcook the chicken in the name of stock… Insane.

So, it goes without saying that I am not a stock purist. Am not. If you are, please move away from the computer now, as you will be horrified by both my materials and technique.

This is akin to my approach to composting. No effort with satisfactory results. Not clear consume. But good, bold flavor.

All you need is freezer space.

Here’s what you do:

Every time you eat a roast chicken — or any chicken with bones — you save the bones, the meat clinging to the bones, and any skin you might have and store it in a freezer bag in the freezer (also throw in any from the plate of a stubborn child). When the bag is full, and you have no more room, you make stock. I use big 2 1/2 gallon freezer bags to store. Then I make the broth in one of those big steamer/roaster ovens. Mine is Hamilton Beach I think. (The same thing I use for my pulled pork.)

Anyway. The bonus in using that apparatus, aside from the size and the ability to cook lots of chicken bone garbage, is the fact that you can cook it outside.

I love the aroma of chicken broth simmering — for about 2 hours. After that it starts to make me sick. Too much for too long. But maybe that’s just me?

So anyway, I put the roaster outside and cook away! For hours! I cook it low and slow. I don’t worry about it boiling and clouding… I check the water level every now and then, push things around with some tongs. And really, it turns out just fine. You should try it.

Add bones to the pot.

Add a couple bay leaves, salt and pepper and whatever questionable vegetables you have laying around in your crisper drawer. Ideally carrot, celery and onion.

Cover bones with cold, fresh water. Cover and turn roaster to 300 until it boils then turn it down to the temperature that keeps it at a nice simmer — which for me varies, depending on whether it is -15 below (like it was on this day) or 70 degrees outside. Alternately, bring to boil on stove, then turn down to a simmer, cover and cook until it tastes good.

Cool broth and strain the solids. I like to let the broth cool to scrape off the fat easily.

Then, measure the amount you want to freeze (I do 3-4 cups in quart sized bags or 6-8 cups in a gallon bags) into ziplock bags and freeze flat.

Fresh homemade stock from something that you would normally throw away! So easy!

$20 Kitchen Makeover

(And a lesson on oiling new, cheap cutting boards)

I’m not complaining. I have a great kitchen, and I love it. But there is always room for improvement.

For example. My desire was to have countertops with wood or butcherblock. However, my germ-o-phobe husband could think of absolutely nothing worse. His skin crawled at the very idea. It was non-negotiable. So we compromised with shiny, black, impossible-to-look-perfect-granite. Hard, cold, everything-breaks-granite. (But beautiful when clean and streak free.)

I’d bought a few cutting boards over the years with the idea of leaving them permanently on the counter, but it never really worked the way I thought it would. However, a few months ago, on my first real outing to Ikea, next to the Mall of America (inward shudder), I found a cutting board that hooked over the edge of the counter. And the best part? It was only $9.99! I had seen this style of cutting board elsewhere for around $100! $9.99?

Even if it was a piece of crap, I’d at least see if it worked the way I wanted it to and consider making a larger investment on a better one if it fell apart, right?

So I bought it, and put it in place. I did give it a quick and brief coverage with oil over the next couple weeks, because the enclosed insert said to, but I didn’t pay too much attention because nothing really bad ever happened to any other cutting board I owned from lack of oil.

But here’s the thing: all cutting boards need oil to keep them from absorbing moisture, odors, etc. Moisture is the biggest problem because it causes them to warp or crack — both of which seemed to be happening to my new, awesomely inexpensive cutting board. Such a bummer!

I probably have never had problems with other cutting boards for a couple reasons. I suspect the more expensive ones come pre-oiled to some extent. Also, the sides of the Ikea boards are thick, open grained, unfinished wood which are veritable sponges for any moisture. I’ve noticed other cutting boards have a type of boarder of finished wood around them — probably to prevent warping. All I know for sure is that the Ikea one was warping and — very slightly — starting to crack within a week of purchase. I also found that I did, indeed, love the cutting board. I loved it so much that I bought a brand new one to flank the other side of the stove on my very next trip to Ikea months later.

I can’t believe how great it is…

Because now, it’s almost as if I have a butcher block island!

And Dave is totally OK with it because it isn’t permanent!

This time though, I decided to do some research on oils and preservation techniques. It seems that there is a lot of controversy over what type of oil to use. (Small wonder). I happened to use some ancient Lemon Oil I found in my broom closet, circa… I have no idea. I’m going to guess circa 1980, but that’s a total guess. It could be older. Anyway, I couldn’t find any negative info on lemon oil — which is good, because I already used it — but do your own research, as I refuse to become an expert on the subject. Here is a really informative post on the subject.

So basically, you add oil on a regular basis until the board stops absorbing it.

My question is: What if it never stops absorbing it?

Seriously. This Ikea board has absorbed over 12 ounces of lemon oil and shows no signs of ceasing. I should note that I have also been oiling the older board, and while it hasn’t absorbed as much, it is still drinking it up. Interestingly, there are certain individual boards that soak it up much faster than others, as shown here:

These photos show me oiling the ends of the board, as that seems to be the area that it absorbs the most moisture. My first board began to warp shortly after I began using it. I would flip it over and pour water on the underside to counteract the warp (Brilliant, no? No. Not brilliant). It worked, but I’ve been doing this dance since the first week, no doubt making the problem ten times worse. Since I began the oil diet however, the warping has slowly begun to go away on its own. I predict that the massive amount of oil is going to both stop the small crack AND stop the warping.

Anyway, I think I have gotten away from the main idea of this writing, and that is: I feel like I have a whole new kitchen! I love how it looks, the functionality, all of it. I know there are people who turn their noses up at Ikea but you gotta admit, they’ve got some great stuff.

I got a whole new kitchen! For twenty bucks!

Well, and the cost of a bottle of antique lemon oil.

Meatless Monday One

I already regret my New Year’s Resolution.

I lost track of time, like always.

Every January I am struck by a strange and unstoppable compulsion to clean, organize and declutter every closet, shelf, cabinet and drawer. It doesn’t matter what my calendar says or what other promises I have made for the day. I suddenly and inexplicably find myself with a rag in one hand cleaning the outer corners of a pantry that hasn’t seen a mop or a vacuum in at least two years.

That was a few days ago. Monday, it was the two junk drawers in the kitchen and the book shelves in the living room. It took all day. I don’t know why it took all day, but it did. And I was exhausted by the end of it. My donation pile grew and my satisfaction along with it. Until… I realized… oh shit. MEATLESS MONDAY!

And by now, of course, you all know that a quick run to the grocery store was not an option for me.

What to do, what to do.

I run by the Tasty Kitchen in a frenzy. My scattered brain and frantic fingers can hardly concentrate. Morgan wanted butternut squash pasta or ravioli. No time for that. Besides, no butternut! (hear that Michelle? NO BUTTERNUT!) What do I have… what can I make….

Perhaps because the idea of Morgan’s butternut pasta was somehow lodged in my psyche… I don’t know. I don’t know what possessed me to consider the roasted carrots in the freezer from the fall of 2008. Who knows how my brain works.

But defrost the carrots I did.

And it was all downhill from there.

Oh, I gave it a nobel effort. But from that very first decision, I was lost.

So, yes. I promised to write about each meal. But you won’t be needing this recipe. So I’ll save you all the lovely photos of the process.

Except maybe this one:

mmm. I bet that makes your mouth water, doesn’t it?

Maybe the same feeling you get right before you throw up.

Here’s another detail about the night’s festivities: I must have been asked six times, between the hours of 5 and 7, what I was making. Dave even called from the car out of curiosity.

What could I say?

Baked Wheat Pasta with Pureed Carrot Sauce? Are you kidding me?

With ginger, garlic, wine, half and half, orange juice, thyme, sage, pine nuts and ricotta? Because I just kept adding ingredients with the hope that it would begin to taste like something other than year-old roasted carrots from the freezer?

What would you have said?

So I lied.

(Don’t worry. They don’t read this so they’ll never know. I told them it was indeed butternut squash.)

And they believed me!

And they ate it!

It wasn’t as bad as I thought it was. Except for the fact that we all had to add about a cup of liquid to our plates in order to make it edible. I added half and half. I mean it’s Meatless Monday, not Fatfree Friday.

But I still think bacon bits would have improved it.

Meatless Mondays!

Come along on the ride, or join the movement with us*

*The Menke family is embarking on their 2nd annual New Year’s resolution lead fearlessly by the mother ship.

(I can’t say they are any happier about this resolution than they were about the last.)

See, I am a woman of the obtainable resolution. I am serious about resolutions. I don’t necessarily make one every year, but if I do make one, I aim to I keep it. For that reason, I never make a resolution about weight or working out. It’s such a cliché, it’s hard, and as soon as I go on record with anything diet or excersice related I begin to obsess. We can’t have that. But the bottom line is, it is really, really hard — though probably not any harder than the year I made a resolution to improve my posture….

That was a bad resolution.

I did work on my posture and I continue to work on my posture. And I will always and forever be working on my horrible posture. Bad resolution.

So anyway.

I always ask my family what their resolution is going to be. And every year it’s the same thing. They don’t have one. They don’t want one. They like their life the way it is. They see no point to self improvement.

So I make suggestions. Why don’t you try to __(fill in the blank)_.

Still no takers. (And I come up with some pretty good ones.)

So I make stronger suggestions mixed with threats and guilt, as only I can do. (I was going to say “as only a mother can do,” but I actually feel that I possess a special gift for this negotiation technique.)

Anyway, last year I had a brilliant idea. Instead of making my own resolution, I would make a family resolution. I would decide something that I wanted to achieve and then call it a family resolution and drag them all down the rabbit hole with me.

In order to make my plan work, I would need to choose the resolution wisely. It would need to be something that — if resisted — I could twist into something truly ugly.  And so it was:

The Spontaneous Dinner Prayer vs The Rote Dinner Prayer

You see, we defected from the local Catholic church a few years ago and began attending an Evangelical Free Church. Marvelous, marvelous place. Truly. However, with all of us Catholics and our rote prayer upbringing, we were serious fish out of water when it came to what I call the “spontaneous prayer.”

I like to think I’m a brave person and not easily embarrassed. But ask me to pray in front of someone or lead a prayer? I can’t think of anything worse. I’m not kidding.

Plus, our dinner meal always started off with the most pathetic attempt at prayer. Everyone mumbling “Bless us the Lord and these Thy gifts…” as fast as possible. I was quite certain that the kids didn’t even really know what they were saying.

I tried to slow things down. Emphasize words. But I was just that person not keeping pace with the rest.

The Spontaneous Prayer resolution would be multi-layered:

  1. It would force my family to join in the fun by making a resolution that I could enforce
  2. It would improve the dinner prayer by making everyone think about what they wanted to say
  3. It would improve our standing in the eyes of God (*hopefully)
  4. It would let me practice my insane fear of praying in front of people on my family with the idea that it would get easier when I needed to do it in front of others (*it did not)
  5. It would increase my diabolical control over my family

All things considered, Family Resolution 2009 was a smashing success. There is no reason to believe 2010 won’t bring the same success.

I came up with Meatless Mondays after reading and listening to several sources talk about the complexities of calculating our “carbon footprint” and why eating local isn’t the end-all solution.

We do fairly well on the whole localvore thing, so I was dismayed to learn (or be brainwashed into believing, as some would say) that US meat production is ridiculously bad for the earth. However, let me be clear on one thing: We Love Meat.

I do fantasize the notion of going vegetarian, but like making a resolution about exercising, I am a realist. And here’s one fact that can not be denied: there is no vegetarian dish that can’t be made 100% better with the addition of crumbled bacon. Period. How can I walk away from crumbled bacon for the rest of my life? And don’t get me started on vegan and the loss of blue cheese…

Vegetarianism is simply not an option for me at this point in my life. However — and this is for you  GARY FRANCIONE WHOEVER YOU ARE — if our family eats meatless even one day a week it will make a bigger difference than if we drove a hybrid car instead of our gas-guzzling SUV’s. Isn’t that better than nothing?

So all you vegans and vegetarians, please don’t turn your noses up. You could even encourage meat lovers like me to take baby steps in a noble new direction. Or you could simply worship and admire me. That would be even better.

Tomorrow: Our first Meatless Monday Meal: Disaster. What was I even thinking when I pureed year old carrots from the freezer?